DESCRIPTION: She’s all Steven can think about in between the missing days and the American man inside his head. When Harrow’s jackals leaves Marc with a difficult choice, his hectic life is spun out of control as Seth, God of Violence and Chaos, comes to reap his reward in the form of a woman from Soho with a dark past and a crush on Steven Grant. (Lightly inspired by Last Night in Soho dir. Edgar Wright)
TRIGGER WARNINGS: (specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter) 18+ DARK PAST. Sex trafficking/prostitution. Grooming. Explicit. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. Abuse ex-boyfriend/lover, death, murder, gore, drug use. Any smut written will be consensual sex only, but there will be some implication to dubcon content. PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. AGAIN MINORS DNI.
STEVEN GRANT & MARC SPECTOR X (EVENTUAL) AVATAR!READER. Friends to lovers trope (Steven Grant) Sunshine x Grumpy trope (Marc Spector), Light smut, explicit language, no use of Y/N, goes by nickname Dove. I ADORE LAYLA EL-FAOULY so she is still in the narrative but as Dove’s reluctant friend. Female!reader. AFAB!reader. I am English and do not have DID but have tried my best to do all the research I could on the themes I talk about (Ancient Egyptian culture/history/language. Experiencing DID etc) but if I am misinformed and offend anyone, know I am truly sorry and am more than happy to hear anyone’s corrections in my inbox and will do my best to fix it!
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CHAPTER ONE - Steven finds his life slowly turning upside down when the man in the mirror starts talking back, he's sleepwalking all the way to the Alps, and the woman he's besotted with from work finds herself more caught up in all of it than he'd ever wanted.
CHAPTER TWO - She wakes up with a killer headache and a million questions when she realises two things: 1. the man in her room is not infact Steven Grant and 2. her body no longer belongs to her but to the God of Death.
CHAPTER THREE - With Marc and Steven captured by Harrow's men, Layla has no choice but to work with her ex-husbands mistress to get them and the scarab to safety. But things take a turn when Seth comes to reap his reward.
CHAPTER FOUR - Dove wakes up in Steven’s apartment for the second time covered in blood with only one thing on her mind. What the hell happened last night?
CHAPTER FIVE - Marc and Dove adjust to their new mission: catch Harrow before he can release Ammit and for the love of gods don’t let Seth have the body again.
CHAPTER SIX -
CHAPTER SEVEN -
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Warnings: Smut 18+, dub-con, virginity loss/cherry popping, creampie/no protection used (whoops), manipulation, blood, bleeding during sex, angst, bondage, best friends older brother type trope, a bit of pseudo-incest (yeah, I truly cannot help myself), biting, clothed sex (on bro's part).
Word count: 5.3k
Summary: You fulfill Josh's last request...
Notes: Another fic that's been sitting in the drafts for like almost two years lol. I hope some of you guys are until dawn fans and are able to get some enjoyment from this fic. I remember this was one of the first games I ever watched a playthrough when I was like 10/11-ish, having a crush on this dude is prolly why I'm such a little weirdo now (I mean I had a crush on all the main cast including the therapist so idk). Anyways like I said hope you guys enjoy and yall can let me know if you all want some more fics based on some more story-based games or something. (P.S. Sorry if the reader is coming off as a "look at me, this isn't you" girl, I wanted to make the reader a little more desperate and pathetic for once lmao. Loser virgin girls I <3 you, there need to be more media where the protagonist is a loser virgin and I'm starting ten-toes down here)
“Can I just talk to him? It would just be for a few seconds, I swear— Please, Mike, I need to do this.” You beg, hands wrapped around your frozen figure as the frigid temperatures wash over you.
You had slipped away from the others at the cabin and snuck down to the shed where they were keeping Josh, you had to talk to him. There had to be some sense in what he was doing— you need to know why.
Why…
“I’m not sure that’s a good Idea. He’s lost it, he’s fucking insane. I don’t think you’re gonna get anything out of him.” Mike holds steadfast.
He knows the person in the shed isn’t the friend you all once knew, it was the psycho that tortured them all and killed Jess. He also knows no good can come from letting you talk to him, he’d probably just ramble on about God knows what.
“I know, I just… I just need to try. Please just give me ten minutes to try to talk to him and then, I swear, I’ll go back to the cabin.” You plead once more.
You and Josh had been there for each other ever since his sisters went missing. Hannah was your best friend so your whole world was shattered by her and Beth’s disappearance. You had bonded with Josh over the shared loss, it was clear to the rest of the group that, besides Sam and Chris, you were the closest to him— Mike can understand why you’re so insistent on speaking with him, even if right now he wasn’t the Josh you were close to.
“Fuck- Fine. Ten minutes, that’s it. Don’t listen to anything he says, he’s off his meds and dude’s lost it.” Mike concedes, stepping aside from the door and letting you pass.
“Thank you, Mike— I’ll try to be quick.” You mutter, walking past him and bringing a trembling hand to push at the shack’s large wooden door.
You hadn’t spoken to Josh since he unmasked himself, revealing that he had orchestrated this whole weekend to punish all of you for the prank that resulted in Hannah’s disappearance. You had been woken up by Mike while you laid, tied up on the floor, next to Sam. The last thing you remembered before coming to was hyperventilating over what happened at the séance you had taken part in with Ashley, Chris, and Josh.
Before discovering that it was all just another part of Josh’s elaborate plan, things had gotten out of hand— You thought Ashley had actually contacted the spirit of Hannah, your missing best friend you had, however naively, thought could still be alive. It was all too much for you and you ended up having a panic attack. Then you remembered that after all that commotion Josh had given you some sleeping pills to calm you down. After that everything had gone dark and next thing you knew, you were waking up to the news that Jess was dead, and some crazed lunatic was culpable only later to find out that crazed lunatic was Josh.
You didn’t know what to think, you still don’t— The Josh you knew wouldn’t be capable of killing anyone, but you also thought he wouldn’t have been capable of doing all the other fucked up things he admitted to…
Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do.
You muster up the courage to push the door open and go inside, shutting the door behind you with a heavy thud and slowly turning to face him.
“Well, well, well, sneaking up the trail to visit little old me while I’m all locked up, I hope it’s a conjugal visit.” Josh taunts, looking up at you from where he’s tied up to one of the sheds wooden posts.
“Josh, please… talk to me, I don’t understand. You said you were doing better, you said you were getting help- Why? Why’d you do this?” You ask, keeping your distance from him. Even though he was restrained you didn’t feel safe being alone with him, this didn’t feel like your best friend’s goofy older brother Josh, the person Infront of you felt like a stranger. You’re starting to think coming to see him was a horrible idea.
“Why, why, why, why, why— she wants to know why! You know why. Hannah and Beth, ring a bell? Or have you forgotten them too?” Josh sneers at you.
“Josh, you know I haven’t. I think about Hannah every minute of every day!” You shout, your voice breaking into a cry. “You know how much I regret getting that drunk and not being there for her that night and I know you feel guilty too but, Josh… Mike said you killed Jess. I just-I need to know, did you?”
“Does it matter? The police will come in the morning, and you’ll all point your fingers, Right there officer! He’s the murderer! He’s crazy! And off I go to the loony bin.” Josh mocks.
“Of course it matters, Josh! We care about you, I care about you. I can’t believe you would kill Jess, I don’t believe it… Please just tell me the truth. I’ll believe whatever you tell me, just please- I need to know.” You beg, stepping closer to him.
“I-I don’t know.” Josh answers, his head dropping between his shoulders as he averts his gaze from you.
“Josh, what do you mean you don’t know?” You press further, your face twisting in concern. How could he not know you ask yourself, of all the responses you could have anticipated this was the one you were the least prepared for.
“I don’t know! I don’t think I did, I would probably remember if I did, right? Fuck, I’m losing it. I wouldn’t kill her- I didn’t kill her, you believe me, right? I’m not crazy.” Josh asks, his voice shaky.
You rush over to his side, bending down to his level and caressing his face with your cold yet comforting hands,
“Josh it’s okay, I believe you- I believe you Joshie, you’re not crazy. This whole night was just some big mistake, I know that and the others… They’ll realize it too soon enough.” You try to console him, wrapping your arms around him in the best embrace you can manage given his current bondage.
“I knew you would believe me— you’ve always been there for me, you know me… but the others, they won’t believe me. They’re gonna tell the cops I did it, then they’re gonna take me away. I need you to do something, one last thing for me before they come.” Josh mutters leaning forward and resting his head against the crook of your neck.
“Sure, Josh, I’ll do anything.” You breathe, attentively awaiting his request with wide eyes as you hold him in your arms.
“Show me your tits.” Josh whispers against your ear, his teeth brushing against your skin as his lips spread in a wide grin.
“What?” You exclaim, scrambling to break away from him and falling onto the floor behind you in the process.
“You heard me, show me your tits— You said anything, right?” Josh coos, smiling down smugly at you.
“Josh, I can’t- I don’t- Why would you ask me that?” You stutter, your cheeks growing red.
His emotional whiplash has you off kilter, of all the years you had known Josh, you would’ve never expected him to say something like that to you. You always assumed he just saw you as an extension of his sister, no matter how hard you tried to get him to see you otherwise… Sometimes he would even call you his little sister, tell you to call him big bro.
“Come on— this is probably my last chance before they take me away, lock me up, and throw away the key. We’re family, aren’t we? So, just do your big bro Josh a favor and show me your tits.” He smirks, a playful glint in his eyes.
You felt like you were pinned to the spot your knees met the hard concrete floor. There was a version of you who would’ve done anything if Josh told you to, you were sweet on him ever since you first met him through Hannah back in grade school. You’d felt like such a cliché, having a crush on your best friend’s older brother. Back then all you wanted was for him to notice you— But ever since Hannah disappeared, all you’re left feeling are the sharp pains of guilt gnawing at your insides. Guilt for wandering off that night to get drunk with her brother and his friend, guilt for getting so wasted to impress him that you passed out, guilt for not being there to stop her from meeting Mike, or keeping her from storming out into the cold, or warning her about the prank, or anything…
Anything at all.
Sometimes you think everything that’s happened since that night has been your fault… Maybe, if you had just stayed with her that night none of this would have happened. The more you think about it the more you start to convince yourself that this really is all your fault— You’re the reason Hannah and Beth are gone, you’re the reason Jess is dead, you’re the one that fucked everything up, Josh was here because of you and your stupid crush…
“…Okay.” The word hesitantly slips past your lips, barely above a whisper.
An amused expression crosses Josh’s face, his eyes trace over your kneeled figure curiously— He wonders just how far he can push you… Would you truly listen to anything he has to say, do anything?
He’s eager to find out.
“I’m sorry, what was that? Could you say that louder, please?” Josh teases, turning his ear to face you and leaning as close to you as his restraints allow.
You push yourself from the ground and back up on your unsteady feet. You turn your back towards him as you let your coat slide off your shoulders. You dip your nervous fingers beneath the back of your sweater, trailing them up to your bra and releasing the clasp of it. As soon as the flimsy fabric comes undone you hurry to maneuver it off your body before your paper-thin courage wears off. You manage to slip your bra off from under your sweater without removing it, placing your undergarment gently on top of your fallen jacket before turning back around to face Josh as he watches your actions attentively.
You inhale deeply, allowing the icy wind to penetrate its way into your lungs as your shaky hands grip the bottom of your shirt. You meet Josh’s piercing gaze, his expectant eyes trained on you and urging you to hurry. You roll the thick material of your sweater over your breasts, your nipples hardening as the cold air that penetrates the weathered walls of the shed washes over the sensitive flesh. Josh’s eyes greedily drink up the sight, shamelessly ogling your bare chest.
“So that’s what you’ve been hiding under that sweater, huh? Porn star tits.” Josh smirks up at you.
Despite the cold, you can feel the heat rising into your cheeks at his comment. You avert your eyes from him, looking anywhere but his face. You’ve never felt more vulnerable than you do right now— Your naked breasts completely open to his scrutiny, his eyes free to poke and prod at every inch of your newly exposed skin.
“Why don’t you get closer? Let me see them up close.” Josh urges you.
You look back at him— He looks pleadingly up at you, like a starved dog begging for food. You sigh, hesitantly taking a small step forward.
“Come on, get over here, I don’t bite.” Josh smiles, his teeth glinting in the dim light of the shed as he tilts his head and gestures you closer.
You take a few more cautious steps towards Josh, pausing a few inches from him. Your legs feel like jelly, you never expected that the first guy to see you topless would be Josh— Especially tonight, after all the shit that happened.
You feel like you could wake up in a cold sweat at any moment, only to find out this had all been some sort of weird dream. But the gusts of frozen wind biting at your exposed skin lets you know that this is all too real.
“Closer.” Josh instructs, his voice no longer as passive as before.
You let out a small huff, you were embarrassed enough as it was, having your chest out on display like this… Anyone could walk into the unlocked door and see you practically shoving your breasts against Josh’s face. A small part of you wonders if he’s just doing this to humiliate you. But still, you obey his command, walking the rest of the way forward and closing the distance between the two of you— Your legs brushing up against his.
“Yeah, that’s good. Come, come here, sit— Let me look at you.” Josh breaths softly as he juts his hips out slightly, signaling you towards his lap.
Your eyes widen at his request. You’re beginning to wonder if this is going too far, maybe you should just walk away, rationalize that this has all just been a momentary lapse in your judgment, but something buried deep within you doesn’t want this to stop.
You pause for a moment before positioning your legs on either side of Josh’s, reaching your hands out shyly and placing them on his shoulders to steady yourself as you lower yourself onto his lap.
“Shit… look at you.” Josh exhales, his breath warm against your skin as it grows colder under the punishing wind.
His jaw clenches as he resists the urge to sink his teeth into your plush chest, swallowing hard as his hands twist against his restraints. His touch would be all over you if he could move— but, unfortunately for him, he doesn’t think you’re stupid enough to untie him.
He leans forward, resting his head against your soft breasts. The unexpected movement causes you to flinch as you instinctively go to reach for the back of his head. You hesitate for a moment, still unsure if he would welcome your touch despite your current position before gently running the tips of your fingers against his hair.
“I could die a happy man right now.” Josh chuckles softly, his lips brushing against your skin.
Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, the sound of it filling Josh’s ears and echoing in his head. Josh presses his mouth to your breast, kissing at it. His lips feel like they’re burning into your skin, a soft moan leaving your throat at the sensation. Your hand flies to your mouth, covering it in an attempt to muffle your involuntary sounds. Josh lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling against your skin.
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed— Don’t cover your mouth, I wanna hear you.”
Josh continues placing sloppy kisses on your chest, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. He kisses up to your neck, gently teasing at your skin with his teeth. Your breath hitches, the seat of your panties damp with your arousal— Suddenly your jeans feel too constraining.
What are you doing?
You don’t even have the slightest clue anymore. Right now, your head is only filled with thoughts of Josh, and the feel of his mouth against your skin. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, you should be back at the lodge with the rest of the group.
“Josh…” you interject quietly.
If he can hear you, he makes no indication. His sole attention remains on the feel of your flesh against his teeth. Josh lets out a groan into the crevice of your neck, your scent overwhelming his senses. His tongue traces over the soft skin of the column of your neck, scraping the edges of his teeth harshly against it.
You let out a shaky gasp at the sensation— It was all starting to be too much.
“Josh, wait…”
But once again your plea falls on deaf ears. His kisses get more abrasive, his mouth harsh against your chilled skin. Josh’s lips trail anywhere they can reach, sucking at your satiny skin and leaving small, red bruises which mark his erratic path. You were intoxicating to him, your taste, the sound of your squeaky whines and heavy breathing, the way you were squirming against him, you were consuming his every thought… Despite his position, his fractured mind can only think of you— He wants to take you, needs to take you, make you his, and mark you as his own…
He can no longer restrain his urge— He sinks his teeth into your tender flesh, your blood pooling in his mouth as his canines draw blood.
“Josh, stop, please!” You hiss as you tear yourself from his grasp, your eyes wild with shock as the realization that he just bit you settles in.
Pain throbs in your neck as arousal drips from your aching cunt— Blood pearls at the shallow wounds, falling in warm, viscous drops against your spit-slicked skin.
“We should stop… You’ve had enough haven’t you, Joshie?” Your voice trembles despite your best attempts to sound stern.
“No way, baby. Now that you’ve given me a taste, I want all of you. Come on, I mean you’ve always liked me anyway.” Josh smirks, glassy eyes fixed on your face as it twists into a horrified expression.
He knows…
“W-What?”
“You seriously thought I couldn’t tell? All those longing looks, all those sleepovers with Hannah you spent talking to me instead, all those times you snuck into my room while you thought I was downstairs and fucked your fingers into that tight little pussy on my bed… I saw all of it, I mean It’s so fucking obvious— everyone can tell.” Josh’s voice is condescendingly sweet as his cruel words tear into you like a serrated knife into flesh.
Tears prick at your eyes as your face grows unbearably hot, your humiliation on bright-red display. This whole time he knew, so did everyone else apparently… God, they must think you’re pathetic. You’ve never felt more ashamed in your entire life, were Josh to finish what he started and rip your throat out with his teeth, it would be a mercy compared to the horrible sinking feeling in your chest.
“Awe, don’t cry, sissy… Don’t you see it? Now’s your chance to get what you’ve always wanted. I’m all tied up, I couldn’t stop you if I tried, so why don’t you just hold me down and fuck me.”
“I can’t!This is all just too much and Mike’s right outside the door- plus, I’ve never even…”
“You’ve never even what?” He pauses for a moment, taking in the way more blood rushes to the already reddened skin of your cheeks and the way your gaze shifts between different areas of the weathered shed as you desperately attempt to avoid making eye contact with him— That’s when he comes to the realization as to why you’re so nervous.
“Oh my God, don’t tell me you’re a virgin?” He asks giddily, his teeth on full display.
“… Well, yeah— I’ve never, you know… done it with anyone, okay? Now can you please lay off it? I’m humiliated enough as it is.” Shame tugs at every fiber of your being as the words leave your tongue, your treacherous body letting a tear fall from your eye down your burning face.
“This day just keeps getting better and better. Now we have to do it what kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t pop your cherry before they haul me off— Fuuck… I’m so hard right now,” He groans, rutting against you and grinding the prominent bulge in his pants against your clothed heat.
“Mmm… I-ah… I don’t- Josh, this isn’t right!” You try to object but you can’t deny how good his hardness feels as it rubs against your aching cunt, your voice broken and desperate as you whine into his touch.
“Come on stop being such a little tease, you got me all hot and bothered putting your smoking hot tits in my face and with your little virgin act... Plus you owe me for not snitching on you rubbing one out on my bedsheets, finish what you started you fucking pervert-slut.” He moves his hips quicker against you, frantically searching for release as his cock strains against the crotch of his overalls.
Your mouth hangs open, panting like a bitch in heat as the seam of your jeans catches on your clit over the damp fabric of your underwear— Your thoughts become hazy with desire, all reason going out the window as both your body and mind start to give into him.
Logic be damned, you want him.
Need him.
“Fuck, fine… I’m sorry, just- just tell me what to do” You mutter, finally allowing yourself to give in to your own perverse desires.
Josh’s mouth curves into a wider smirk, his lips stretched wide over his teeth, amused by your lack of resistance.
“Relax, baby— I’ll make it real good for you, I promise. Take your pants off and then you can help me with mine.” The words drip sweet off his tongue like honey as he tells you what to do, his voice significantly softer than it was just moments ago, almost patronizingly so.
You lift yourself from his lap, removing your hands from him as you begin to fumble with the button of your jeans. You undo the fastening, pulling down the zipper before you begin tugging down the cold denim down your legs.
“Slower.” Josh heaves, breathless as his cock twitches at the sliver of skin peeking out from your unbuttoned pants.
You eye him over your furrowed brow, annoyed with his ceaseless demands despite your eagerness to feed the throbbing ache between your thighs. You bite the inside of your cheek, obliging him and hooking your fingers under the waistband of your jeans along with your soaked panties— You peel the tight fabric down gingerly, unveiling the smooth skin of your thighs inch by inch tantalizingly slow. Denim pools around your ankles as you finish rolling your pants down, kicking them to the side and timidly clasping your hands over your now bare mound— The burning in your face spreading to the tips of your ears as your bottom half lays bare before his starved gaze.
“Show me your ass.”
You hesitate for a moment before shyly turning your back to him, letting him drink in the swell of your ass. You cross your arms over your chest as a chill runs through your mostly bare body, you yearn for the warmth of Josh’s body.
“Bend over.” Josh instructs, licking his lips in anticipation like a wolf eyeing its injured prey.
“Josh-”
“Bend. Over.” Josh’s voice turns harsh as he cuts you off before you can finish your objection.
You begrudgingly bend over, knowing better than to try and reason with him when he seemed so keen on studying every inch of your flesh.
“Holy fucking shit, your so wet— Is that all from me, baby? Get back here before I blow my load in my boxers, I wanna get inside that perfect little pussy.”
You sigh as he finally allows you to return to his body’s warmth, stepping between his open legs as you bring your eager hands to the straps of his overalls — You unhook them, pulling down the tattered garment just enough so they rest below his ass. You pause for a moment, the only thing keeping your bodies separate now is the thin fabric of his patterned boxers. A wet stain pools at the front of his underwear where his swollen cock begs to be freed. You don’t bother looking to him for permission before you begin to peel the soiled garment down, allowing his flushed length to spring free against his stomach. You catch a quick glimpse of his blushing head before quickly averting your eyes, your heart hammering against your chest so hard you think your ribs might break.
“It’s okay, you can look at it— look at it.” Josh stares at you through half-hooded eyes, his cock twitching desperately against his stomach as if begging your attention.
Your eyes trail down his clothed abdomen all the way down until they reach the swollen flesh between his thighs. His sticky tip gleams in the dim candlelight of the lantern hanging above. Your body is a wreck of nerves and sweat as you bring a hand between the two of you, wrapping your fingers around the intimidating thickness of his length and giving it a hesitant pump— He bucks into your hand with a desperate cry, his precum coating your clammy palm.
You straddle his lap with a deep inhale as you try not to lose the nerve you’ve built up, hovering your hips over his as you drag his leaking head over your slick folds. You guide him towards your entrance, gritting your teeth as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. Pain shoots through your body as you sink down on his cock, your face scrunching up in obvious discomfort as you try to bite back a pained cry. Your body tenses around him, as it tries to adjust to the foreign feeling…
Just then you feel something warm dripping down the inside of your thighs— Looking down where your cunt stretches painfully wide around him, you’re met with red.
Blood pools at the base of his cock.
Your blood.
“Shit- you’re bleeding, that’s so fucking hot I didn’t know virgins actually bled.” Josh chuckles. His hips jolt up into you, spurred on by the sight of your viscous crimson coating his cock.
“Josh, stop- Jesus fuck! It hurts…” You try to hold down his hips with one hand as you cling to his neck for dear life with the other.
You’re beginning to wonder if this is really what you fantasized about all those years. All those times you laid awake at night touching yourself to the thought of Josh taking your virginity, you never imagined it would hurt this much.
“Well duh, it’s supposed to, dummy— It’s your first time. Just move, it’ll get better.” Josh groans through gritted teeth as he keeps trying to fuck up into you despite your hand holding him down.
You take his advice, reluctantly lifting your hips before sinking them back down— You repeat the motion until the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin fills the shed, your pain slowly fading away into reluctant pleasure. Josh’s cock drives into your poor cervix with every wet slam of your hips against his, splitting your once virgin cunt open around him. You roll your hips against his, grinding your clit over the small patch of dark coarse hair peaking out from under his shirt.
Your cunt clenches tightly around him like a vice, making Josh’s head fall back against the wooden post behind him as a strained whimper falls from his lips. His hips buck sloppily into yours, nearing his end embarrassingly fast as your bleeding walls swallow greedily around him. You notice the change in his movements as he trembles beneath you, you know he’s close.
“Josh, should I pull off?” You ask breathlessly as your hips move ceaselessly against his, chasing your own high.
“Don’t you fucking dare… Keep it in, I wanna-mmm… fill you up, you dumb… fucking slut.” Josh pants incoherently as he loses all control of his body, fucking mindlessly into you like your cunt is nothing more than a sex toy for him to fill up.
“Let me cum inside, let me cum inside, let me cum-” He repeats the words like a mantra, before being cut off by the sounds of his own whiny grunts as he comes undone and his warm, sticky come spurts into you.
You ignore the potential consequences of Josh finishing inside of you, instead bringing a hand to your slit and working at your aching clit desperately— Your orgasm comes quick and devastating, racking through your body as a voice you barely recognize as your own bounces off the walls of the dingy shed, most likely alerting all outside to what the two of you are doing…
Well, did.
The crimson of your blood mixes with the sticky white of Josh’s seed as it spills from your weary walls, pooling where the two of you still connect. Josh’s gaze rests between your bodies, eyes fixated on your cunt wrapped around him as it drips with your mixed fluids before they flick up to your face. He bites his lip, looking up at you with blown out pupils and glossy eyes as your chest heaves and your skin glows with the warm hue of the fading lantern above, to him you look almost angelic.
“Kiss me.” Josh says, the words leaving his mouth pleading and soft.
“What?” You pant, bewildered by his request in the midst of your post-orgasmic tremors and sticky skin.
“Kiss me, please.” Josh begs again, his eyes looking up at you with genuine affection for the first time since you came to speak with him.
He’s somehow managed to catch you off guard once again, from the way he was tearing you apart and causing you to hurt, you almost forgot he could be gentle. It’s why you fell for him in the first place, wasn’t it? You were always susceptible to his charms, pliant to his every whim if only he were to look in your direction.
“O-okay…” You agree, eyes wide as you look down at him.
You lean forward, touching his chapped lips to yours and connecting them in the kiss you’ve yearned for since you were a kid. As his mouth moves against yours your heart briefly returns to the state of girlish exuberance you thought had died when you lost your best friend.
The kiss is short and chaste despite your current position.
“Thanks…” Josh says, leaning his damp brow against yours as he releases your lips.
“Yeah… no problem.” You smile breathlessly, allowing your weary body a brief respite before pulling yourself from him.
You grab your panties off the floor before walking back to him, kneeling in front of him and wiping at the mess you left behind before tucking his softening length back in his boxers and helping him back into his clothes. You take your now thoroughly soiled underwear, slipping it on over your still trembling legs before turning from Josh to collect the rest of your clothes scattered on the ground.
Josh’s eyes follow your every movement, the shame and guilt of what he’s just done dawning on him as he watches you redress.
“Please don’t leave, I’m sorry for… everything. I don’t know why I said all those things, please don’t leave me here alone… You’re the only person who still cares about me.” Josh pleads, his remorseful gaze meeting yours as you turn to face him.
“Josh, it’s fine. I’m not mad at you or anything, I just have to go back before everyone starts wondering where I went… I’ll come back, I promise.” You bend down, your lips brushing softly against his cheek as you press a comforting kiss goodbye to the stubbled skin.
You walk towards the door, plunging yourself into the shocking cold that lays waiting outside it before your resolve gives way and you find yourself unable to leave Josh’s side.
As soon as you step foot outside Mike’s disgruntled face greets you.
You always felt it, being watched—unknowing who was behind the eyes, but always made it a goal to keep out of the limelight. Holding you back in more ways than before. It affects your relationships, already straining a toxic one that eventually ends up burning in flames. But what happens when Josh, the person who helps you—fills the void of neediness inside you is the one causing your torment. Always filming, unbeknownst to you, and the reason you feel a sense of dread every time you’re around cameras.
☆ Word count: 10.6k. ao3
Warnings/Info: Explicit content mentioned, fem!bisexual!reader, no use of (Y/n), reader has anxiety, and is needy (DPD if you squint), reader in established toxic relationship with named character (not a oc/left for interpretation), mentions of drugging (syringe/injection), cheating, slapping, dub-con, sub!reader, dom!josh, voyeurism, bondage, PIV, vaginal fingering, masturbation, obsession/creepy behavior, begging, gagging, mouthfucking, knifeplay, cum eating, hair pulling.
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Paranoid is a good way to describe it. Eyes that comb and watch from a distance, even if they aren’t there. People acting differently, treating each other inconsistently that could slip past the naked eye. Noticing things that were definitely not there before, picking up on it.
This is how you felt, goosebumps flaring and the hairs on your neck standing up every time you feel the chills of eyes grazing you, reading you down to filth.
It was often Josh liked recording people every lodge trip, saying he wanted to capture the moment and save it for later. It did really start off that innocent, you occasionally popping into his videos as he shoved the camera in your face— as he did with everyone else.
But you weren’t a common face, at least, in his old videos.
“Josh get that camera out my face, go film somebody else!” Your voice was laced with annoyance, muffled by the toothbrush now hanging from your mouth as you halted brushing.
You leaned over at the sink, elbows on the granite topped counter until you heard heavy footsteps behind you, and looked up to see Josh behind, of course, recording.
“I already filmed everyone else.” His eyes stared at you through the mirror, piercing into your annoyed expression as the toothbrush hung in your mouth. You decided it wasn’t worth your attention, bending back down to finish up brushing.
You thought Josh would go away, not entertaining him like the rest of the bright and bubbly personalities in the rest of the cabin would with their antics. But he lingered, moving to the side to film you brushing, gagging slightly when you brushed your tongue, swishing the warm water through your mouth and wiping away the residue leftover around your mouth.
But he also filmed your body, the way your back was arched over the sink with your ass in the air. The tight cloth of your pajamas accentuating it even more. And your white tank top, that was now see through due to the water you spilt on yourself.
His gaze was dark—deeper than before. You felt it, the say he moved and tilted his camera in ways that made you feel exposed. A smile present on his face the closer he got, before you shoved him in a jokingly way, Josh smiling the whole way while he walked out the room.
You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you felt it, felt as though you’ve gained a new shadow that followed you everywhere, dark and deceptive in a way that would cloak you, but disappear at the drop of a hat.
You started to appear in his videos more, always an excuse on how the focus would somehow fall back onto you.
“I’ve never filmed you and Ash together, come here.” He'd say, pulling you closer to stand next to her.
“I need more candid pictures, I'm tired of still life.”
“I just…you look good on camera. And no I’m not pitying you!”
You didn't realize it, but Josh didn't film you for no reason, he just tried to paint it as him wanting to get everybody on tape, even if he had to make up excuses to get you to grudgingly do so.
“Hey Sam.” Your voice was quiet. Everyone was floating around socializing, drinking with the music blaring. Then you felt it again, the eyes on you.
“What is it?” She said, perking up, turning towards you.
“Do you ever feel like someone is…watching you?” You paused, chugging the rest of your drink before talking again.
“I feel like I'm going fucking crazy here, like I’m being stalked or something.” Your voice was low, gravely as you continued to talk, ranting to Sam about how you felt.
“I don’t know if I can do this anymore Sam. Every time that damn camera comes out, it always feels like something else is watching me…” You were anxious, on edge enough that your nails started to dig into your skin, empty cup discarded as you clenched your jaw and lifted up your sleeves, feeling everything on you feel like fire on skin. The room felt as if it was closing in on you, and the scratching of your skin, and the grinding of your jaw worsened.
Sam noticed this, and immediately grabbed your hands, bringing you back to reality.
“You should get some sleep, your nerves are working up.” She let go, causing you to rub the scratch marks you left on your arm, hot and already swollen and scarring.
“Yea…I probably should, I didn’t want to miss out on anything. You know I have the worst case of FOMO.” You tried to take your mind off of it, make a joke before you let yourself really spiral.
“We’ll all be here tomorrow.” Sam said, guiding you out of the stuffy room to the dimly lit hallway.
“And besides, isn’t Elijah getting here tomorrow?”
Oh yea, him. You swear you felt yourself age 10 years and back when she mentioned the name. Elijah, your boyfriend who forced himself to go on this trip with you, was late to the bus, leaving you at the bus stop worried out of your mind before you looked at your phone and saw a text from him.
‘Eli ❤︎: Emergency, I'll get to the lodge tomorrow :P’
Fair, emergencies happen. But when you tried calling him and asking what happened, he wouldn't pick up, and every text you sent remained on delivered.
Your nerves were already through the roof this morning when you first got up, worried sick about him. But honestly now, it’d be better if he just stayed at home and let you attempt to have fun for once.
“I really don’t know if Elijah is even coming anymore.” You pulled out your phone, showing Sam his text and the string of texts you sent, all still unread.
“Geez, he could at least reply, he should know how you can get.” Sam, now taking your phone, scrolled up looking at the messages with a displeased expression on her face.
“Yea…But I told myself I wasn’t going to let my own nerves drag me down. It’s probably just a…small emergency, nothing major. Just not major enough to call…or even text back.” You just did it again, spiraling right in front of Sam’s face. She realized this and shut off the phone and shoved it into your hoodie pocket.
“Forget him, if he really needed help he would've gotten it by now. And like you said, stop letting your nerves get to you and have some fun!” Sam punched your arm lightly, making you chuckle as you grabbed the sore spot.
“Yea but I can’t lie, I am kind of tired, I think I'm gonna call it a night.” Rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes, you dramatized the yawn that came out after you said this, loud and your hand swatting over your wide open mouth.
“Alright, I’ll see you later then.” She said, turning away before saying one more thing, cupping her hands around her mouth.
“And don’t just interact with just me and Ash tomorrow, go talk to other people!”
“I do talk to other people, you just don’t see it, I'm verrryyy social!” A partial lie, but not enough to not make Sam scoff before she walked back into the loud room, leaving you to smile and skip down the hallway, all the way to your room.
You talked to Chris, but mostly Josh, granted only a few times, but it was enough he considered you one of the people he talks to most, when he’s not gone somewhere else.
Wait…Where is Josh?
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It was easy for him to slip away, almost everyone ignored his presence once he started a party, and left before it could reach its peak, or really end.
He used to have a good tactic, get the party started, film stuff, and then run upstairs to place his camera down somewhere safe and then return to normal.
His camera this time, as usual gravitated towards you, and he couldn't help himself. Your body flowed, dancing to the music so effortlessly as if nobody were around. Hips swaying, stepping with a drink in your hand, Josh loved it, loved you when you weren't riddled with anxiety and stricken fear, and can act like yourself, especially on video.
This moment was rare, so precious he felt himself getting cocky, moving closer out of the darkness, zooming in onto you, your face before looking through the lens to zoom back out. But when he did so, he noticed you stopped dancing, and was facing his direction—still, as if you were frozen in time.
Direct eye contact, only to be broken when Josh ran away, quickly fleeing the scene out of your line of vision. And that’s when he realized it.
His pants were tight, restricting as he felt the blood rushing and pooling in the lower portion of his body.
Turned on, cock hard as ever all because of you dancing and moving your body. But, this wouldn't be his first time this happened.
You knew Josh, but not enough to be a part of his videos often enough, and mixed with your nerves, and awkwardness it made it nearly impossible to act normal in videos when asked, it was only inevitable you’d rarely be featured.
But Josh found a way, he always does.
He tried to start off innocent a few months ago when he filmed you brushing your teeth, catching you off guard planning to turn away after a few seconds. But he couldn’t move, en captured and fascinated by something deeper. Maybe emotionally? You were pretty reserved most of the time, so it was only fate Josh, the ultimate extrovert, would gravitate towards you.
Or, maybe it was the way you gagged on your toothbrush, and how he wished it was you gagging on his cock, begging for air as his hands balled up your hair and forced your head down. Only stopping when he felt all of his cum being swallowed, cock clean of any streaks of it in the first place.
Or was it your body, bent over at the sink practically teasing him with your pajama shorts, the bottom of your ass sticking out if he looked hard enough. He’d check over the film again just to make sure.
Your drenched tank top, just the top part of it wet before it reached down to your boobs, nipples hard, peaking through the thin material. He knew how cold the cabin could get, he hated it, but maybe he’ll keep it extra cold, just in your room.
He couldn't resist, not this time, or last time.
Josh rushed to his room, the biggest one that of course, had cameras set up. Not really to watch anyone else, he trusted them enough to not burn the cabin down, but it was to watch you. Though, that wasn't enough, so he relied on the glimpses he'd capture with his camera, choosing which ones to download—send to his phone to watch over and over again.
He landed on a picture of you, a candid of everyone participating in a very immature game of drunk twister. Everyone around cheering as you were the last one standing, paying full attention fully on you for once, and not a background character.
His cock twitched, aching to be released from the jagged, rough material of his jeans. His eyes scanned the photo on the little presented screen of the digital camera.
It can’t just stay in here, trapped in the camera with all the other useless photos of people he took.
He worked fast, faster than ever before to get the photo transferred to his laptop, which now sat on top of the desk, loading slowly, enough time for Josh’s hand to slowly release the zipper in his jeans, and reach under the layer through his boxers.
His hips jerked, feeling his cold fingers against his pulsating cock still trapped in his boxers. He quickly discarded them, pooling at his legs as he stroked himself, free hand gripping the arm of his chair as he continued to stare at the blank screen.
When it loaded, he swore he felt his cock harden even more, if that was even possible.
“Shes so….fu-fucking hot. Fuckkk.” Moans stuttered out of his lips, irresistible and rumbly as his hand left his cock, a wad of spit flying into his hands to lubricate the aching matter, exposed to the cold air, ready to be attended to again.
He didn't last long, the feeling of the lubrication made it even worse, only a few strokes later and he was spewing out curses, cum shooting out into his hand, and splotches landing on the open laptop.
And right in the middle of the grainy photo was you, an opaque cum stain landing right on your face through the computer screen.
Josh didn't know how much more he could take. Admiring, feeling and wanting you from a distance wasn't enough, never enough for him.
The pictures didn't do enough justice to your real life beauty. And even now, you are closer to him than ever before. Even if it was just a few friendly conversations, the barrier still lies between him, and taking you as his.
Elijah.
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The next day came, waking up, feeling normal, calm enough to start your day without your thoughts swarming with the dread of impending doom.
That was, until you checked your phone and realized Elijah still hasn't text back. Immediately, you dropped the phone, pacing around the room trying to come up with solutions to ease your mind. Delusions to not spiral, and again, ruin your entire trip.
“When is he getting here…Maybe he’s…at home taking care of his sister! No wait, his sister is almost 30.” You paused, mulling in thought still pacing on the creaky floorboards growing louder, and faster with each step.
“Or…he’s the one sick, maybe the cold got to him. That’s possible…but he would tell me if it was just a simple cold! Oh my gosh…” Your hands were pulling at your hair, stroking the pieces between your fingers before letting that go, moving on to chewing your finger nails. Loud clattering, deafening the sounds around you, barely hearing the knocking on the door, before the person grew inpatient, opening it to see you pacing.
Turning around, your hands dropped from your mouth to see Josh, a look of concern on his face, but one of absolute fear on yours.
“Did you…did you see any of that?” Your voice was tentative, low avoiding Josh’s eyes grazing you, feeling like you were being judged intently—heavily like a group of girls noticing you walking through the hallways of middle school all over again.
“Yea I did, is that the answer you’re looking for?” Josh knew he messed up royally when he saw your face drop, backing away on your feet into the room, Josh walking in more to close the gap.
“No that’s not the answer! Why did you have to see that?!” You tried walking past him, out the room, hell fleeing the country seems damn good right now, but Josh gripped your arm, holding you in place.
“It’s okay, really. I’ll forget this even happened.” Like hell he could forget this, he can already see himself recalling this moment over and over again.
He can’t let himself fall through the cracks, not right now when he had the perfect moment to finally talk to you alone.
“Would you really?” You asked, turning around to finally look Josh in the eye, face relaxing when you saw the small smile ease onto his face.
“I will.” Lies, lying straight through his teeth Josh winded up to say something else.
“But I have to ask you something.”
“…What is it?”
“Are you— um okay…is something going on?” Silence, you stood there, feeling like an utter fool for him even asking why you were pacing and muttering like a madman.
“Uh I don’t wanna say, it’s kinda dumb.”
“You can tell me, I won’t judge.” After he said this, you went to close the door and sit on your bed, sinking into the material and twiddling with your blanket, preparing yourself to speak.
Socialize, what you promised Sam, right?
“It’s about Elijah.” Is what you said as Josh sat down right next to you, but stiffened up when he heard the name
Fuck
“Did he not bring enough condoms or something? Because we have mo-”
“No it’s not that, I wouldn't be stressed if that was the case!” Cutting Josh off, he laughed when he saw your panicked expression.
“Oh so he did bring enough.”
“NO-...that’s not the point, I'm starting to hope he doesn't bring anything and just stays at home instead.” Josh doesn't get the chance to reply before you add onto your statement.
“He texted me yesterday, saying he had an emergency and won't be getting to the lodge until tomorrow. Well today is that day, and I still haven't gotten a text back…”
“Maybe he’s busy…?” Josh knew it was stupid to say something that would be glaringly obvious—but listening along was probably the best thing to do. You took the hint and spoke again.
“For almost a whole day though? That’s what’s concerning me, because he said it was an emergency, not what type of emergency, or if he needed any help. He might actually need help for all I know, and I'm stuck on this stupid mountain with no way to contact him!” You yelled, not even meaning to do it, but at least you got it out.
“Okay first off, this mountain isn't stupid" he teased, you rolling your eyes at his remark.
“And seriously, stop worrying so much. If he really was in trouble, or needed your self, he would've contacted you by now. Clearly he doesn't care about his loving girlfriend enough to let you know the only reason he’s not coming up here on time is because the stores around us don't carry extra small condoms, so he had to run and go find some.” Even though it started off as trying to give advice, it once again turned into another one of his cruel jokes—a cruel joke you almostlaughed at.
“Shut up Josh.”
“Do you really mean that?” His tone was flirtatious, just on the barrier of it before you caught him, the fading smoke screen he set up for himself. His brain kept flashing back, back to last night, everything he felt when he saw you on tape, and how perfectly he captured everything on you.
Which he realized, you’re wearing the same hoodie in the drunk twister photo, only a bleach stain covering the inside of your sleeve.
“...No, I don’t.” Josh didn't say anything, his brain in body in 2 separate places, both showing and moving in completely different ways, like they weren't even connected.
No camera, no hard pulsating erection in his jeans, just him, and the soft covers of your temporary bed that smells justlike you, even after one night.
“I get what you’re saying about Eli, but Sam told me I had to be social this year, and I can’t just stay glued to her and Ash all week.” As you were talking, you felt Josh move closer, shoulders touching as his weight on the bed made you lean towards him, feeling each others body heat, and not doing anything to move..
“Eli overheard, and said it would be a great excuse to have some time alone…But he’s not here, so I don’t know what to do.” Josh felt you shrinking, slouching to look down at your feet hanging off the edge of the bed.
“What do you mean, you’re talking to me aren't you?"
“Yea, but you’re probably gonna run off somewhere with somebody else. You’re like…the most extroverted person I've met.” His hand moved on top of yours, making you straighten up and look at him, eyes flying wide open before turning away hastily.
“I’ll stay with you.” Josh said this lowly, as if other people were around to hear him.
“...What.”
“I’ll stay with you throughout the day, you know, build up that social credit. I’ll be your first big payment.” You scoff at his remark, looking at him with a small smile on your face.
“When you say it like that, it makes it seem like I have a bad credit score.”
“Only socially.” You lightly pushed Josh, giggling as you stood up, feeling the nerves melt off of you the more he talked.
“Well, we better get started. I want some breakfast.” You held your hand out behind you, Josh looking you up and down with a tight lip smile, something dark lingering behind his eyes.
Finally, he was getting somewhere.
“I’ll cook for you.” Josh took up your offer, slipping his fingers between yours, cold and calloused hands intertwined with yours as you led the way out the room, Josh trailing behind, already imagining all the things he’d be able to do with you. Eyes darting, mind running, not at all matching the slow pace he walked.
Like Josh said, he stayed with you for most of the day—occasionally talking to the others, but ultimately revolving and spending most of his time around you.
He was nice to talk to, calm but also knows how to spark up a conversation when needed. He noticed the small things, how you’d distance yourself when someone asked a question, or just talking to him. He’d pull you closer, wrap his arm around your shoulder and continue to talk as if nothing happened. How you’d cut off your own sentences, thinking he wouldn't want to listen. But every time you did, he’d always let you talk, give you the floor and say it’s okay to take up some space—make it known you have opinions and things to say.
You were close, too close for people not to notice.
“Why is Josh so close to her all of a sudden? Doesn’t he know she’s like…taken already?” Emily, sitting on the large sofa next to Matt said this as she looked over into the kitchen, Josh standing right behind you as you finished pouring him a drink, his hand rubbing yours as he took the glass.
“Maybe they’re just getting to know each other more? Josh can be a little…pushy at times though.” Matt tried to reason, voice low trying to get Emily to do the same. But he knew it was useless.
“Pushy? More like straight up creepy.” Her voice carried, boastful making you whip your head around. Josh didn’t move, leaning against the counter as you looked at Emily, already preparing to say something else, pointing her finger at him.
“I hope you know she has a boyfriend Josh, because you’re being a major creep right now!” Matt pulled her hands away, lightly scolding her while looking past her head, seeing your eyes widened, but Josh with a twitching smile on his face.
“I know, I’m just filling in for him. She won’t be needing him for a while.” His tone was sultry, flirtatious undertones layered all throughout it as he continued to drink the strong liquid you poured him.
“Eugh gross! And you’re okay with this?” She stood up, pointing at you. Matt tried to stop her, but ultimately failed.
“You’re okay with Josh being you’re temporary, pretend boyfriend until your actual one comes? What type of girlfriend are you? Surely the type to get cheated on.” She stared directly at you, your eyes darting away as Matt shushed her, the glass in your hand shaking with the unease pumping through your bloodstream.
“You too scared to say something? Because you know I’m right!” A sharp tug was felt by Emily, Matt already pulling her away.
“Em shut up! Please…let’s just go, leave them alone.” Matt dragged her away to another room, leaving you and Josh alone in the wide open space, dead, nervous air particles flying around.
“Yo-You don’t have to say anything Josh, it’s fine..” He did partially listen to your request, just sitting there basking—feeling your high emotions radiating off of you.
He felt it, you felt the even brute force of it. Emily at the end of the day, was right. Depending on others to get through the day—feeling empty without it, relying on temporary fixes is fucked up.
“When the fuck is he getting here, I can’t take this anymore.” You muttered to yourself, sitting and dropping your head down onto the marble counter.
Though you heard it, you felt Josh standing up, the creak of the chair giving it away. You thought he’d just leave you, but instead, strong arms wrapped around in a tight hug, Josh behind you leaning his head onto your shoulder.
“He’ll get here soon, just stay with me.” You nodded weakly, keeping your head down on the table. Josh not backing up—at least, for a long time.
It was wrong, so wrong to accept this, feel comforted by him.
While you did hang out with him, you weren't nervous, feeling like a waste of space and being a floater. Or feeling paranoia creep up and take advantage of the fact it was easy to slip in and ruin your whole day.
But there was one thing you noticed, that would contribute to that reason.
He didn’t have his camera on him, filming and taking you apart with just his eyes—the camera lingering and always falling on you. So asking was the only pursuit of action.
“Hey, Josh.” The two of you were on the couch, scrolling on your phone as Josh sat half asleep, jolting awake from you lightly shaking him, eyes darting over to see your wistful expression.
“Hm, what is it?” His voice groggy, deep as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to get them to focus on you.
“How come you don’t have your camera today? You’re usually always filming.” Josh had a sly smile crawl onto his face.
“Do you want me to film you? I always can.” He crossed his arms, a sly smile as he watched your eyes widen and you quickly placing your phone down.
“N-no, yes! I don’t know, I was just…curious.”
“It’s okay.” Josh chuckled, pausing before he spoke again, tilting your head up to look into your eyes.
“I only film people that want to be filmed.” His voice was husky, low. But after he said this you leaned back, slipping from his grasp.
“That’s bullshit! You’re always filming me.”
“Well, you’ve never resisted.” He leaned in closer, making up for the gap you created between. His hands slipped around your waist, fingers resting on your back as he pulled you closer.
“You just look so beautiful on camera, how could I resist?” You didn't move, couldn't, or…didn't want to. This is wrong, you have a boyfriend, a boyfriend who isn't here, and doesn't care for you like you do, never gives the attention you crave so badly, living off of scraps like a starving city pigeon.
Josh liked you, he wanted you. And you liked that, which was so, fucking wrong. But it felt too good just to give up.
“Josh…” Mouth dry, the words sucked right out of you, only you biting your lip looking at Josh, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh.
“Say it for me, use that mouth of yours for something useful.” Your lips were parted, adjacent as you felt Josh's breath waver on your face, cheeks hot, burning with the feeling of uncertainty—but curiosity boiling over.
“I-...” Cut off before you could even say anything, the sound of heavy footsteps made your head fly over to look at the source, only to see Chris looking, frozen with a confused expression on his face at the sight.
“Someone's at the door…it's for you.” Chris pointed towards you, the realization of what was happening slapping you in the face.
Josh was so close, you were so close, and somebody saw, Chris saw. A second to late and it would've been an uglier site to witness, who knows what's swirling through Josh’s mind.
You stood up, quicker as ever as you thanked Chris and rushed to the door, opening it fully knowing who was on the other side.
Elijah, bags dropping as he hugged you, crossing the threshold of the door by pushing you in, his cold jacket rubbing against your skin as he pulled tighter and shut the door with his back, only letting go when he saw Josh standing behind you.
“Hey Josh! Good to see ya, how’ve you been?” He walked past you, punching Josh in the arm in a joking way to see his reaction—only his face curled into a smile, one that’s clearly being faked.
“Why are you so late? Your lovely girlfriend here has been worried sick about you.” He talked with a falsely sweet tone, his taunting gaze stuck on you, looking past the oblivious man.
“It’s…complicated.” Elijah scratched the back of his head, Josh scoffing before you opened your mouth to speak.
“So complicated you couldn’t even text me back?”
“I-babe it’s not like that I promise.” He turned around, walking over to you with his hands up, easing closer and closer.
“I was just so busy, I forgot to check my phone.” Your head was down, but you felt his rough hand lift up your chin to look him in the eye.
The same way Josh did, noticing the way his fingers grazed—lovingly, to close for comfort. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing.
To his relief, you pushed Elijah away, eyes widening when he felt the force on his shoulders.
“I’ll tell you everything, just listen to me!” His voice raised, a desperate attempt to make you listen. He moved forward again, his finger pointing in your face, only for you to slap his hand away.
“Listen to you lie again?! I’m sick of your shit Eli, I always listen, YOU never listen to me!!” Elijah threw his hands up, turning to the side before focusing back on you again.
“I always fucking listen to you! I’m tired of putting up with your problems. It’s always something new every day!” ‘Oh Eli who's that.’ ‘Eli I feel ugly. Am I ugly?’ ‘Eli are you fucking cheating on me?’ Or you're saying that I'm a selfish asshole who MAYBE likes to do things on their own, and doesn't want to be attached by the hip and cater to you all the damn time!”
Yelling, cursing, hands out to show how big his words were, as big as his voice that carried through the entire entry way.
Josh was at his limit, stepping in the middle to push the two of you apart, his gaze sympathetic towards you, endearing but immediately switching to burning, dark and deceptive seated rage.
“Enough with the yelling! If this is how you guys always greet each other then we’re gonna have a huge problem.” Josh walked away, the both of you staring as his eyes darted, hands still out signaling to stay separated.
“You two need to cool off from each other.” Elijah's eyebrows furrowed, cocking one upward as his face strained in resentment.
“What do you mean cool off?? We’re fine.”
“No. No you’re not.” Josh walked away, leaving him confused until he came back with a set of keys, throwing them at him, only for the metal object to ultimately fall through his grasp.
“Go ahead to the lodge, she’s gonna stay back with me for a little bit.” Josh grabbed your arm and dragged you away, confused you interjected.
“He’s going alone!? He can’t go without me!” You forced your head to turn, Josh smirking—knowing you just turned around to see Elijah walking out the door, no resistance to Josh's idea.
“Well, it seems like he’s already left.” He eased closer, hands snaking around your waist pulling you closer to press flesh against his body.
“Don’t worry, I'll help you to the lodge.” He whispered, placing a soft kiss on your temple, waiting for your reaction, resistance, a plea to show that you didn't want it, wanting him to continue.
But you were still, feeling the weight of it all.
It was wrong, wrong for Josh to be doing this, wrong to be okay with it. But profoundly wrong to feel something, to feel your heart rate increase, hands clench. Not stricken with fright, but with a feeling you know is gonna get you in trouble.
Temptation.
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Josh did indeed stick by his promise. Help you gather all your things and walk you to the lodge, slow, uneven steps all the way.
He wanted to let your own emotions fester, let you decide what you wanted to move forward with. But the more he waited, the more holding back became a lesser option.
He trailed behind you, eyes trailing up and down, hungry for something—anything out of you. He lugged the bags along, insisting on carrying everything, so he had no other option but to trail behind.
“Hey Josh…could you walk in front of me?” Your teeth chattered, crossing your arms as your eyes darted, lips pursing as you talked again.
“I feel like something—someone is…watching me. Ever since I got to the lodge I’ve been feeling like this, like I'm being followed. I used to think it was you with your stupid camera, but now that you don’t have it…I don’t know what it is now.” You tripped, stumbled before catching yourself to look at Josh, wide eyed and pathetic looking—at least, to him.
“So can you stay close, please?” Your voice trembled, lowered significantly, but Josh nodded as he sped up, walking closer all the way until the lodge.
He couldn't do it, take anymore when he witnessed Elijah hug you and close the door as fast as he came, slamming in his face before he saw yours. A soft painted expression all over, so tender and soft looking under the candle light.
He couldn't let that be the last time he saw you, at least that's what he’s planned for tonight.
Tired of being teased, tired of lurking in the shadows. Watching from a distance before running away to indulge in the fantasies that played through his head every time he looked at your pictures.
So nervous, so reserved, but so beautiful, that’s what he liked about you. So anxious when just around people, but in private, you were a different person. Maybe it was a performance thing, feeling like you had to always have a cover to not let people draw their attention to you. It worked for the most part, but your neediness is your weakness. So needy for people to do whatever they want to you, or let them have their way with you because it felt good, felt a co-dependency on the feeling of being valued.
He’s witnessed it, your neediness being fulfilled by something so shallow, as his own camera captured it. The way you snuck off to make out with Sam, probably a drunken decision by the way you could barely keep yourself standing. Josh walked, peeking through the crack of the door looking in to see, hear everything, feel it travel down with his breathing picking up, imagining he could just wedge himself between. See, feel everything for himself.
Various other recordings and pictures, of examples of pieces of your personality chipping. He figured you out a while ago—he just needed a moment to slip in.
He’d find it, eventually. But when he pulled the camera from his jacket pocket, walking around the lodge cabin's window to look through, seeing Elijah already pinning you down to the bed.
He didn’t do anything, he never did. Only clicking record, and letting the tape roll. But he miss-clicked, pressing the shutter button instead of the small red dot used to record.
The camera flashed, flashed so bright the loudest shutter sound ever. You stopped, pushing Elijah off before completely freezing—clearly he wasn't aware of what just happened. His face curled, a look of irritation castrated over as you pulled the blanket under you to cover yourself.
“Wa-Why’d you push me?!” He yelped, scramming off the bed to stabilize himself.
"Someones watching us…I can feel it.” You sat up, keeping the blanket covering you as you scanned, frantically peeking through the window, while also still staying away from it.
“Babe-you can’t be serious, we’re all alone out here.” Rubbing his face, he wiped off the sweat to try and mask his annoyed expression.
“No we're not, I know I'm not crazy!” You yelled, almost making no impact when Elijah sighed, gears turning on what to say next.
“Alright then, let me go look.” His voice was flat, plain and annoyed as ever as he made his way towards the window. Josh heard this, clenching his jaw and freezing still, masking and preparing for what comes next. But to his relief, your hand gripped his wrist, stopping him from moving.
Now he can move, unnoticed to the two of you.
“NO don’t, I don’t want to be seen…” He snatched his hand away, turning around to look at you with squinted eyes.
“Then what the fuck are you so scared of?” His question ran a blank in your mind, no real proof answer coming out.
“I-I don’t know…”
“Exactly my point! I’m getting sick of your excuses. You always act like your some cute innocent girl that does no wrong, so scared and nervous with everything. I’ve been trying to take things slow, go with your tempo. But any guy would get impatient with you.” He ranted on, pacing around the room, the same way you did this morning. If the situation wasn't so tense, the effects of déjà vu would've set in.
“I’m sorry, you know my anxiety-”
“What, your anxiety that isn't even diagnosed OR medicated. Maybe if you get the damn pills to fix this shit, I'd understand you. But right now, you’re acting like a bitch with some fake disorder.” He walked to the door, turning back to look at your sunken expression, feeling his words starting to sink in.
“You want the attention, but not the problems that come with it.” Final nail in the coffin. The door slammed, mind running with everything that just happened.
A bitch, he called you a bitch because you didn't fuck him, real shallow, real fucking shallow.
Flopping back onto the bed, you were ready to let it out, feel how helpless and exposed you felt. Telling the one person you’d sworn you trust with your problems, only for them to be spat back in your face—used against you for something only he wanted.
“Am I really that annoying?” You stared at the ceiling, talking to yourself.
“Like I get some people can’t deal with me, but you…” You felt your throat tighten, emotions brewing before you stopped yourself. Snatching the pillow laying beside, you screamed into it, lifting it off your face, only to still feel the exact same.
“Well, that did nothing.” Throwing the pillow, you rolled over, planning to just curl up and fall asleep, hoping whatever just happened will dissipate by the sun rising—that’s how it always is.
But, a phone, probably yours kept buzzing, eventually turning into repeated calls, over and over again.
Ignoring it wouldn’t do any good, so turning over to grab it, you realized it was Elijah’s phone, not yours.
“Didn’t know you were so popular.” Grabbing the phone, switching the silencer on you planned to throw it, throw it across the room, or wherever the hell it goes, a thought popped in your brain.
“All these messages, let’s see who they’re from.” Tapping the screen, a combined set of 15 notifications popped up, and 3 missed calls. Some of the notifications were normal, but one name keeps popping up, one from a person you definitely didn't know.
Sydneey, the name repeating over and over again as you looked at the string of messages.
Sydneey❤︎: I miss you
When are we getting back together?
You always complain about your gf when im right here
I need you to fuck me again
Is that gonna make you reply?
Or are you busy worrying about that other bitch
HELLOOOO
The 3 missed calls, all from her in the span of 5 minutes after the messages she sent. You didn’t know his password—he was always so secretive with his phone. But you could assume what the rest of the messages looked like.
Now was the appropriate time to throw the phone, throwing it across the room before popping up, ready to confront him. It took courage, because after all, someone was watching—the feeling never left.
But you couldn't even get up, the door swung open, but you worked fast.
“Who's Sydneey?” Tone calm, collected masking the fact you were ready to break down, but questions left open ended, answers still brushed under the rug wouldn't slide by unnoticed.
“Oh Syd? You mean my friend? I don’t get why you’re-” You cut off his words, a sharp slap across his face causing this, the sound echoing through the room.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” Elijah palmed his cheek, stepping back as you closed the gap, moving forward with him.
“You’re a CHEATER, fucking some other girl and trying to lie about it!!” You yelled, pushing him away from you causing him to stumble.
Only to get back up, laughing while lifting his head up, something manic snapping, absolute fury flowing through his veins. Though, it was greater than yours, intimidating.
“I mean can you blame me?! You’re always making excuses on why we can’t have sex. And most of the time, it’s because some stupid ass THING that isn't there is watching you. I wanted to be with someone NORMAL!!” He got closer, only for you to reply with the same energy.
“Normal?? Do you expect me to be some cookie cutter vanilla BITCH as you called me?!”
“I expect someone who doesn't act like walking outside alone is gonna get them killed!” He stormed off, grabbing his coat off the table and stomping towards the door, your heart dropping when you saw him grabbing the handle.
“I’m not acting, it's true!!” You tried reaching out, but a backhand slap to the face made you jump back, the searing pain radiating off your skin.
“IT'S NOT.” The door flew open, screaming when you saw exactly who you were trying to run, hide from standing right in front of the door.
He couldn't react. You watched as the perpetrators hand flew to connect with his face, a hard punch that made him immediately fall back. That’s when you saw who was behind it.
Josh, standing at the door, staring with eyes so dull, but a smile on his face as he crossed the threshold of the door.
“Josh…what are you doing?!” You shrieked, scooting back into the counter as his arms were open wide, like he wanted a hug.
“I wanted to see you…I-I saved you, the least I can get is some love.” As he spoke, you saw Elijah rise slowly, grabbing Josh by the ankle to try and drag him down.
But apparently, Josh was already on top of that.
“You’re seriously still fighting?” Out of his coat, he wielded a syringe, filled with a mysterious substance as he shoved it into Elijah's neck, injecting him before landing a final blow across his face, watching as he went still, falling back as blood dripped from his nose to the hard wood floor.
“Wha-What the fuck did you do. IS HE DEAD?!” Josh scoffed, his gaze averting to you.
“No. No, not that. I really wish he was though.” You whipped around to run to the bathroom, flinging the door open to lock the door—hell escaping through the window would be a good option.
But he was quick, quicker than you’d ever be.
“I’m just making sure we can be together.” Pushing you over, rough, you hit your head on the bathtub, vision hazy as you watched his hands reach out to grab you, but you felt yourself slip out of consciousness, all before he could even do anything.
˙✧˖°📸 ༘ ⋆｡˚
Groggy, woken up from your drowsy state with an uncomfortable feeling. Head hanging with a throbbing pain only lasting the moment your eyes open and adjusted to your surroundings.
You felt the thick, itchy band aid that wrapped your head, you tried to lift your arms to feel it, scratch it—but you weren't meant with resistance.
Then it dawned on you, crashing down realizing your hands were tied up, roped down to an office chair with the wheels locked. The room was dark, only the illumination of the open laptop lighting the way to highlight your scrutiny, but fearful expression.
Your heart was leaping, realizing you were stuck with no way out, attempting to move and find your way through the room. It was a bedroom—way different looking, bigger than the one at the lodge you resided in. Meaning, you were taken away from the lodge, but the gap in your memory did no justice, ready to bash your head again and see if it’d jam things back into place.
Then, the TV cuts on, immediately dragging your attention away to pan at the screen. It was static, confusing before the screen cut to black. You thought you rolled over a remote, or somehow the TV turned on its own, but it cuts to show something else, something that made all the blood drain from your face.
It was you, only, from a distance, being recorded in secret from the corner of the room. It zoomed in before cutting to the next clip, hearing the heavy breathing as the person holding the camcorder cut it.
Each clip was like that, pictures and other moments. Only they became more intimate, moments you thought would never see the light of day.
Changing clothes, quickly before running out the room. Making out with Sam, drunk and falling to your knees crying after, the feeling of being watched worsening, even when under the influence. The picture of you playing Twister, a supposed happy, though embarrassing candid moment now completely flipped in narrative.
It was sickening, watching the tapes roll and realizing you weren’t crazy—someone was watching you.
It was too much, too much to handle as you dropped your head and let the tears roll off your face, falling onto your lap unable to block the noise, block out the whispers and heavy breathing.
It all became clear who was behind it, but your brain couldn't believe it. You’d recognize that voice from anywhere, but you couldn't deny it anymore when the camera flipped, showing Josh's face. Malicious, a smile so beautiful, but so tainted before it cut to black, static filling the space once again.
“She’s beautiful, isn't she?” You heard his voice, grabbing your shoulder to lean down, the husky feel brushing your neck..
“Why-why did you do this? I-I’ve been so paranoid. All this time and it was you…” You choked between sobs, attempting to calm yourself, only to fail when you heard Josh speak again.
“Like you really care.” Instead of anguish, confusion jammed your brain.
“W-what?” Josh scoffed, noticing the way he bit his lip before speaking.
“Don’t act like you aren’t enjoying yourself, you love the attention, especially the attention I’m giving you right now.” He spoke into your skin, softly kissing your neck, trailing down your hot skin, suckling—memorizing the taste, the way you feel. His hands wrapped around, wiping your damp face of your salty tears.
“I don’t!” He stopped, turning the chair around to look you in the eye, despite the dark room, his face still illuminated and showed off every feature. Each feature that changed, micro movements
“Then why aren’t you resisting? Why aren’t you screaming for help, trying to get me off?” He paused, getting up to grab a camera, setting it up before turning back, unbeknownst to you as he walked back over, the darkness concealing him. Your thoughts were jammed, only one thing getting through that made you question yourself over and over again.
Why weren't you resisting?
Well, it seems like Josh has the answer for the age old question. As he spoke, he kneeled down, hands trailing up your thighs looking up.
“You love it when people cater to you, treat you like royalty, fill that big empty void you always feel—because nobody can fulfill that.” Your legs squeezed together, involuntarily the more he reached closer to your aching core. Your breathing picked up, feeling his hands reach the waist band, a light tug, indicating exactly what he wants.
“Nobody but me. And you know it” It was evident, even though you put up a front, saying you don’t want it, your not like this—it still showed through your body. Josh had a sheepish smile, seeing the way you lift your hips up to let him slide your pants off, eyes looming as he peeled them off so slowly, teasingly as his rough hands gripped your bare thighs. He lowered his head, spreading your legs as you squeaked out the question you held your tongue on.
“Why me?…Why’d you choose me?” He didn't stop, but you felt as he smiled into your warm skin, so close to the area aching for attention.
“Because I know I’d be the better man for you.” Josh rubbed your clit through your panties, feeling how wet the cloth was, and how you moved your hips to feel more friction.
“Show me…sh-show me how you can be better.” You were needy, needy for his touch, teasing you for so long. Only, he finally caved and slipped a hand under the cloth, fingers slicking up and down, teasing your entrance.
Silence, only a split moment before he shoved his fingers inside, his cock hardening, tight against his jeans as he heard you moan, loud in his ear.
His imagination had always done the work for him, hand gripped tight around his cock as he envisioned you, right below him as he had full control, breaking you, putty in his hands.
It was better than any scenario he played in his, over and over again to ease the urge that consumed him every time he saw you.
“I even patched you up, has Eli ever done that for you? Help you like I have?” His fingers continued to pump inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit, pressing down hard on the swollen bud.
“N-no” you said, caught between a moan as you felt his fingers curl, hitting and digging right in the spot, gasping and unable to control yourself, not even thinking about his question anymore.
He kept talking, mumbling words under his breath you couldn't even begin to decipher. Only the sounds of his fingers working you, pulling in and out as you squirmed in the office chair, the restraints burning your skin the more you moved—the pain just another layer on top of the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy.
You were close, feeling the knot in your stomach form as he pushed forward—the chair squeaking the more you moved.
You tried to speak, but the feeling of Josh pulling his fingers out almost made you cry, whining and begging for him.
“Josh, please….go bac-” Your words were cut off, the taste of your own juices on your tongue as Josh shoved his fingers into your mouth—deep in your throat, making you cough and gag at the feeling. Though, the next split second you were sucking on his fingers, tongue dancing around your mouth as you licked, every ridge of his fingers feeling the grace of your tongue, like you were giving a blowjob.
“Fuck, I don’t know what your gonna do to me.” His fingers left your mouth, glistening as a string of saliva connected.
“Untie me then, and I’ll show you.” Your head hung low, looking up through your lashes trying to convince him, but Josh wasn't going for it, not even attempting to reach for the restraints that made your hands feel like there two seconds away from falling off.
“I can’t do that yet.” He left from the kneeling position, turning around to disappear into the darkness, the sound of rustling filling the empty space.
“And why can’t you? I think I've suffered enough.” Silence, no reply, your begs falling on deaf ears as the rustling suddenly stopped, Josh stalking back towards you, only holding something.
His face was plain, ridden of expression as he saw him wielding a knife, sharp, shining despite the dark atmosphere.
“Not enough, this is just the beginning.” Your heart rate jumped, higher than before as you heard his voice, only focusing on the feeling of the cold knife tracing your arm, up and down going to the restraints, but dissipating and repeating the motion over and over again.
His free hand lifted up your shirt, shoving the excess cloth into your mouth. He ogled, licking his lips as he dragged the knife up your exposed stomach, reaching your boobs. His free hand slipped under your bra, cold, rough hands kneading and feeling your hardened nipples, pinching them, making you moan into the material of your shirt. The knife continued its journey, a straight shot up from your sternum, your chest heaving as your breathing picked up—panting the higher it got.
“You’re so good for me, obedient. I could kill you right now, and you wouldn't even scream.” He stopped, your mouth no longer holding your t-shirt, only the knife resting right on your throat.
“I’d stab you before you could even make a sound.” The knife made its peak, reaching your chin to lift it up, holding your breath as your eyes shot down, looking at the thing that could very easily change your life.
And it seems like Josh wouldn't mind that.
But sooner or later, you felt it slowly easing away, Josh holding and fiddling with it before turning around to place the knife back onto his desk. Then he heard your voice, small and breathy
“You’re scaring me Josh…” That should've been a sign, a signal in your brain to turn on and tell Josh you couldn't do it anymore—play into his games and feel helpless under him.
But that part of your brain wasn't the one dominating your decision. Curiosity consumes you, wanting to see what he’s planned next. But the need to feel something, anything from him over weighted everything else.
“Yea?” You heard a zipper, rustling of Josh removing his jeans and folding them—having a thought in your mind, knowing what he wants next, watching him slip out of his boxers and letting his hard cock twitch, pulsating, begging to be attended to.
“Then I must be doing a damn good job then.” A sly comment, right before his cock shoved into your mouth, rough as his hips moved backwards again to piston into your mouth. He grunted as he sinked in again, completely ignoring you gagging, trying to keep up with the speed his cock pulled in and out of your mouth. Salty, warm skin filled your entire mouth, like you were being used as a human sex toy.
He grabbed a fistful of your hair, giving him more leverage to lean in and fuck into your mouth deeper, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat over and over again, feeling the vibrations of your grunts radiating through the entire lower half of his body.
You had to regulate yourself, breath in through your nose and make it through without somehow vomiting on his dick. But you felt his movements became sloppier, his grunts and moans carrying through the room as he finished, cum shooting streaks down your throat and remnants on your tongue. He kept moving, pulling your hair, harder, his dull fingernails digging into your scalp as he rode out the high.
He pulled out of your mouth, his hand reaching to your face, cupping your cheek and his thumb stroking your lips. He leaned in, breath fanning on your face before he kissed you, rough, just like the way he fucked into your mouth. He kissed like he was searching, exploring your mouth, looking for the answer hidden in stone with exactly what he wanted.
“You swallowed everything?” He pulled away, you opening your mouth to show him the proof of what he wanted. A smirk pulled at his lips, sastifiction.
“Good. You know what I wanted.” His hands lingered before reaching behind him, grabbing the knife again to cut at the ropes that restrained you, breathing out a sigh of relief when you had mobility again—freedom to do whatever means necessary.
Though, the burn marks on your wrist were still stained, Josh noticed.
“I’ll patch you up later baby.” He said this softly as his hands trailed, reaching under your shirt as he lifted it up, your arms going above your head to let him peel it off of your body.
You stood up, unaware of the rest of Josh's plan: What he wanted, how to torture you even farther—or how to use you before he tired himself out.
You wanted to take action—feel power over him like he did with you for so long. All this time he’s been watching, ogling from the shadows and straining your relationships.
Or was it pure luck—knowing if it weren't for him, you would've never found out about Elijah, or frankly prompted him to do it in the first place. Maybe it was to weed out the weak, show people who could really handle you, flaws and everything else on top of it.
Was it revenge? Or was it an overwhelming urge to finally have control over something.
You wrapped your arms around Josh, leaning in to kiss him before leading him to the bed. You pushed him back as you top, trailing down his jaw leaving sloppy marks down, his hands gripping your ass as you moved down to unbutton his flannel, sloppy kisses and bite marks left for each digit of exposed skin. He grunted, low and rumbly in your ear the more you worked, lapping and loving each passing moment.
Though, You only got so far, halfway unbuttoned you felt his hands on your waist as he moved from under, flipping you over to not rest on the bed.
“You can’t control me that easily.” He had his hands steady on your hips, knees trapping you between him, caged with no escape from his teetering gaze combing your exposed body.
His hands reached behind your back, unclipping your bra and quickly discarding it. His hands massaged your boobs, flicking and working soon to be replaced with his mouth. He sucked on your nipple, licking at giving both of them love before trailing lower, slipping your panties off with ease. Your back arched off the bed, feeling Josh lift his head up, his cock hardened, slicking it up and down your entrance, teasing and slapping, making you whine out.
“Josh…p-please.” You put your hands on his chest, though he moved them out the way, stealing another kiss from you before coming back up.
“Please what?” He knew what you wanted, he just liked to hear you beg, sound pathetic and needy just for him, and only him.
You stayed quiet, shifting your eyes away from Josh's to confide in something else. Just like how you would if you wanted to avoid someone, slowly phase into the background and sneak away.
“Come on, use these pretty lips of yours.” His face cupped yours, thumb trailing down your lip before you sucked on it, tongue swirling before he pulled it out of your mouth.
“No one's around…you’re all for me.” There's something lingering behind his eyes, a sense of longing, but desperation hiding it all too well—glossy eyes that made you fall all over again.
Falling for the person that stalked you, made you feel on edge for so long—but knew how to treat you, make you feel wanted, needed. It's exactly what you wanted.
“Please…fuck me.” His hands left your face, flying to your hips as he listened to your want—command almost as he lined up, pushing right in to fill you up, stretch your walls and tighten around him.
“Ngh…fuck.” Josh gritted between his teeth, feeling you clench around him before he pulled back out, slamming back in to feel the friction on his cock, a loud moan , walls clenching signaling for him to continue.
Your boobs bounced, his hands staying on his hips, fucking you rough, deeper inside making the bed frame slam against the wall.
The whole cabin could probably hear, but it didn't matter, especially not to Josh.
You wrapped your legs around his back, making him fuck deeper inside as he felt himself being pulled closer, trapped by your shaky legs—wobbling more and more as you felt yourself unwinding. Inching closer you felt your stomach clenching, stiffening the feeling of you breaking under Josh's spell, his touch making you feel so drunk on his need for you.
“I-I’m close.” Words broken up, moans sputtering out as you knew Josh felt the same, his movements becoming incoherent and desperate, release almost tasting the sweet finish line.
You finished first, a moaning mess right under as Josh continued to pound into you, harder before pulling out, stroking his cock as warm cum shot onto your stomach, boobs, and a splotch on your face.
You couldn't move, laying still on the bed as Josh moved from on top of you, disappearing into the darkness again to grab something—only to return with the very thing that made you feel the way you’ve felt for so long.
His camera, on and rolling as he got close to record your naked body, the streakiness of his wet cum still glistening on your skin.
But he couldn't capture your express, anguish and disdain filling you, dropping your mouth open to speak again.
“You…You recorded the whole thing?” You said it almost like you couldn’t—didn't want to believe it yourself.
But, you watched as he shut off the camera, the record button disappearing before he set it down on his dresser, replying to your question that didn't ease your nerves, as the feeling of deep regret set in.
“It was the perfect time. I mean, how could I resist?” He leaned in to kiss you, filled with a nasty leaving taste on your tongue—realizing the feeling of freedom was only temporary, unaware your lurking fear was just a few feet away.
The most intimate moment of your life was on tape, for play back at Josh’s disposal whenever he wanted.
It wasn't the fact he filmed it that scared you the most.
It’s knowing that the paranoia will never disappear, the feeling of being watched will only follow and cling to you—worsening each day you try and fight it, knowing you’ll never win the battle.
“I just wanna, tape you, all night.”
Notes: If yk ball, you would've already picked up this fic is inspired and titled after the song Tape you by N.E.R.D. If you haven't heard this song already I NEED you to go listen to it rn (and the rest of the album...🌚) Anyways, I hope yall enjoyed! Idk how to really feel about this, I considered dropping this a multitude of times, but pushed past that and now this exists. If I missed anything, or if it just seems off don't be afraid to tell me! I'm riding solo here it'd be greatly appreciated 🙏
── .⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: yandere!josh, voyeurism, bondage, 𝑫𝑼𝑩𝑪𝑶𝑵, a little bit of primal play, praise, body worship, lovesick!josh, forced blowjob, fem!reader, josh injects reader with drugs <3
𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒──Yandere!Josh invites you back to the Washington lodge for the yearly party and he chooses you to be the star of his new horror porno.
── .𖹭 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 7k+
── . 𖹭 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I'm sorry for the long wait angels, I'm gonna try and finish my kinktober list as fast as I can! Thank you for your patience <3 @k4sey1st
This fic was heavily inspired by the song Pornstar by Nessa Barrett! And inspired by that one Josh Washington edit, and of course inspired by that chase scene between Josh & Sam in the game <3
── .𖹭 "I wanna hear you talking dirty. I wanna see it on your face. I wanna feel you put the work in. I wanna watch you entertain." ── .𖹭
You always felt his eyes on you.
His perverted gaze.
You always pretended it wasn't there but it was always there. And it devoured you. He was restless, following your every move as you drank more than you should have. He watched your every breath, your every smile, and your eyes, he loved to watch your eyes as they darted away from his heavy gaze.
The room was filled with laughter and screams as the group watched scary movies and drank with each other in the dim lit room. Josh usually held these types of movie marathons in the theatre room, but for some odd reason, that room was off limits for tonight.
Instead, he had decorated the lodge with candles and made it a horror-themed party in honor of Halloween. He had always been the one to host these kinds parties, like his motto says, Let's party like we're fucking pornstars.
You found yourself drinking with Hannah and Beth, standing by the wall and snickering as you watched the scary movie, you were the closest to them afterall.
Yet as the night went on, Josh seemed detached from it all. He wasn't even focused on the movie, his focus was entirely fixed on you. Every time someone brushes past you, someone else’s hand grazing your arm, someone else making you laugh, his jaw tightens, just enough for you to notice if you were looking.
When you finally turned toward him, he was already waiting. His stare was heavy with fascination and possession, and it made your pulse skip.
“Having fun?” he asked, voice low as he slowly touched your waist with his fingers. It was such a light touch, yet it made your heart weak.
“Yeah, you really outdid yourself with the candles, only it's a bit cold in here.”
Josh looked down at you, “Yeah, hopefully the storm stops soon, the others want to check out the cabins nearby.”
You took another sip of your drink, “It's too cold for that. I'm going to enjoy myself with a nice warm bath when we're all done here.”
“You can use my bath, it's the biggest.”
“You flaunt that every time.”
He kept smiling at you yet his gaze didn’t move. He stepped closer, close enough that you could smell the faint trace of smoke on his jacket and the whiskey on his breath.
Then you were both abruptly interrupted with a loud scream from the horror film everyone was watching, and you jumped closer to him for comfort as it scared you. He chuckled as you held onto him for a second, he immediately wanted to hold onto you longer, reaching for you and pulling you closer.
“Sorry,” you apologize as you realized you jumped into his arms, “I don't usually get scared like that.”
You tried to separate yourself from his grasp but he held you closer and gave you that smile that always made you weak. “It's okay,” he said softly, "you're safe with me..”
As his arms held you, your heart started to pound louder than the film itself. The way his fingers dug into your arms, it was possessive, his touch was always possessive with you. You never minded it, yet tonight it made your heart race more than usual.
The room suddenly felt smaller. The movie played loudly as everyone watched, swallowing the silence that stretched between you. You weren’t sure if you should move, or if you even could.
Josh tilted his head, studying you with that same unnerving fascination, as though he was trying to peel back your thoughts and see what lived beneath.
And there it was again. That devouring gaze.
He wanted to devour you.
He wanted to peel back your layers of clothes and study every crevice of your trembling body.
He needed you. All of you.
You could feel a chill run down your spine as he slowly inched his head close to your face and whispered, “You know, I would love to see you star in a horror film.”
You blushed slightly at his words and his touch, the heat in your face warming up the rest of your body, “And why is that?” You asked in a flirty tone, “Is it because you want to see me get chased around while screaming blood murder, or is it just because you want to see me naked?”
Josh chuckled, his grip on your hips tightening just a bit before letting go, “Both.”
There was something unreadable in his eyes, something that made the air between you thicken. He cleared his throat and poured himself another glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the dim light of the fireplace. He was drinking a bit too much tonight, though that wasn’t anything new. The bottle beside him was already half-empty, its label peeling like old skin.
“You should slow down a bit, you don't want to fall asleep first, again.” You warned him, leaning against the wall with a teasing smile. “Last time they threw your ass in the snow.”
He chuckled lightly, that familiar low sound that always managed to crawl under your skin and make your heart skip. “Don’t worry,” he said, swirling the glass in his hand, “I can handle myself.”
“That’s a lie,” you shot back instantly, unable to stop the small smirk tugging at your lips. “You don’t know how to handle yourself for shit. You always come to me when you can’t.”
Josh’s grin faltered just slightly but it was enough to change the mood. He took a slow sip of whiskey, then set the glass down on the table with a soft thud.
“You should worry about yourself tonight,” He mummered as his gaze lingered on you for too long, his fingers trailing up your shoulder creepily, “You never know,” he continued, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile, “when someone can catch you off guard in your most vulnerable state..”
“You’re such a creep sometimes, Josh,” you muttered.
He only smiled and took another slow sip of his drink. He swirled it lazily in the glass, still watching you over the rim. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the movie playing in the background, but every time you shifted, you could feel his gaze slide back to you.
Hours passed, the movie ending in a blur of laughter and several finished bottles. The storm outside had quieted and the others had already stumbled off toward the smaller cabins scattered across the land, their voices fading into the snow. Hannah and Beth went together while Sam, Mike and Jess went to check out another cabin nearby. Emily, Matt, Chris and Ashley went off together as well.
You stretched, “Guess that’s my cue,” you said, grabbing your things. “I’m gonna take a bath. I smell like whiskey and wood smoke.”
“Need any help with that?”
You stopped mid-step and shot him a flat look over your shoulder. “In your dreams, Washington.”
He chuckled softly, watching you disappear up the creaking staircase. But his gaze lingered long after you were gone, following your footsteps until the sound of the door closing upstairs broke the silence.
The fire popped. Somewhere in the lodge, a window shuddered against the wind. Josh leaned back, the smirk fading into something dark. It was almost time.
The bathroom was warm, a small pocket of comfort against the biting chill that haunted the rest of the lodge. Steam curled up the walls and fogged the mirror, softening the edges of everything. You sank deeper into the tub, letting the water embrace you, the heat drawing sighs from your chest as the wind howled faintly beyond the frosted window.
Music drifted from your phone on the counter as you ran the bar of soap over your skin, tracing slow circles along your arms, your collarbone, the tension melting away, except for the one thing that refused to leave with it.
Josh. That heavy gaze that still lingered on your marked body. Even now, with the door locked and the sound of water surrounding you, his eyes were still there. That unblinking stare that followed your every move, every smile, every breath. You could almost feel it pressing against your back, as though he were still here, still watching through the walls.
And maybe he was.
You tried to shake the thought away, pressing the soap harder against your skin until it slipped from your hand and plunked into the water. A nervous laugh escaped you. “Get a grip,” you whispered to yourself. But the moment you closed your eyes, his face flashed behind your eyelids.
You could still feel his touch on you, staining your body even as you tried to wash it off. His fingers still dug into your skin, marking it as his own. It didn't matter how many times you tried to scrub him off of you, you could feel his touch slowly taking over your body.
Almost as if he was right there, touching you, and yearning for more.
Then suddenly you heard the door close.
Strange..
You immediately looked behind you as the candles near the door went out, no one was there, yet you still felt an unsettling presence.
“Hello?” you call out for someone, hoping someone had accidentally walked in and closed the door, “Is someone there?”
Yet you were met with silence.
“Guys, is there anyone there?,” You look around once again, “Anyone?”
“This isn't funny.”
“Josh?” you called again, softer this time. Then, a sound.
A slow creak of floorboards just beyond the door. Your heart started to race against your bare chest, and you started to feel like a prey who didn't know they were being hunted.
Your breath hitched. You didn’t know if it was your imagination, or if someone was fucking with you.
You rose from the water, the air biting at your skin the moment it met the cold. Goosebumps raced up your arms as you stepped out of the tub, wrapping yourself tightly in the nearest towel. You moved toward the counter, water dripping from your hair onto the floorboards. Your clothes should’ve been right there, folded neatly where you’d left them. But the space was empty. Just damp wood and a faint outline in the steam where the pile should’ve been.
“What the hell…” you whispered. You scanned the room again, checking behind the door, under the counter. Nothing. They were gone.
You let out a shaky laugh, clutching the towel tighter around you. “Okay, seriously, not funny! Josh? Emily? Hannah? You guys suck!”
Your voice bounced off the tiles, mocking you in its echo. Usually, someone would have cracked by now, Chris snickering from a corner, Emily laughing at you from afar, or Josh bursting in with that crooked grin, proud of himself. But tonight, there was nothing. No footsteps. No laughter. Just dead, cold silence.
It was too cold for this shit.
You hesitated before the door, fingers hovering over the knob. The hallway beyond was extremely dark. The candles that lined up against the wall cast a faint light just for you.
“Hello?” you called again, your voice trembling this time.
No answer.
Somewhere downstairs, the television still played the movie you’d all been watching. A horror film—Halloween—its muffled screams and eerie soundtrack echoing faintly through the wood and stone of the lodge.
Not scary at all..
You stepped out, barefoot, the floorboards creaking beneath your wet feet. You feel a familiar gaze lingering on your exposed body, and you feel like you are being hunted once again.
“Josh?” you tried again, quieter now. “This isn’t funny anymore.”
The only reply came from a loud scream from the movie downstairs. It completely frightened you, making you jump a little. You felt yourself trembling with each step you took on the cold wooden floors.
“This isn’t funny!” you called, voice echoing down the hall. “Seriously, what are you guys planning? If I follow this and find out you’ve been recording me, I swear to God—”
Then suddenly something caught your eye, a trail of candles perfectly lined up just for you. You crossed your arms, shivering. The towel wasn’t helping much, cold air slid against your damp skin. “Fine,” you grumbled. “You win. I’m following your creepy little setup, happy now?”
At the end of the candlelit path was the door to the theatre room. The one Josh always used for movie nights. “Alright, Josh,” you sighed, pushing the door open, “you got me. Let’s get this over wi—” The rest of your sentence vanished as the door slammed shut behind you with a violent thud. You spun around, heart leaping to your throat.
“Josh?”
No answer. Then, from somewhere in the darkness ahead, a faint click.
“Hello,” it said, deep and distorted, echoing from all around you. “Looking for me?”
“Who’s there?” you demanded, your voice shaking.
The voice chuckled, “I don’t think you’ll have much luck looking for me.”
You backed toward the door, but the handle refused to turn. It was stuck or locked.
“You’re only going to see what I want you to see and I have quite a lot to show you.”
Before you could respond, the screen turned on and suddenly you saw old footage. You blinked, confused. Then your stomach dropped.
It was you.
At first, you thought it might’ve been from one of your friends’ phones, a prank video, maybe. But the clips kept changing.
There you were, walking to your car. Standing in your kitchen, brushing your hair. Laughing with your friends. Reading alone in your house. Changing in your room. Sleeping in your bed. Masturbating in your bed.
“What the hell…” you whispered.
Your voice cracked as you stepped closer to the screen, the towel slipping slightly from your grasp. The footage kept rolling, days, weeks, moments you couldn’t even remember being watched. The camera followed you through hallways, over your shoulder, in your reflection in mirrors. You were being preyed on like an animal and you were oblivious to it. And now here you were, too late to do anything about it. You could only stand there, wide eyed, while your heart trembled.
He's seen every inch of you. Every part of your life.
The distorted voice returned, softer now, almost tender. “You never notice the little things, do you? The way you tilt your head when you think. The way you look away when someone stares too long. I’ve been watching all of it. Every moment.”
“It's unfortunate you never noticed what was right in front of you.”
You felt sick. Cold crawled up your spine, settling deep in your chest. This was sick.
The footage stopped abruptly on a still image—you, in the bathtub, just minutes ago.
“Open your eyes, she's quite beautiful, isn't she?”
You look at the video, they were standing there the whole time. What a fucking creep.
“A beautiful bathing bird.”
“Stop.” Your voice shakes, the way he preyed on you, it made you deeply sick.
“Do you think she has any idea what lies ahead?” You shake your head, your eyes trembling as they lay on the screen, “Do you think these were the last happy moments of this creature's life?”
Creature, he called you. Beautiful bathing bird. He was sick, viewing you as his trapped little dove. In his mind, you were his, and nothing more.
“Why are you showing this to me?”
“Why are you watching?”
Before you could respond, the projector flickered violently. The light sputtered, then cut to black.
Then, his voice again.
“I’m going to give you ten seconds.”
You froze.
“Ten…”
You freeze, looking around the room for someone, for anything to grab, to fight with, but you were empty handed.
“...Nine…”
You could feel your heart racing faster. You could hear it pounding against your chest, louder and louder.
“...Eight…”
And louder.
Your pulse pounded in your ears, your body refusing to move. The words wrapped around you like invisible chains, holding you still in place, prey caught in the hunter’s stare.
Before he could reach seven, the doors behind you burst open with a violent crack.
You screamed, stumbling backward as a figure stepped into the doorway, a tall man with a strange mask. The mask it wore was white and expressionless, it made your skin crawl.
“Little bird…” the voice cooed, this time not from the speakers but from him, standing just a few feet apart from you.
You bolted. The towel almost slipped from your body as you forgot to hold onto it.
Your feet hit the floor hard as you dashed down the aisle between the theater seats, your towel clutched desperately around you. The air felt colder now, biting your skin as you ran. Behind you, the masked figure followed, he knew you had nowhere to go, dragging out this little chase scene of his for his own sick pleasure.
You shoved through the side door and into the hall, your thoughts raced in your mind, where were the others—where was Josh—yet your thoughts were interrupted by a certain, taunting voice that echoed throughout the hall.
“Come on, little bird,” the voice called softly, taunting, almost playful.
You ran faster, as fast as your weak legs could take you. You sprinted through the hallway, the wooden floors echoing with your frantic steps. You tried screaming for help, but no one heard you.
Fuck this fucking lodge. It was too cold for this shit.
You grabbed the nearest handle and threw it open, slamming it shut behind you.
Your trembling hands flew to the knob. No lock.
“Shit,” you cursed.
Of course the room you chose didn't have a lock on it.
You pressed your back to the door anyway, trying to steady your breathing. You didn’t wait to see if he’d stop. You ran again ad still, his voice followed.
“Don't run, angel.”
His voice was so creepy, so distorted, yet it felt so familiar. It reminded you of his gentle and low voice.
Somewhere ahead you saw the old service door leading to the boiler room. You didn’t hesitate. You threw it open and dashed down the steps, the heavy door clanging shut behind you. Your heartbeat pounded in your throat as you reached the bottom. The tunnels stretched before you, it looked like a maze.
Perfect for a chase scene. Then you heard it, the creak of the metal door above. You pressed a hand to your mouth, forcing yourself to stay silent. Then the voice came again, closer this time.
“Where did you go, little bird?”
And then suddenly, with one quick movement, he grabbed you. He held you possessively as you squirmed like prey. He wrapped his arms around you and injected you with the syringe. You tried so hard to fight back, but you were so much weaker.
“Shh,” He gently soothes you, holding up as you slowly go limp in his arms, “Don't fight it.”
He reassured you gently as he could feel your arms and your legs slowly give up. He heard your muffled cries against him as he covered your mouth with his gloved hand, it was like music to his ears. He examined your pretty eyes as they trembled in fear, they were so beautiful to him. You would never truly understand how much he loved your eyes. The way they shake so delicately.
You tried to break yourself free from his grasp, his suffocating grasp. But once again, you were helpless before him. Falling into his arms as your mind went completely blank, and all you saw was pitch black.
The silence rang in your ears, and you could feel your body shaking like never before. And then—you felt yourself give up.
“It's okay, you're safe with me, little bird.”
You were captured. Caught by your predator you desperately tried to escape, and you were paralyzed from the drugs he gave you.
You didn't know if you were alone, all you heard was overwhelming silence, and the ringing of it. The silence rang once again, and it was pitch black still. You could feel a soft cloth wrapped around your eyes, and tape over your mouth.
You tried to move your limbs, but you were tied to something, to a metal chair. A very cold metal chair. You could feel your body tremble from the cold metal that touched your bare skin, and that's when you realize you were completely naked. He had taken your clothes, and now your towel. What a sick fuck. You were completely bare, helpless before the stranger who held you captive. Your hands shake and try to grasp at the rope around your hands but you only made the ropes tighter against your wrists. And all you could do was wait for him to return.
Your body was weak from the drugs he stuffed you with, you could feel the tip of your fingertips almost vibrating against the cold metal as your head pounded like a hammer. The drugs made you completely weak, more prone to being taken advantage of. You could barely keep your head up as you remember everything. You remember his words, the way he tried to reassure you as you passed out in his arms. The words echoed in your head, “Everything is going to be okay.” But you knew those words were a pathetic lie, and that you were stuck with a perverted maniac.
Flashes of the footage suddenly flashed in your mind, you remember what he had shown you on his screen, the way he stalked you and recorded you for who knows how long. It made your stomach feel like an empty pit that would soon be filled with the filth he'll taint you with.
He had been making a movie, and you were unaware of your part to play in it. If only you knew how big the role you had in it. Then you heard a sudden noise, footsteps. Slow and heavy footsteps. They were his. You immediately whimpered against the tape, wiggling and trying to escape before he entered the room, but it was too late. The door opened wide and you could feel his perverted eyes on you once again. Those eyes that haunted you, and hunted you down.
The sudden thud of the door closing startled you, causing your breath to quicken as the two of you were left alone. You stopped in your tracks, trembling from a mixture of the cold and the drugs running through your veins. His breathing was louder than your own. You could feel him standing over you, slowly studying your form as you were helpless before him.
He had dreamed of this moment for so long—almost too long.
The desired lamb, trapped at once in the wolf's den. The lamb had been long overdue for its death, for its taking. And now he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into your skin.
He broke the silence, “Did you enjoy your rest?"
You whimpered against the tape, shaking your head and desperately trying to not cry.
“Shh,” He reached for your bare trembling thigh, which made you jump, “It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you.”
“You don't have to be scared.”
Liar.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Another lie.
His gloved fingers trace the many goosebumps that adorned your thighs, obsessively caressesing you with his loving hands. It made your heart flutter. You hated it, yet it slowly soothed you, drawing a calm breath from you.
“There we go, just breathe.” He said as his gloved hand slowly started to move further up your thigh, “I won't hurt you if you just stay calm..”
“I want us to have a good time..” He said softly, tilting his head as he examined your drugged state.
Every inch of you was under inspection, the way your hands trembled, the shallow rise and fall of your breath. You felt dissected, flayed open under that quiet, merciless attention.
“I want to watch you..” He quietly whispered, your body trembled immensely, that invisible thread between his stare and your skin, tightening.
“I want to show you who you are, to peel back the layers you hide yourself under and show everyone who you truly are.”
Then you felt his body move away from you, slowly moving across the room, and you almost leaned towards the empty space. The feeling of nothing in front of you now felt so lonely. It frightened you.
You heard his slow and heavy breathing beneath that mask as you tried to wiggle from your restraints once more. You heard a dark chuckle from him, laughing at your pathetic attempts to free yourself from his tight restraints, he knew you wouldn't be able to do anything. You were trapped with him.
“Now let's begin..”
Then, you heard a slight beep that startled you.
“Action.”
He pressed, record.
You were being filmed. His eyes weren't the only thing watching your every move now. You heard him move closer to you, his gloved hands running through your soft hair as you winced in fear. He quietly chuckled at the way you jumped at any little touch, he loved how scared you were. He then gripped your chin gently, yet possessively, "I've always imagined you like this.” He muttered under his breath, “So helpless before me.”
He then slowly caressed your cold cheek, his gloved hands warming them up so much that you almost leaned into his touch.
“You're a virgin, aren't you?” He asked, but before you could even nod, he chuckled, “You don't even have to answer that, I already know the answer.”
Your bare body trembled beneath him, the suspense killing you. He was taking his time, filming the scene he's always wanted to film, with you.
“I'm going to change that.”
Your heart dropped, you immediately shook your head, your muffled protests making him smile. “You don't have to pretend for the camera, we all know you want this.” He said, his voice lowering as he gently touched your cold nipples, they hardened so easily under his touch.
Your breath hitched at the way he touched you, his touch tainting your body. You hated how good it felt, how comforting his warmth felt in this cold room, on the cold metal chair that made you shake violently.
You almost leaned into his touch as he kept touching you, his fingers twisting your nipples as he silently stood tall over you. He smiled beneath that mask again, loving the way you twitched and fought against your restraints and your own desires. He knew you wanted this, just as much as he did. And he was going to help you realize that.
“I’m going to take off the tape on your mouth,” he said, your mind immediately telling you to scream as soon as he does but your thoughts were interrupted with a warning, “but if you scream, it won't matter. Nobody can hear you down here, it's just us.”
Your heart stopped at his warning, even if you screamed, it didn't matter. No one was going to save you. And you were slowly starting to accept that.
You slowly nodded your head in defeat, which made him smile.
“Good girl.”
He then took the sticky tape off of your mouth, and you took a soft gasp of air as you felt the cold air hit your lips.
“Please..” You muttered under your cold breath, “Let me go.”
He heard your plea and softly shushed you, “I could never do that, not when I finally have you trapped under my grasp.”
Then he slowly took off his gloves, slowly moving his hand to your face again. He gently touched your lips, loving how soft they felt against his bare fingertips.
“I finally have the chance to do whatever I want to you, I'm not going to throw that chance away so easily.”
His voice was so low, yet so gentle as he desired you. It made you sick, and his touch deepened that sickness. Your lips were cold and chapped, yet the texture felt nice under his fingertips.
“Open your mouth.” He commanded. You hesitated, trembling as you didn't want to listen.
“I'm not going to say it again.” His threatening words forced you to open your mouth for him. As soon as you opened your mouth, he slowly entered two of his fingers, your warm mouth welcoming them.
Josh groaned at the feeling of your mouth, shoving his fingers deeper until he felt your throat and the way it convulsed around his fingertips. He darkly smiled beneath his mask as he heard you gag, and gasp so helplessly. Yet he kept violating your mouth, loving how lewd it looked.
He gripped your hair with the other hand, forcing your face towards the camera as he took pleasure in violating your throat with his fingers.
It felt so filthy—so violating to have these strangers fingers down your throat. Yet you couldn't deny the wetness you felt forming beneath you, you felt shameful for it.
He smiled as he looked down between your legs, “You're enjoying this.” He then moved his leg in between yours, forcing you to open your legs apart as he pressed his jeans against your drenched cunt.
Josh immediately felt your wetness, and laughed, “God, you're so fucking disgusting.”
You immediately felt stupid for enjoying it, and felt embarrassed that he caught you for it. The camera recording your shameful arousal only made your cheeks more flushed in the cold room.
You whimpered around his fingers that were deep down your throat, you've never felt more pathetic in your life. You struggled to take it, and it made you even more aroused.
The way his jeans felt against your drenched cunt made you squirm in your seat, “So pathetic..” He degraded you, making you even more wet.
“Let's see how pathetic you can get for me.”
You then gasp as he abruptly takes his fingers out of your throat—the saliva strings connecting you two still. The remainder of your saliva fell onto your chin as he moved his fingers to the zipper on his pants.
You gulped at the sound of his zipper, your mouth overfilling with your own saliva as you silently desired for your mouth to be filled once again. You couldn't see anything, yet you could hear him groan as he stroked his cock. It excited you, yet it also made you nervous.
Josh smiled at the way you nervously twitched in your seat, the way you softly whimpered as the saliva strings fell from your mouth made him extremely aroused. You had no idea how desirable you looked like this, he wanted to devour you and show the world just how pathetic you can be, just for him.
“Open your mouth wide for me.”
You hesitated for a second, whimpering at the thought of his cock down your throat. This man, who you didn't know the identity of, taking advantage of your helpless and drugged state. It should have made you repulsed and yet you were fighting the urge to open your mouth.
Your hesitation made him grow impatient, slowly inching the tip of his cock towards your closed whimpering mouth, “Turn off your thoughts and just let me use you.”
His words were almost convincing, “I'll take care of you,” He said as he gently held the back of your head, inching your lips closer to his cock, “just look pretty for the camera, okay?”
You don't know what took over you, maybe it was the drugs he stuffed you with, but you felt a wave of submissiveness with that, ‘okay?’ You softly nodded, whimpering and opening your mouth wide for him.
“That's my pornstar.”
As soon as you opened your mouth wide for him, he slowly thrusted his big tip into your warm and welcoming mouth. He immediately groaned at the feeling of your soft and wet tongue, it made him feel so good.
As his cock filled your mouth, you felt yourself opening your mouth wider, trying your best to take it all in. It was a struggle, you didn't think he'd be this big, and you'd never done this before. It was humiliating, especially in front of the camera.
“You’re doing such a good job for me.”
He loved how you struggled to take his cock, loving the way you tried your best to open your mouth as wide as you could for him. He continued to thrust into your trusting mouth, slowly yet possessively claiming your throat. Your soft whimpers and gags vibrating around his cock only drove him more sick with love for you, he wanted nothing more than to claim your body, and that's what he was going to do. It was always all for you.
“I've always imagined you like this.” He said as he continued to thrust into your mouth, deeper and deeper as he chased his own pleasure.
“I’ve been watching you for such a long time.” Those words made your heart skip a beat.
“You have no idea how many times I've broken into your home,” Your heart couldn't stop thumping, it felt as if a trapped bird was breaking itself as it tried to escape your ribcage, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. “and stood over your sleeping body..”
“It took me so long to plan this.” He said as he gripped your hair tighter, dangerously tighter.
Your heart started to beat louder, and louder.
“It took so long to plan the party, the movie marathon, the editing of all of the footage I had of you, and the candles. So many candles.”
Your heart stopped.
No.
It couldn't be—
Your body froze at his words. And he noticed. And he laughed. A laugh that sounded too familiar. Then it finally clicked.
Josh.
Josh fucking Washington.
“It took you this long to figure it out?” He taunted, it made your body weak. You felt so fucking stupid.
It was Josh this whole time.
“I thought I made it too obvious at first, especially with the chase scene,” He said as his violation continued, “but fuck, I guess not.”
You shook your head pathetically, gagging more around his cock as you began to shake at the thought of Josh, your friend, being the one that was violating you and keeping you hostage. He planned all of this, he had been the one watching you, and you should have known.
His gaze. It was always on you. Always violating you.
Always devouring you.
And now you can feel it, more than ever.
“This has always been for you.” He said, smiling beneath his mask, “Everything has.”
“Now stay still, my pornstar. The film isn't over yet.”
Pairing: Josh Washington x afab!reader
Spoilers for the game Until Dawn!
Warnings: MDNI /// Psychological Horror // Quite smutty (Josh is a bit rough) // Josh is a bit creepy at parts // Blood, some gore // Swearing // Mentions of Death and Loss // Trauma and Survivor's Guilt //Mental Illness // The word “crazy” is used in this story purely to aid the narrative in depicting Josh’s mental breakdown. I do not agree with this terminology.
Summary: Josh and you have always been too shy to recognize the connection between you. Just as you finally start to explore what might be, the mysterious disappearance of his sisters forces everything to a halt. A year later, he invites you and his friends back to the old lodge to relive the past and maybe, this time, you’ll find the courage to finally confess your feelings for Josh.
Words: 19.3k (Buckle up lol)
A/N: Please note the events in this fic do not exactly add up with the canon gameplay! I finally got to play the remastered version of Until Dawn, and I have fallen back down into the rabbit hole. I am so happy to see the fandom is still going strong. This is the longest fic I've ever written, and I'm exhausted. I don’t know how people do it lol.
The weight of your bag dug into your shoulder with every step, a dull ache that had been growing since the base of the trail. The icy air bit at your cheeks, turning your breath to mist as you trudged through the thinning woods. Just when your patience began to wear thin, the silhouette of the old cable car station finally emerged through the trees, weathered, silent, and waiting.
You scanned the clearing, half-hoping to spot a familiar face, but it was empty. The silence pressed in around you, broken only by the crunch of snow beneath your boots. You pulled out your phone for the fifth or sixth time, still no signal. A part of you knew it was a long shot, but you'd held onto the hope that someone else might be running late too. Maybe Mike or Sam.
The cable car sat still on its track, slightly tilted, like it hadn’t been used in years. Rust clung to its metal joints, flaking off in orange smears. You grabbed the handle and pulled. The door groaned open with a reluctant squeal. You tossed your bag inside and followed, the cold metal floor shuddering under your weight.
With a mechanical jolt, the cable car lurched into motion, the squeal of the pulley system echoing off the mountainside as it dragged you higher and higher into the snow-covered peaks. Inside, it was barely warmer. You rubbed your hands together and slumped into the cracked seat, pulling your phone out again to distract yourself from the groaning of the cables and the increasingly distant ground below. No bars.
You flicked through apps aimlessly, your thumb eventually wandering back to your messages. There, buried near the top, was one from Josh. You tapped it.
“Hey ______, I’m planning a weekend up at the lodge. I want it to be just like old times. Snow, booze and some questionable decisions. I really hope you can make it. Wouldn’t feel right without you. You in? :)”
You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering. He never said it outright, but all of you knew what the date meant. Almost a year to the day since the night Hannah and Beth disappeared into the snow. Maybe Josh just wanted to feel close to them again or this was his way of honouring them.
The cable car jolted with a loud metallic screech, making your phone slip from your hands and clatter to the floor. You blinked, pulled out of your thoughts, and looked up just in time to see the platform ahead. The car had reached the top. Letting out a breath, you grabbed your bag and jumped out, glad to be done with the rattling machine.
You glanced around, but the area was still empty. No sign of your friends. The snow-covered path ahead stretched into the trees, quiet and undisturbed. Your eyes landed on the numerous footprints. Several of them trailed off into the woods, a good sign that the others hadn’t gone far. You rubbed your arms against the cold, then started walking, following the trail.
The air was still, but every few steps a sound from the forest made your ears perk up. Twigs cracked, branches shifted, and even though you kept telling yourself it was probably just the wind or small animals, your head kept turning toward the noise. You shook it off and kept going, focusing on the prints ahead, trying not to let your imagination get the better of you.
The snow crunched steadily beneath your boots as you followed the trail, head down, breath fogging in the cold. The forest around you was still unnervingly quiet except for the occasional creak of trees shifting under the weight of snow. You kept walking, trying not to think too hard, trying not to look too long into the thick shadows between the trunks.
Then you heard it.
A sound sharp, high, and fast cut through the air. Not a scream exactly, but not an animal either. Something in between. It echoed once, then vanished. Your footsteps stopped. The woods suddenly felt heavier. You stood still for a second, listening. Then another sound, deeper this time. A scraping? No, more like something dragging across bark. It came from up ahead, off the trail and into the thicker trees.
You turned slowly toward it, brow furrowed, trying to spot the source through the branches. Your heartbeat picked up as you took a cautious step forward.
Then -
Warm hands suddenly settled on your shoulders.
You flinched hard, letting out a scream. You spun around, gasping and there was Josh, grinning, too close, his eyes crinkled with mischief.
“Woah, easy,” he said, laughing softly. “Just me.”
“Jesus, Josh!” you snapped, hand clutching your chest. “You scared the hell out of me.”
He broke into full laughter at your reaction, clearly proud of himself. That only made it worse.
Fuming, you shoved at his chest, hard. “Asshole.”
He barely moved, like he was planted there. “Wow,” he said, grinning. “Is that all you’ve got?”
You scowled, but there was a flicker of a smile tugging at the edge of your mouth.
“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he said, utterly unapologetic. “You had that little forehead-crinkle thing going. It was too tempting.”
Your breath was still catching up with your heart. “I thought you were-” You glanced back toward the trees, then shook your head. “Never mind. Did you hear that noise?”
Josh didn’t answer right away. His smile faltered, just slightly. His hands, still gently resting on your arms, gave a light squeeze.
“Woods are creepy this time of year,” he said after a beat, tone light but not entirely convincing. “They whisper. Crack. Groan. Just nature doing its spooky thing.”
You looked up at him. He was obviously teasing you attempting to scare you. He was watching you carefully, the humour softening in his eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, more gently now. “You seemed… off.”
You opened your mouth to reply but stopped. The wind blew snow down through the trees like falling ash. For a second, everything felt far away.
“I’m fine,” you said quietly. “You just surprised me.”
Josh stepped a little closer, his voice dropping to something softer. “Come on, it’s freezing out here.”
Without needing to ask, he slipped the strap of your bag off your shoulder and swung it onto his own back with ease. You let him. As the two of you started walking, the tension slowly gave way to quiet conversation, light small talk, nothing heavy. It was almost comfortable.
Then a question crept into your mind.
“What were you doing out here, anyway?” you asked, eyeing him. “You weren’t even on the trail.”
Josh shot you a crooked grin. “I was coming down to get you. You were the last to arrive. As usual.”He bumped your shoulder playfully, and you rolled your eyes.
“And you knew I’d arrived?” You raised a brow at him.
Josh grinned to himself like he’d been caught. “Not exactly. I was on my way down to wait at the cable car. Figured you’d show up sooner or later.”
You let out a short laugh. “And stand around in sub-zero temps just in case I showed up?”
“Obviously,” he said, tone casual. “Couldn’t have you walking up here alone.”
The simple answer hit harder than you expected. That quiet thoughtfulness buried beneath his usual sarcasm tugged at something in your chest. You hadn’t expected anyone to meet you, especially not him.
You glanced sideways at him, but he was looking straight ahead now, snow crunching beneath his boots like it didn’t mean anything.
You weren’t really sure what was happening between you and Josh anymore. You hadn’t spoken since the incident. Even before that, things had been... blurry. Pulled apart by time, distance, and whatever it was Josh was going through.
Your vision finally caught the outline of the lodge, rising like a shadowy monument through the trees. Relief bloomed in your chest. The idea of a warm fire, and maybe a beer or two, was already making you feel warmer.
As you and Josh approached the door, he moved ahead to open it. But instead of letting you in, he stopped, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the doorframe, his body angled to block your way.
“Josh,” you groaned, crossing your arms. The cold was slicing through your coat. “Seriously? We’re gonna freeze to death out here.”
Josh laughed at your dramatic pout, eyes lighting up.
He laughed at your dramatic pout, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Still cute when you whine,” he muttered, mostly to himself. His words caused your checks to flush at the flashbacks of him and you appeared in your mind. You rolled your eyes in an attempt to still appear annoyed at him.
“I know, I know,” he said louder, glancing back at you. “I just… wanted to say something before we go in.”
You blinked. The cold stung your face, but you stayed still. He hesitated, his expression softening. His voice dipped, more serious.
“Before we go in, I wanted to say something. I want tonight to be… good. I want everyone to have fun. And I don’t want you here because you feel bad for me.”
You opened your mouth to object, but he held up a hand, gently cutting you off.
“I mean it. I want tonight to feel normal. No grief. Just dumb jokes and too much alcohol and, I don’t know, something that feels like before.”
He looked at you then, really looked. And despite the grin tugging at his lips, there was something earnest behind his eyes. Something fragile.
“I’m really glad you came,” he added quietly.
Your heart tugged. You reached out and rested a hand on his arm, smiling up at him.
“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” you said. “But Josh, you don’t have to pretend everything’s fine. We’re here because we care. Not out of pity.”
He nodded, looking down at his feet like he needed a second to gather himself. Then he laughed softly, shaking off the moment.
“Okay, okay emotional speech over. Get inside before you turn into a popsicle.”
You grinned. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not letting me freeze my ass off.”
You both laughed as he opened the door, warm air rushing out to greet you. The sound of voices and music echoed through the lodge, familiar and alive. The past might’ve still hung in the corners of the place but for now, for just this night, it could wait.
Hours had passed since you’d arrived with Josh. After the hugs, the “I missed yous,” and the shared glances that said more than words, everyone slowly settled into the lodge. To your surprise, the mood was light. Surprisingly light. Josh had dragged up two crates of beer from the basement to a round of cheers, and now your group was circled around the fire he’d built, basking in warmth and buzz.
You’d lost count of how many beers had been passed around. Mike was deep into a ridiculous story about catching Matt and Emily making out last summer, complete with dramatic reenactments, and the group was in stitches. The alcohol gave you that warm, floating feeling, but even without it, you felt strangely at ease.
Josh’s arm had somehow ended up draped over your shoulders. You weren’t sure when it happened. You hadn’t pulled away. Every so often, you caught him looking at you out of the corner of your eye and when you glanced back, he’d already be looking somewhere else, as if he hadn’t been staring at all. Still, you couldn’t help the stupid smile on your face. You felt like some lovesick schoolgirl with the dumb grin on your face.
While Mike kept rambling, Sam stood up from the couch and stretched.
“Well, my beer bottle’s officially a graveyard,” she said. “I’m going to grab more from the basement.”
You sat up, finishing the last sip of your own drink and blinking at the sudden wave of dizziness.
“Me too,” you said, standing a little too fast. “I’ll come with.”
Your balance shifted, the alcohol tugging you briefly back toward the couch, but you caught yourself and laughed.
“Perfect,” Sam said, falling into step beside you. “Let’s go.”
As the two of you started toward the basement door, Josh’s voice rang out behind you.
“Careful down there, ladies,” he called with a mock-warning tone. “It’s dark. Creepy. A perfect setting for a horror movie.”
You both rolled your eyes.
“Thanks for the PSA, Josh,” Sam said over her shoulder, smirking.
You pulled the basement door open. A cold draft met you, rising up from the shadows below. The stairwell was nearly pitch black. You and Sam exchanged a glance, the kind that didn’t need words. You both pulled out your phones, switching on the flashlights. Narrow beams of white light cut through the darkness as you made your way down, step by creaking step.
“Josh seems in a good mood,” Sam said as you both carefully descended the creaky steps.
You nodded. “Yeah. Honestly? Better than I expected. I thought coming back here would bring everything back.”
It was the first time all night someone had acknowledged it; what happened last year.
“I’m sure he knows it was a horrible accident,” Sam said quietly.
You didn’t answer right away. Another silent understanding passed between you. Neither of you had been involved in the prank. You weren’t there when it happened. But you’d heard the stories, how it spiralled out of control, how no one had stopped it. Whether it was an accident or not, it had still been cruel.
You reached the shelves stacked with beer crates. The cold was more biting down here. Sam turned toward you, voice low and hesitant.
“I know we’re not supposed to bring it up,” she said, “but… I never asked. What were you doing? When it all happened?”
You bent down, grabbed a crate, and handed it to her. It was heavier than you remembered. No wonder Josh had impressed everyone by carrying two at once. No wonder you’d always thought he had some kind of quiet strength about him. You picked up another for yourself, using the moment to stall.
“God, it feels like forever ago,” you said, stalling again.
But the truth was, you remembered everything.
You remembered the cupboard in the Washingtons’ lodge stocked full of booze like some teenage dream. At some point that night, you and Josh had ended up alone. You weren’t exactly sure how it happened. You had your suspicions. Your friends had been nudging you two toward each other all evening, not so subtly.
You reached in and pulled out a half-full bottle of vodka, started pouring shots for the two of you while Josh wandered over to the stereo and flicked it on. Music thumped through the room, heavy on bass, the kind that made your bones buzz.
You were already drunk. Not tipsy, very much drunk. The kind where your vision smudged at the edges and your limbs felt like they belonged to someone else. But it didn’t stop you. You grabbed the two shot glasses, wobbling slightly as you made your way toward him, doing a half-dance, half-strut to the music.
Josh laughed at your theatrics, his smile soft and genuinely amused. “God, you’re ridiculous,” he said, taking a glass from your hand.
You stuck your tongue out at him and handed him his shot.
He raised the glass to the ceiling with mock ceremony.
“To the best night ever.”
You giggled, hiccupped, and clinked your glass to his before downing the vodka in one go. The burn lit a fire down your throat that you welcomed. The beat of the music sank into your skin. You started swaying, hips rolling in slow rhythm. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Josh watching you. Not pretending. Not even trying to hide it. His gaze moved from your face to your hips, back up. Blatant. Drunk. Honest.
“See something you like, Joshy?” you teased, arching a brow.
He stepped closer, playing along. “Just admiring your insane, once-in-a-generation dance moves.”
You laughed, loud and free. Then, bold with liquor, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. His fingers flexed instantly, tightening just a little. You felt them hook into the belt loops of your jeans, grounding you in place. Your hands slid up around his neck, pulling him closer until there was barely any space between you.
“You know,” you said, one hand toying with the soft hair at the back of his neck, “you’re kind of handsome when you’re drunk.”
Josh leaned in slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Just when I’m drunk?”
You smirked at Josh’s answer, your fingers still lightly playing with the curls at the back of his neck.
“I mean, you’ve always been handsome,” you admitted, eyes glinting. “But maybe the vodka is helping me say it out loud.”
Josh’s hands flexed a little more at your hips, his thumbs brushing slow, deliberate circles over the denim. His eyes stayed on you, not darting away this time, not joking it off.
“So you have been thinking about me,” he said, his tone that perfect mix of teasing and just a little vulnerable. “Kinda wish I knew that before I spent the whole summer convincing myself you hated me.”
You laughed softly, the warmth in your chest blooming outward. “I don’t hate you, Josh. I just didn’t know if you were serious.”
He tilted his head slightly. “About what?”
“Me.”
That answer seemed to hit him right in the chest. His expression changed, still smiling, but quieter now, a little more careful.
“You’re kind of hard not to be serious about,” he bluntly stated.
You blinked up at him, caught off guard.
Josh must’ve felt it too, because for once, he didn’t follow the moment with a joke or a grin. He just stood there, his eyes on you, and you saw something there that hadn’t been in his voice before, something raw, almost uncertain.
Your hand, still curled in the fabric of his shirt, tensed slightly. You weren’t drunk enough to miss what that meant.
“You really mean that?” you asked, your voice barely audible above the low hum of the stereo.
Josh swallowed. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”
Silence stretched for a beat, just the music thudding softly in the background and the sound of both your breaths. Your heart kicked up in your chest. Your fingers slipped from his shirt to his jaw before you could think twice, tracing just beneath his cheekbone.
He didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned into the touch.
His hands were still at your hips, not teasing now but steady. Grounded. His forehead came to rest against yours, eyes fluttering shut for a second like he didn’t want to say the next part but couldn’t stop himself.
“I think I’ve always meant it.”
The tension curled between you, no longer playful. It was charged now. Real. You felt the heat of his body, the closeness of his breath, the weight of everything that hadn’t been said in the months you’d spent dancing around this.
“I didn’t know,” you whispered. “I thought maybe it was just messing around. For you.”
Josh shook his head, just barely. “Not with you.”
Your noses brushed, not quite a kiss.
Your breath caught in your throat.
Josh’s forehead still rested against yours, his hands unmoving, like he didn’t dare risk breaking the moment. His eyes flicked open, searching yours, silently asking a question he’d never spoken out loud.
You didn’t answer with words.
Instead, you leaned in just a fraction. Your lips brushed his once, testing, soft. And then again, firmer this time, like you both realized at the same time that there was no going back.
Josh kissed you like he’d been holding his breath for a year. His hands tightened at your waist, pulling you closer, and you rose onto your toes, arms curling around his shoulders. The music blurred out, the warmth of the vodka forgotten. All you felt was him and his mouth on yours, the way he tasted like liquor and something sharp underneath it.
His fingers moved slow and tentative at first. Sliding under the hem of your shirt just enough for his thumbs to brush the bare skin at your waist. Warm and steady. Possessive in the gentlest way. You shivered under his touch, not from cold but from the sudden awareness of every place your bodies touched.
Then he whispered it soft, like it wasn’t meant to be heard, his lips still barely parted from yours.
“You don’t know what you’ve been doing to me.”
You stilled for a moment, heart thudding.
He kissed you again before you could reply, slower now. Not just urgent, but tender, like he was memorizing it. Like he didn’t want to risk forgetting what it felt like. One of his hands slid up your spine, fingertips grazing each ridge of your back, pausing between your shoulder blades like he could hold you there forever.
Your breath hitched as his mouth found the corner of your lips, your jaw, the slope of your neck then returned to your mouth, almost desperately.
You kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers tangling in his hair now, your balance swaying. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the heat of him pressed to you or both, but you didn’t care. Not when he was kissing you like he meant it. Like he’d never stopped thinking about it. Like he never wanted it to end.
When you finally broke apart, you stayed close his forehead pressed to yours again, both of you smiling without quite meaning to.
Josh exhaled a breathy laugh. “Wow. Okay.”
“Yeah,” you said, breathless. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
“And I didn’t even have to dance for it,” he joked, the smirk back but softer now.
You grinned. “Don’t get cocky. That was a charity kiss.”
“Right,” he said, nodding solemnly. “Absolutely. No personal satisfaction here at all.”
But he still didn’t let go of you.
You finally shook your head, trying to clear the fog of the moment, and glanced over at Sam.
“I was just hanging out with Josh and we kind of passed out,” you said, raising your eyebrows.
Sam smirked and gave you a knowing look. “Uh-huh. ‘Passed out,’ sure. Sounds legit.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling.
Sam laughed softly. “Sure. Just don’t start ‘passing out’ on me every time we need more beer.”
As you and Sam began making your way back toward the basement stairs, a sudden loud bang echoed through the concrete walls, sharp and jarring. You both froze in place, the sound slicing through the air like a crack of thunder.
Your heart jumped into your throat as you spun around, your phone’s flashlight barely piercing the thick darkness that swallowed the far end of the hallway.
Something moved.
A metallic clatter followed. A tin can, rolling slowly across the floor, its hollow rattle unnervingly loud in the silence that followed.
You and Sam instinctively stepped closer together. Your light caught just enough to see the can spin to a stop then nothing. Just black.
You felt it almost immediately, the drop in temperature, the way the air seemed to press in tighter around your skin. Your breath came out in a visible puff, and goosebumps prickled your arms despite your jacket.
Sam shifted beside you, her voice a whisper. “We should check it out, right?”
You hesitated. Every nerve in your body screamed to turn around and go back upstairs. However, curiosity, or maybe something deeper, rooted you in place.
Wordlessly, you both began inching down the hallway. Your flashlights shook slightly in your hands, casting long, twitching shadows along the walls. The silence was thick, broken only by the soft sound of your footsteps against the cold concrete.
The hallway seemed longer now, like it stretched out with every step. The air grew heavier, pressing against your lungs, and the flickering overhead bulb near the back door offered no comfort, only more shadows.
Just before you reached the rough wooden door at the very end, splintered, old, and slightly ajar. A sudden creak echoed from behind it, like something shifting just out of view.
You and Sam froze again.
Sam reached out, hand just barely brushing the door handle when—
“Hey!”
Both of you jumped nearly out of your skin as Josh’s voice rang out sharply from behind you.
You spun around to see him standing at the top of the basement stairs, bathed in faint light from above. His expression was tight, unreadable, but his voice was firm.
“You two forget how stairs work or something?” he asked, tone light but with an edge. “Come on seriously. That part of the basement’s off-limits.”
You started to protest, “We heard—”
“I know,” Josh interrupted quickly, already descending a few steps. “This place is old, okay? Pipes bang. Stuff falls. It’s nothing.”
You weren’t convinced. His tone was calm, but his eyes darted once, past you toward the door at the end of the hall.
“Come on,” he repeated, this time with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t leave me alone with Mike. He’s started doing impressions of everyone and it’s getting scary.”
You and Sam exchanged a look, unsettled but unsure. Still, you turned, following Josh back up the stairs. Behind you, the wooden door gave one final creaking groan.
Another couple of hours had passed, and the alcohol showed no signs of slowing down. Whatever buzz you'd started the night with had bloomed into full-on drunken joy. Everything felt lighter, funnier, louder. Even breathing felt easier.
Music thumped from the old stereo, something familiar with just enough bass to shake the floorboards. Someone had turned off most of the lights, leaving only the fire crackling and a few warm lamps casting a golden haze over the room.
Half the group was already passed out in corners or curled up under throw blankets, empty bottles littering the coffee table. A couple of your friends were making out shamelessly on the couch like it was freshman year all over again.
You leaned against the wooden beam by the fireplace. For the first time in what felt like forever, the house was full of laughter instead of tension. No whispered concerns, no heavy silences. Just friends being friends. You smiled, quietly to yourself, and scanned the room.
Then your eyes landed on Josh.
He was sitting in one of the armchairs across the room, slouched deep into the cushions with a half-empty bottle dangling from his fingers. He wasn’t talking. Wasn’t laughing. He was watching.
Specifically watching you.
Your smile faltered just a little, not gone but thinned. You met his gaze across the chaos, the noise, the glow of firelight.
He didn’t look away.
Something about the way he was staring made your skin prickle. Like he wasn’t with everyone else in the room. Like, somehow, he was somewhere else entirely and just wearing the mask of this moment.
But then he blinked, and the look was gone. A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. He raised his bottle in a lazy toast just for you.
You smiled at him lifted your drink back at him with a small nod, unsure whether you were reassuring him or yourself.
The moment stretched, a beat too long, like the world had held its breath just for the two of you. The fire crackled again, snapping you out of it, and the sounds of your friends filtered back in, someone giggling in the kitchen, a chorus of half-drunken lyrics from the hallway where someone had revived karaoke.
You took a sip of your drink, the taste less sharp now, more like melted courage. Josh was still watching, but the smile on his face softened. Less strange. He looked tired, maybe. But in a way that made him seem honest, stripped of whatever front he normally carried.
You pushed off the beam, feeling the pleasant weight of your buzz in your limbs as you crossed the room. When you reached him, he tilted his head up lazily, still reclined in that deep chair.
“You’re quiet,” you said, standing just close enough to see the pink flush of alcohol on his cheeks.
Josh shrugged one shoulder. “I like watching people when they’re happy.”
“That’s creepy.”
He grinned. “Only when you say it like that.”
You rolled your eyes, but it tugged a smile out of you. He patted the arm of the chair in silent invitation. After a moment’s hesitation, you sat, perched on the armrest, your thigh brushing his shoulder.
His hand rose, like he might reach for your knee but thought better of it. His fingers hovered for a second before dropping again.
“I just… I like this,” he said softly. “Being here. With you. With everyone. It feels like something real, you know?”
You nodded, though something about his tone had shifted again. Quieter. Almost reverent. And behind that easy smile was something you couldn’t quite name, longing, maybe. Or maybe it was regret.
Your voice came gentler. “You okay?”
Josh looked up at you then, and for a second, the grin vanished. “You ever get the feeling that the best nights, the really good ones, always feel a little haunted?”
You frowned. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head like he wasn’t sure either. “Like it’s too good.”
You stared at him. The firelight made shadows dance across his face. You weren’t sure if the chill that crept up your spine was from his words or the thought that Josh saw something coming that the rest of you didn’t.
Before you could ask anything more, he leaned forward slightly, voice dipping low, almost conspiratorial.
“But hey,” he said with a crooked smile, “if the world ends tonight, at least we got a hell of a send-off.”
He clinked his bottle softly against yours.
You tilted your bottle to meet his, the clink ringing faint and strange, like it echoed through something deeper than just the room. You tried to laugh it off, but the weight of his gaze lingered, and so did that feeling, like you were standing too close to something you didn’t fully understand.
Josh was still watching you, his smile quieter now. More knowing.
“You’ve got that look again,” you said, aiming for playful. “Like you’re about to say something stupid and poetic.”
His smile deepened. “Maybe I am.”
He shifted in the chair, his hand brushing your thigh lightly as he moved. Just enough to feel it, to notice he didn’t pull away. His fingers lingered there, warm through the fabric of your jeans, like a question he hadn’t asked out loud. Your heart gave a tiny, inconvenient lurch.
“You’re drunk,” you said, but your voice was soft, not scolding.
He raised an eyebrow. “A little. But not enough to make this up.”
There was a long pause. The fire cracked. Somewhere behind you, someone shouted out the wrong lyrics to whatever song was playing.
Then, deliberately, Josh turned his body toward you. One hand slid up, slow and sure, resting lightly on your waist. His thumb brushed a slow arc just above your hip.
“You’ve been in my head all night,” he murmured. “Hell, longer than that.”
You swallowed, your drink suddenly forgotten in your hand. “Josh…”
“If I’m wrong, tell me.” His voice was low, the kind that made your skin hum. “But don’t lie.”
His other hand came up, knuckles grazing your jaw, then your cheek. His fingers tucked a piece of hair behind your ear like it was the most important thing he’d ever done. You leaned into the touch before you could stop yourself.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.
But you didn’t. Couldn’t.
Instead, you looked at him and saw all the things he wasn’t saying. The vulnerability hiding behind the grin. The way he was holding back, just barely, waiting for your answer.
So you didn’t answer.
You leaned down slowly, heart hammering as your forehead pressed gently to his. He closed his eyes like that one small gesture undid him.
And then, he kissed you. It started careful, almost cautious, like he still thought you might pull away. But when you didn’t, when you kissed him back, your hand curling into the hair at the back of his neck, he deepened it with a hunger that surprised even him.
His hand tightened at your waist, the other sliding behind your neck, anchoring you to him. He kissed like he was afraid this moment might vanish if he didn’t memorize every second of it. You gasped against his mouth, and he paused just long enough to breathe your name like a confession.
When you finally broke apart, the fire flickered low, casting soft, swaying shadows across the room. His lips lingered just above yours, breath warm, his gaze searching, quietly intense, like he didn’t want the moment to slip away.
You leaned in, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we go somewhere a little more private?”
Josh’s eyes lifted to meet yours. Those big brown eyes, wide and uncertain in the soft light. You could see the question written all over his face: Are you sure?
You nodded slowly, your fingers brushing gently along the edge of his jaw, your thumb tracing the faint curve of his cheek. “Yeah,” you murmured, giving him a soft smile. “I want to.”
A large grin slowly spread across Josh’s face, lighting up his features in the firelight. You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily his mood shifted at your words.
Before you knew it, he slid one arm under your legs and the other beneath your back, effortlessly lifting you out of the armchair.
You giggled, caught off guard by how strong he was as he carried you like you weighed nothing at all.
“Hey, put me down!” you teased breathlessly, but he only tightened his grip, chuckling softly.
Josh started walking toward the door, your laughter trailing behind him. Everyone else was too far gone in their own haze of alcohol and conversation to even notice.
Josh opened his bedroom door without once loosening his hold on you. Before you could even reach the bed, his lips found yours again, fierce and urgent. Pressed against the wall, your body suspended in his arms, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands framed you firmly on either side as you deepened the kiss.
Your hands clutched his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as the kiss deepened, electric and desperate. Josh’s breath hitched against your lips, and you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palms.
He pulled back just enough to murmur against your mouth, voice low and rough, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
Your heart hammered as his hands slid from the wall to your waist, gripping you tighter as if afraid you might disappear. Every inch of you burned with the need that matched his.
Josh guided you onto the bed with deliberate care, his hands cradling you as he lowered you into the softness of the sheets. His lips found yours first, slow and deep, before trailing down your neck in a series of lingering kisses. Each press of his mouth was deliberate, savoring the way your breath hitched as he found your sweet spots, sucking just enough to draw a shiver from you. A quiet moan escaped your lips as your head sank back into the pillow, surrendering to the warmth of his touch.
His hands slid beneath your shirt, the initial coolness of his fingers a sharp contrast to your heated skin but the chill quickly melted into pleasure as they traced slow, worshipful paths along your ribs. His palms rose higher, cupping the weight of your breasts with a reverence that made your back arch. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he felt how soft you were, how perfectly you fit against him. His fingers slipped beneath your bra, teasing in slow circles until your nipples peaked under his touch. You gasped, hips shifting restlessly as the sensation coiled deep in your stomach.
He didn’t rush. His mouth followed where his hands had been, kissing along the swell of your breast, his tongue flicking lightly before sucking just enough to make your fingers tangle in his hair. All the while, his hips pressed against yours in a slow, rhythmic grind, the hard length of him dragging against your core. You could feel how much he wanted you, the heat, the tension, and the ache between your thighs grew unbearable.
“Josh… please,” you whispered, voice trembling.
You felt the curve of his smirk against your skin before he finally pulled back, his darkened eyes locking onto yours as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your jeans. He took his time, peeling them down your legs with agonizing slowness, his fingertips grazing your inner thighs just to hear you whimper. When he finally had you bare before him, he paused, drinking in the sight of your soaked underwear, his breath ragged with want.
“You’re so pretty, _____,” he murmured, almost to himself, before leaning down to kiss the inside of your knee, his lips beginning a torturously slow ascent back up your body.
His mouth took its time, tracing a slow, worshipful path up your thighs, each kiss lingering like a whispered promise. When he finally reached your core, he paused, just to look, just to savour the sight of you, your damp underwear clinging to your heat. His breath ghosted over the fabric, warm and teasing, before he pressed a single, deliberate kiss against your clothed sex. The sensation was maddeningly light, just enough to draw a soft, needy moan from your lips.
You arched beneath him, fingers twisting into the sheets, impatience simmering beneath the pleasure. You wanted more, but Josh was in no hurry. He savoured you, his hands sliding beneath your hips as he hooked his fingers into the delicate lace of your underwear. He peeled them away with agonizing slowness, his lips brushing your inner thigh as he did. You barely even noticed when he tucked them into his back pocket, his little trophy, a secret he’d keep for later.
Then, without warning, he buried himself between your thighs, his mouth hot and open against you. The first slow, wet stroke of his tongue dragged a gasp from your chest, your back bowing off the bed. He groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine as he laved at your folds with deliberate, worshipful strokes. He took his time, tasting you, learning every sensitive curve before finally circling your clit with the tip of his tongue.
Your hands tangled in his hair, not to guide him, but to anchor yourself as pleasure rolled through you in thick, honeyed waves. The room was thick with the sound of his devotion, the slick, sinful noises of his mouth on you, the low hum of his satisfaction, the broken sighs spilling from your lips. He was relentless in his adoration, drinking you in like a man starved, yet every movement was controlled, every flick of his tongue designed to unravel you piece by piece.
“Josh” Your voice was a breathless plea, your thighs trembling around his head. “Please. I’m close.”
He answered with a deep, vibrating groan, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you steady. “I know, baby, I know” he murmured against you, his breath hot. “Let me feel it.”
And then he slowed down. Just to watch you squirm. Just to hear you whimper. Just to prove he could take his time, even as your orgasm coiled tight in your belly, even as your breath came in ragged, desperate gasps.
Then he surged back into you. Hungry, relentless, his mouth claiming you with the same feverish intensity as before. Your body arched, every nerve alight as pleasure crested, overwhelming, unbearable. You fisted your hands in Josh’s hair, pulling, pleading, but he didn’t relent. Even as your orgasm shattered through you, even as your thighs clamped around his head, your breath coming in broken, desperate cries, he refused to stop. His tongue dragged slow, deliberate circles, wringing out every last tremor, every aftershock, until you were writhing beneath him, oversensitive and shaking, his name a ragged gasp on your lips.
“Josh—ah!” Your voice was a broken whimper, your hips jerking away instinctively, but his grip on you was iron. He held you down, his tongue swirling slow, torturous circles around your clit, drawing out the pleasure until it hurt, until every nerve was alight with sensation.
You gasped, your back arching, your hands pushing weakly at his shoulders. “Too much—fuck, please, I can’t—”
He only hummed against you, the vibration wringing another choked moan from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you spread open for him as he dragged his tongue through your folds one more time, slow and deliberate, savouring the way your body shuddered in response.
“You taste so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with want.
You barely had time to protest before his mouth was on you again, his tongue flicking over your clit in quick, teasing strokes, coaxing another wave of pleasure from your oversensitive body. Your breath came in ragged sobs.
“No—no, I can’t—” You twisted beneath him, but he held you firm, his lips sealing around your clit, sucking gently just as your climax hit. The pleasure was sharp, almost painful in its intensity, your entire body tensing as you came with a broken cry. His tongue worked you through it, gentler now but unyielding, until you were whimpering, your hands fisting in the sheets, your voice a hoarse plea.
“Josh, please” Your voice cracked. “I can’t take anymore.”
Finally, he pulled back, pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh before lifting his head. His lips were glistening, his breathing uneven, his gaze dark with satisfaction as he took in the sight of you trembling and utterly ruined.
“Fuck,” he breathed, dragging his thumb over your swollen flesh, just to hear you whine. “Look at you.”
You could only gasp, your body still pulsing with aftershocks, your mind hazy with pleasure. And when he leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, you melted into him completely and helplessly his.
Josh let you catch your breath, his fingers working the buckle of his belt, the slow drag of denim down his hips deliberate, maddening. He caged you in, palms pressing into the mattress beside your head, his gaze tracing your face, flushed, dazed, still trembling from his mouth. You smiled up at him, drunk on pleasure, and reached to push his hair back, your fingers lingering against his temple.
"If it hurts." His voice roughened, a sudden gravity cutting through the haze between you. "You tell me. Immediately."
You nodded, biting your lip at the way his concern twisted something warm in your chest.
"Say it." His eyes locked onto yours, unyielding.
A shiver raced down your spine. You swallowed, throat tight with want. "I want you."
His mouth brushed yours, teasing. "To what?"
The words spilled out in a breathless rush, "I want you inside me. Now."
A low groan escaped him, his forehead dropping to yours. "Fuck, you’re perfect."
He pushed into you slowly, each inch a deliberate surrender. His gaze never left your face, drinking in every flicker of pleasure, every sharp inhale as he filled you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a heartbeat, your body stretching to accommodate him, a silent gasp catching in your throat. He groaned, a rough, reverent curse as he sank deeper, your warmth slick and tight around him. God, you were perfect, clenching just for him. He knew it then, with every ragged breath you shared; you were made for him.
He held there for a moment, buried deep, letting you both savour the way you fit together. Then, with a low groan, he began to move. Gentle at first, rolling his hips in slow, deliberate strokes, his hands gripping your thighs like he was afraid you’d vanish. But the tension between you was too much, the need too sharp.
His pace quickened, each thrust driving deeper, rougher, until the room filled with the sound of skin against skin, your breathless moans, his ragged curses. "Fuck, you feel—" His voice was wrecked, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you harder against him. "So goddamn perfect. So tight, so fucking sweet."
You arched beneath him, nails scraping down his back, and he growled, his rhythm turning desperate. "Thought about this," he panted, "every night. How you’d look under me. How you’d sound." His thumb brushed your cheek, his eyes dark, possessive. "You’re even better than I dreamed."
And then he was losing control completely, his thrusts turning erratic, his mouth crashing onto yours in a kiss that tasted like sweat and sin. He didn’t slow down, didn’t stop not until you were both trembling on the edge, pleasure coiling too tight to bear.
He didn’t let up. If anything, he drove into you harder, deeper, his grip on your hips ironclad as he pinned you beneath him. Every snap of his pelvis sent a shockwave through you, the slap of skin echoing like a drumbeat, relentless. You gasped his name, broken, pleading, but he only growled in response, his voice gravel and flame.
“Tell me,” He demanded, fingers pressing into your flesh. “Does it feel good? Fuck, tell me how much you love it.”
You could barely form words, your moans fracturing with each punishing thrust. He didn’t wait for an answer, just swore under his breath and pushed you further back into the bed, his mouth searing a path down your throat. “Yeah, you do,” he rasped, teeth scraping your pulse point. “Can feel how bad you need it. How fucking perfect you take me.”
His rhythm turned brutal, primal, the bedframe slamming against the wall as he chased his own release, dragging you with him. You clawed at his shoulders, his name a sob on your lips, and he groaned like the sound wrecked him. “That’s it—come on ______, let go. Wanna feel you come apart on me. I’ll take care of you.”
At his words you were coming apart, your spine arching like a snapped bow, a scream ripping from your throat as pleasure split you open, white-hot and brutal. His name wasn’t a prayer anymore, it was a filthy, shattered demand, raw as the fingers digging bruises into your hips, holding you down as you thrashed beneath him.
He fucked you through it, relentless, his own release slamming into him like a punch. A guttural groan tore from his chest as he buried himself to the hilt, pumping his cum so deep inside you that you felt it claiming you. His forehead dropped to yours, panting, your sweat and his mingling, the air between you sticky with sex and sin.
For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.
The bed was a wreck of tangled sheets and the heavy scent of sex, but neither of you moved to fix it. He had rolled onto his back beside you, one arm draped over his forehead, his chest rising and falling in slow, satiated rhythm. The heat between you had settled into something quiet, something tender.
You turned your head to look at him, the sharp line of his jaw, the sweat-damp hair at his temples, the way his lips were still slightly parted as he caught his breath. As if sensing your gaze, he shifted, turning onto his side to face you. His fingers found your hip, tracing absent circles there, feather-light compared to the bruising grip he’d had on you earlier.
"Come here," he murmured, voice rough but warm. He didn’t pull, just waited, leaving the choice to you.
You shifted closer, and his arm curled around you, drawing you in until your head rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady under your ear, strong and sure. His other hand brushed your hair back from your face, tucking a loose strand behind your ear before his fingers trailed down your shoulder, your arm, as if relearning you in the stillness.
"You’re shaking," he said softly.
You hadn’t even noticed, just the faint tremble in your limbs, the aftershocks of pleasure and the slow return to earth. His palm smoothed over your back, steadying.
"I’ve got you," he murmured, lips pressing against the crown of your head. "Always."
There was no urgency now, no hunger demanding more. Just the quiet between breaths, the way his thumb traced idle patterns against your skin, the way his body curved around yours like he could shield you from everything.
"You know that, don’t you?" he asked after a moment, voice low. "That I’m not letting you go."
It wasn’t a question, not really. It was a vow, wrapped in the dark and the warmth of the bed, in the way his fingers laced with yours.
“Should we head back down?” You asked him.
He shook his head, eyes fluttering open just enough to look at you with a lopsided grin.
“Go back down? And risk someone walking in on us with bedhead and judgment in their eyes? No thanks.”
You snorted. “So you’re staying in bed forever?”
“Exactly,” he said, settling deeper into the pillows. “Tell my friends and family I’ve retired. Full-time blanket burrito. Part-time cuddler.”
You cringed at his corny response, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss just behind your ear.
“Besides,” he murmured, “why would I leave when you’re literally right here being all soft and gorgeous and mine.”
You felt your cheeks warm as he pulled the blanket higher around both of you.
“Wake me up in five to seven business days,” he whispered.
You closed your eyes, let the weight of him, the scent of him, the safety of him, sink into your bones. Before you knew it, the sound of his heartbeat lured you to a deep sleep.
Something in the house stirred you awake.
You let out a quiet groan and buried your face into the pillow, trying to cling to the last threads of sleep. Your head throbbed with a dull ache at your temples, the unmistakable consequence of too many drinks and too little water. You immediately regretted everything you had consumed that night.
Still half-asleep, you stretched your arm across the bed, expecting to feel the familiar warmth of Josh beside you. But your fingertips brushed only cool sheets. You blinked, confused, and lifted your head slightly, letting your eyes adjust to the dim light filtering in through the curtains.
Josh was gone.
Frowning, you sat up fully, pushing the blankets aside as you glanced around the room. His clothes were missing from where he’d left them. The space where he had been lying was already cool to the touch. He hadn’t just gone to the bathroom.
You rubbed a hand over your face, trying to make sense of it. He hadn’t said anything about leaving, and there was no note or message left behind. You knew he was the host tonight. Maybe someone downstairs had needed something, or he was helping clean up the inevitable chaos. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy that he had left so quietly.
The house had gone unusually still. No music. No voices. No footsteps on the creaky stairs. Just the low hum of silence pressing against the walls.
You grabbed your clothes from the floor and quickly dressed, your ears straining for any sign of movement, footsteps, voices, laughter, anything to suggest someone else was awake.
But there was nothing. The silence felt unnatural, like the house was holding its breath.
You hesitated at Josh’s bedroom door, hand on the knob. You wanted to call out, but something about the stillness made you stop. You didn’t want to be the one to break it.
Maybe everyone was still asleep. Maybe it was early. You had no idea what time it was, your phone was still somewhere in the chaos of the night before.
You opened the door slowly and stepped into the hallway, every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet sounding ten times louder than it should. The air was colder out here, biting at your skin.
You made your way down the stairs, the wood groaning softly under your weight, and entered the main room where everyone had been drinking and laughing just hours ago.
The fire had long since died, leaving only a faint smell of smoke in the air. Empty beer bottles and red plastic cups littered the tables and floor. A few blankets were still bunched up on the couch, but no one was under them.
A quiet, creeping urgency bloomed in your chest.
You moved faster now, checking the kitchen, the side room, even peeking down the hall toward the guest bedrooms. Nothing. No signs of anyone. It was like they had all just vanished.
Your heartbeat pounded faster, the silence around you growing heavier with every second.
They wouldn’t have gone outside, not in weather like this. You turned toward the front windows, where snow fell in thick, relentless waves, burying the world in white. The storm had only intensified since nightfall. No one in their right mind would leave the safety of the cabin now.
But your friends hadn’t been thinking clearly. The drinks, the laughter, the stupid jokes. What if one of them had dared the others to step outside? The thought sent a jolt of panic through you, your breath catching in your throat. You couldn’t just sit here until morning, pretending everything was fine. Not when they might be out there, lost in the freezing dark.
Hands trembling, you jammed your feet into your boots and snatched your jacket from the hook. Every second wasted was another second the storm swallowed them whole. You had to find them before the mountain had them forever.
As you shrugged on your jacket and turned toward the front door, something caught your eye. The bathroom door stood slightly ajar, swaying with an eerie, rhythmic creak. The wind, you told yourself. It had to be the wind, someone must’ve left the window open. But the logical explanation did nothing to stop the icy prickle of dread crawling up your spine. Your mind conjured images of shadowed figures lurking just out of sight, watching from the darkness.
Swallowing hard, you forced yourself toward the bathroom. The floorboards groaned under your weight as you inched closer, each step too loud in the suffocating silence. With a shaky breath, you pushed the door open.
Cold air rushed over you. The window gaped wide, snowflakes swirling inside like spectral fingers. Your gaze darted across the empty room, searching for movement, for anything. Then you saw it.
The mirror.
Dark, crimson letters smeared across the glass, still glistening wet. Your hand flew to your mouth, stifling a gasp. The metallic tang of blood hit your nostrils. Your lungs locked. A scream clawed at your throat, but terror had stolen your voice. All you could do was stare, frozen, at the words staring back at you:
WELCOME BACK
The words were scrawled across the mirror in dark, dripping red. You couldn’t stop staring. The letters were uneven, smeared like they’d been written in a hurry or by someone who wanted them to look that way. Blood slid slowly down the glass, a thick line breaking through the last word.
Your body locked in place, fear rooting you to the spot. Every hair on your arms stood up. You didn’t need to touch it to know it was real.
Whoever wrote that they were here. And you were alone.
Your breath hitched as the cold from the open window bit deeper into your skin. The storm outside no longer felt like the danger, it felt like the only way out.
You turned and ran, the sound of your boots pounding on the floor loud in the silence. The walls seemed to close in as you sprinted through the hallway, adrenaline numbing your fingers as you grabbed for the front door.
Your hand was just about to touch the knob when you heard it.
A muffled scream.
You froze.
It was distant, but unmistakable. Ragged, broken, and coming from somewhere deeper inside the lodge. Someone was here and they were screaming for help.
Your body shook as dread gripped you tight. You knew exactly where the scream had come from, the only place you hadn’t checked.
The basement.
Every instinct screamed at you to run. To get out, to find help, to survive. But you also knew it would be too late. Help wouldn’t come fast enough. And if someone was still alive, every second mattered.
Without giving yourself time to reconsider, you turned and headed for the basement door.
You opened it slowly, trying not to breathe too loud. When you and Sam had been down here earlier, it was dark, but now, it was pitch black. A suffocating kind of dark. You cursed under your breath and fumbled for your phone, the small flashlight beam flickering on as you started down the stairs.
The silence followed you. Heavy. Oppressive. The kind of silence that didn’t feel empty.
At the bottom, your light skimmed across the floor, revealing overturned beer crates and broken furniture scattered across the basement. The old wooden chair Josh used to joke about being haunted now lay on its side, splintered.
There had been a struggle. No question.
You tried not to gag at the thought.
Then your flashlight caught it. The door at the end of the hallway. The one Josh had told you never to open.
It was open now. Fully.
You swallowed hard, a tight knot forming in your throat. The scream had come from there. You knew it.
Steeling yourself, you stepped forward, crossing the basement and slipping through the open doorway. What you saw on the other side made your skin crawl.
It wasn’t just a room.
It was another section of the basement entirely. Narrow hallways branched off in different directions, lined with doors, storage rooms, utility closets, you couldn’t tell. The space felt hidden, secret. Like it wasn’t meant to be found.
That’s when you heard the scream again.
This time it was louder, clearer. Raw and panicked, echoing off the walls. And this time, you could make out the voice.
Ashley.
This time, your body didn’t freeze. Adrenaline surged like a current through your veins, propelling your legs into motion. You sprinted toward the sound of her scream, heart hammering, breath shallow. As you rounded a corner, the screaming doubled. Ashley’s voice now joined by Chris’s, both echoing in distorted waves through the concrete walls.
Your fear didn’t slow you. It sharpened you.
You turned the final corner and there they were.
Ashley and Chris were backed against the far wall, their faces bone-white in the dim light. Between you and them stood a mountain of a man, his silhouette swallowing the space. The grotesque Halloween mask leered at them, the eye holes black and depthless.
He didn’t notice you enter.
He was focused entirely on them, moving in slow, deliberate steps. In one gloved hand, he held a damp cloth, soaked with something dark and unidentifiable. You didn’t want to guess what it was meant for.
Chris and Ashley’s eyes snapped to you then widened.
You lifted a finger to your lips and silently begged them not to speak.
The masked man kept advancing.
Silently, your gaze swept the room. A weapon. Anything. Sweat stung your eyes as you spotted it, an empty beer bottle, half-hidden under a toppled crate. You snatched it, the glass slick in your palm. You clutched the neck tightly in your hand. Every muscle tensed as you crept forward, the floorboards mercifully silent beneath you.
You were close now. Just behind him.
Ashley’s eyes flicked from him to you again.
That did it.
The man’s head twitched, he sensed it. He sensed you.
You screamed and brought the bottle down with everything you had. Glass exploded against the back of his head. He roared in pain, stumbling forward, one hand clamped to his skull. Blood seeped from under the mask, but he didn’t go down.
The mask had taken the worst of the blow.
“Run!” you shouted.
Chris grabbed Ashley’s wrist, dragging her toward a side exit that led deeper into the basement halls, avoiding the path blocked by the man. You turned, ready to bolt back the way you’d come.
That’s when you heard it.
A voice.
Deep. Warped. Distorted through some kind of voice modulator.
It said your name.
Your name.
Your blood went cold. He knew who you were. You ran harder, crashing through the basement door and sprinting into the hallway beyond. Behind you, you heard the thundering footsteps of boots hitting the floor. He was up. And he was coming. Now, he was after you.
Your feet pounded the floor as you tore down the hallway, your breath tearing through your throat like fire. The air was thick, damp, the walls closing in as the thunder of boots echoed behind you, closer with every second.
You flew up the stairs two at a time, nearly slipping on the top step. As you burst back into the main floor of the lodge, you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You knew the layout. You had seconds, maybe less to think.
You grabbed the nearest hall table and flipped it onto its side, shoving it hard across the floor. It scraped loudly against the wood and crashed down at the top of the basement stairs, blocking the entrance. It wouldn’t stop him, but maybe it would slow him. You ran again, past the flickering firelight of the main room, dodging fallen chairs and discarded beer bottles.
He was coming.
You could feel it. That awful, unrelenting presence behind you like gravity itself.
You turned sharply into the back hallway, eyes searching for any door, any place to hide. Your chest burned, your legs already heavy. You stumbled into a guest room, slammed the door shut, and pressed your back to it, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your breathing.
A long moment passed.
Silence.
Then the crash of wood splintering. The table at the top of the stairs had been obliterated. The makeshift barricade hadn’t bought you more than a few seconds.
He was inside. He was hunting you now.
Inside the guess room you immediately scanned the space. A bed. A closet. A dresser. No time to think. You dropped to the floor and slid beneath the bed, pressing yourself flat against the cold, dusty boards, forcing your breath to stay silent.
The moment stretched endlessly.
Then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the stairs echoed through the lodge. He was already upstairs, and his heavy footsteps thudded against the floor as he moved through the halls, methodically checking rooms one by one.
The hallway creaked under his weight. Then the doorknob turned, slowly.
The door opened with a soft groan, and his boots stepped into the room.
He stood there for a moment, perfectly still, and you could almost feel his presence filling the space. Your heart pounded so loudly you were convinced it would give you away.
Then his voice filled the silence, low and drawn out, distorted through the modulator.
“I seeeee you…”
Your breath froze. His boots shifted slightly as he stepped forward.
“You always had to go and help them, didn’t you?” he said, voice calm, almost amused. “Couldn’t leave the lodge like the rest of them.”
He crouched down.
From under the bed, you saw his gloved hand press to the floor just inches away from your face. He tapped his fingers slowly, rhythmically, like he was thinking, maybe savouring the moment.
“Hiding… really?” he murmured. “You’re smarter than that.”
Your entire body tensed. You didn’t move, didn’t breathe, barely blinked.
“I could drag you out right now,” he said, tone almost playful. “But where’s the fun in that?”
He stood again.
His boots turned and walked back toward the door. As he reached the hallway, his voice drifted back, distorted and singsong.
“I’ll give you a head start.”
Then the door clicked shut behind him.
You stayed frozen, still flat against the floor, too afraid to believe he was gone. The house had gone quiet again, but you knew the silence didn’t mean safety.
He was still here.
And now he was hunting.
You stayed pressed to the floor, waiting until your breathing slowed and the roar of your heartbeat dulled in your ears. Your hands were still shaking, the weight of what had just happened sinking in fully now. Somewhere in the house, that masked man was still moving. Still searching.
You couldn’t stay here. Not alone.
A plan began to form through the haze of fear. You had to find Chris and Ashley. Being together gave you a chance, splitting up would only make you easier targets. If you could get back down to the basement quietly, carefully, maybe you could all find a way out together.
You crawled out from under the bed and rose to your feet as slowly and silently as possible. Every creak of the floorboard made your skin tighten, but the room remained still. Just the low hum of the wind pressing against the lodge.
You slipped the door open a crack and peered into the hallway. Empty.
The hallway stretched out in eerie silence, every shadow too long, every corner too dark. You slipped out, closing the door behind you with barely a click. With each step, you kept low, your body tense and alert, listening for any shift, any breath that wasn’t yours.
You reached the staircase and paused at the top.
The darkness below yawned open, wide and waiting. Somewhere down there, Chris and Ashley were still hiding hopefully. You swallowed hard and began to descend, one step at a time, your hand trailing the banister to steady yourself. The wood creaked faintly beneath your weight, but you couldn’t stop now. You had to keep moving.
At the bottom of the stairs, you stopped to listen again.
Still nothing.
You turned down the hallway, the one leading toward the section of the basement where you last saw them. The silence pressed harder now, as if the air itself didn’t want to breathe. You reached a closed door, one you hadn’t checked before.
Maybe they were hiding in here. Maybe they’d found another way through.
You curled your fingers around the handle, turned it slowly, and eased the door open just a crack.
And froze.
He was there.
Standing on the other side, just inches away.
The masked man.
You stared straight into the empty black eyeholes of his mask. He didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. He was just standing there as if he’d been waiting for you.
Your breath caught in your throat.
He tilted his head.
Just a little.
Like he was smiling.
The eyeholes of the mask stared through you, and for a second, your brain refused to believe it was real.
Then he moved.
Just a shift of his shoulders, a slight step forward but it was enough.
You screamed.
The sound tore out of you before you could stop it, sharp and panicked, echoing off the concrete walls. You stumbled back from the door, heart in your throat, breath ragged.
Your first instinct was to turn and run upstairs. Just get away. Put space between you and that thing, that man, whatever he was.
But you stopped yourself.
Chris and Ashley were still down here. Hiding. Waiting. Maybe bleeding.
You couldn’t leave them.
You spun and ran, not back upstairs, but down the hall, toward the far side of the basement. You didn’t hear him behind you at first, but you felt him. The floor seemed to vibrate with his footsteps as he gave chase.
You didn’t have a plan, just instinct. You turned hard at the first junction, then another, ducking into the maze of back corridors and storage rooms, trying to loop him, trying to shake him. You ducked through a low doorway, dodging a hanging pipe, nearly slipped on a damp patch of concrete but caught yourself just in time.
Behind you, the sound of his boots grew louder, closer.
You ducked into another side room, one filled with shelving and crates stacked high. You moved fast, pushing through the narrow gaps, weaving your way to the far side and slipping out just as he entered the opposite end.
You heard him stop. Then nothing.
You held your breath, pressed against the cold wall, heart hammering so loud you thought it might echo.
Had you lost him?
No. Just bought yourself seconds.
You had to get back to that side room where Chris and Ashley had gone. If you could loop through the utility corridor on the left, you might just beat him there.
You slipped back into the corridor, keeping low, your footsteps barely audible. You took a sharp left, cutting through the old utility passage with its rusted pipes and exposed wiring. Your chest burned, your legs ached, but you kept going, convinced you’d looped around fast enough to get ahead of him.
The hallway was still. Empty. You moved quietly, hugging the wall, ears straining for any hint of footsteps, breathing, anything.
Nothing.
You reached the intersection near the room Chris and Ashley had fled into, just a few steps away. Your heart lifted slightly.
Maybe you’d actually lost him.
But the moment you turned the corner -
A hand clamped down on your arm like a vice.
He’d been waiting.
He yanked you back hard, and you barely caught yourself before slamming into the wall. You screamed, twisting in his grip, but it was like being held by a wall of stone. His mask was inches from your face now, close enough to see the cracks in the paint, the dried blood on the chin. He was tall. Taller than you’d realized. Broader. Inhumanly still.
Panic surged through you. You flailed with your free hand, scrambling for anything and your fingers closed around something cold and smooth on the shelf beside you.
A vase.
Small. Decorative. Useless, until you smashed it into his forearm.
The glass shattered, sharp pieces slicing across both of you, but it did the job. He grunted and recoiled, grip loosening just enough.
You ripped free and stumbled back, your arm throbbing, tiny cuts stinging along your hand. He lunged for you again, but you ducked low and bolted toward the door.
You ducked under his arm and bolted, lungs burning, but your foot caught on a jagged piece of wood jutting from the floor. You hit the ground hard, the impact jarring up through your elbow and into your shoulder. Your scream echoed through the corridor, loud and raw. Pain exploded in your arm as you rolled onto your back, instinctively trying to push yourself up, but it was no use. The shooting ache froze your muscles, and your breath hitched in panic.
Then you heard it. The slow, deliberate sound of boots. He was coming.
You turned your head and saw him advancing through the shadows, unfazed, unhurried. The mask gleamed faintly in the dark, its hollow eyes fixed on you like a predator that already knew it had won. You scrambled backward on your elbows, dragging yourself over the cracked concrete, ignoring the sting of every movement, the burn of broken skin against the floor.
Your voice broke into a sob. “No—please—!”
But he didn’t stop.
You kicked at him, flailing, your heel catching his thigh. It barely staggered him.
His hand shot down, grabbing your ankle so tight it sent another jolt of pain shooting up your leg. You screamed again and kicked harder, clawing at the floor, reaching for anything to hold onto. But there was nothing.
He began to drag you backward, your body scraping roughly along the floor. You felt every bump, every uneven groove in the concrete biting into your spine and hips. Your jacket bunched at your shoulders as you were yanked faster now, your free leg flailing wildly.
Your screams were deafening, but they went unanswered.
You reached toward doorframes, toward corners, your fingertips grazing the wood but not catching. The further he pulled you, the darker the hallway seemed to grow, like you were being dragged into a void that existed only for you.
He turned a corner sharply, and your head hit the floor. Dizzy, disoriented, you barely registered the next motion until he stopped moving.
Then he reached down again.
With effortless force, he hoisted you into the air and slung you over his shoulder. Your stomach flipped as your body was lifted and twisted, the world tilting upside down.
You thrashed, fists pounding his back, feet kicking helplessly behind him. Your voice cracked from screaming, but you didn’t stop, not for a second.
“PUT ME DOWN! LET ME GO!”
You could barely breathe from the pressure of his shoulder against your ribs. His arm locked around the back of your legs, holding you in place like you were a bag of supplies, not a person. You felt the way his body barely shifted under your weight. You were nothing to him.
He walked forward, steady and sure, moving through the lodge like he knew it intimately.
He kicked open the front door with one brutal slam of his boot. A rush of frigid wind blasted against your face, snow catching in your hair, your lungs seizing from the sudden drop in temperature. The night outside was blindingly white, the blizzard fully alive now, howling through the trees like a pack of wild things.
You blinked through tears and snow, and there, across the yard, past the warped fence and buried stepping stones was the dilapidated shed.
The shed door groaned as he pushed it open, the blizzard’s howl immediately muffled as he stepped inside and shut it behind him. The space was small, walls lined with old tools and crates stacked with forgotten gear. It smelled of damp wood and rust. Overhead, a single hanging bulb flickered to life with a sharp click, casting the room in a pale, sickly glow.
He turned, one arm still braced around your legs, and with the other hand reached back and twisted the bolt lock on the door. Click. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the cramped space.
Then he moved toward the center of the room and dropped you unceremoniously onto a wooden stool. Your body jolted at the impact, your injured arm screaming in protest. The cold bit at your skin through your torn jacket, and the fear tightened around your throat like a rope.
“Please,” you gasped, “leave us alone.”
He didn’t respond.
He just stood there, towering, unmoving. The mask stared at you, eyes black, mouth stretched into that grotesque, permanent smile. You tried to steady your voice, but it cracked as you rambled, desperate.
“We won’t tell anyone, okay? I swear. Whatever you did, whatever you want, we won’t say a word. Just let us go.”
Still nothing.
He watched you with eerie stillness, and something about that silence made the fear even worse. You couldn’t read him. Couldn't predict him. Couldn't understand what he wanted.
Your voice broke again. “Please—”
Then he tilted his head.
“God, you’re so cute when you’re freaking out,” he said.
The voice was no longer filtered. It was familiar.
Your breath caught, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. That voice. That tone. You blinked up at him, heart pounding in your ears.
“What?” was all you managed to whisper.
Slowly, with deliberate ease, he reached up to the side of his mask. His gloved fingers found the edges, hooked under the jaw. And then he peeled it off.
The mask came away in one smooth motion, revealing a face you knew.
A face you trusted.
Josh.
Josh stared back at you, face flushed, hair damp with sweat, but his eyes weren’t the same. They were wide. Lit. Burning with something manic, something far too close to pleasure.
“Josh?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he began to laugh.
Not a chuckle. Not a smirk. A full, sudden, jarring burst of laughter that came tearing out of his throat like it had been trapped inside for too long. It echoed off the walls of the shed, too loud, too sharp, bouncing around the space like it didn’t belong.
His eyes were wide now. Wild. Glassy with some combination of adrenaline and obsession. He barely blinked as he stared at you, drinking in every flicker of your expression like it was his favorite thing in the world.
You sat frozen on the stool, confused, panting, injured, trembling, exactly how he wanted you.
“Oh my God,” he said between laughs, shaking his head with theatrical disbelief. “Wait, you thought this was real? You seriously thought this was like - some psycho in a mask coming to get you? You? Come on.”
His voice dropped low, mocking, almost sing-song.
“You of all people should know me better.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t.
Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. Your brain was scrambling to connect dots that refused to fit together. The blood in your ears was too loud. Your pulse thudded painfully in your temple. Your injured arm throbbed with each breath.
Josh took a step closer, casual now, like this was all some kind of joke between friends. His body relaxed, but his grin didn’t fade. That grin, so wide it looked painful, so forced it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
You blinked rapidly, trying to process what you were seeing.
His clothes were wrong.
Underneath the bulky jacket and mask gear, he wore layered thermal shirts and torn snow pants, mud-stained, blood-streaked. But it was the harness strapped around his torso that caught your eye. Wires. Hooks. A device clipped at his hip. A remote?
A part of you recognized the setup immediately. It was meant for effects. Speakers. Smoke. Movement. All tools to orchestrate fear.
He’d planned this.
All of it.
“Josh,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice hoarse. “What… what the hell is going on?”
He didn’t answer. Just smiled.
Then he leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing, voice low and gleeful.
“I’m just putting on a little show for our friends,” he said. “You wanted to relive the past, right? Well, welcome back to Blackwood.”
You stared at him, still trembling, your entire body screaming to move, to run, to understand. But nothing made sense.
“What are you planning, Josh?” you asked, your voice uneven. “What is this?”
That grin didn’t leave his face. But something behind it shifted. Hardened.
“I’m giving them what they deserve,” he said, stepping back just slightly, pacing in a lazy half-circle like he was warming up for a monologue. “After what they did last year. After what they did to Hannah and Beth, did you really think they were just going to get away with it?”
His voice turned bitter. Tight with anger. “They laughed. They joked. They filmed it. They watched them run out into the cold and none of them stopped them. None of them even cared.”
Your stomach twisted. You could barely breathe.
“I know,” you said quickly. “I know what happened, Josh. But you have to understand, they are sorry for what happened. They all regret it every day. You know I didn’t have anything to do with it. I wasn’t part of it.”
Josh stopped pacing. He looked at you, and, for a second his expression softened. Not sympathy, exactly. Just recognition.
“That’s true,” he said, nodding once. “You weren’t. You never would’ve gone along with that.”
Then his grin returned, sharper now.
“That’s why I was really hoping,” he continued, voice lowering, “that after our little activity earlier, you would’ve just passed out for the night. Slept through the whole thing. Left this to them.”
You stared, horror blooming slowly.
“But I guess that’s not like you,” he added, tilting his head with mock admiration. “Always poking around. Always trying to fix things. The brave one. The smart one. The one who makes it to the end.”
He leaned in again, eyes shining.
“The final girl in my prank.”
You swallowed hard, fighting the tremor in your voice as you pushed through the pain curling in your chest. “Josh, this isn’t fair. None of this. This is torture. You’re putting us through, it’s not justice. You’re scaring them to death. You’re scaring me. This isn’t the way.”
His eyes flickered, something like pain or frustration, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by the same manic fire that had never really left. He took a step closer, the cold light casting sharp shadows across his face.
“You don’t understand,” he said, voice low, raw with something like desperation.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I have to do this. I have to make them feel it. All of it. The fear. The pain. The helplessness.”
He laughed bitterly, a sound that cut sharper than any blade. “They have to feel what my sisters felt that night. The night they were broken, left to freeze and scream until everything inside them shattered.”
You shook your head, tears mixing with snowflakes melting on your cheeks. “Josh, this isn’t them anymore. People change. They’re not the same. You’re punishing us. This isn’t justice, it’s revenge twisted into something worse.”
His grin faltered, but only for a moment. “No. You don’t get to decide what this is. I’m giving them what they deserve. ”
You felt the cold tightening around your heart, realizing that no words could reach him, not now. Not when his mind had spiraled so far down that the lines between justice and vengeance, love and hate, had blurred into something dark and terrible.
Your breath hitched. “Josh, please. Please stop.”
Josh’s eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, the fire in them wavered. Just a flicker, but it was there. A fracture in the madness. Maybe it was your trembling, the way your injured arm cradled uselessly against your side, or maybe it was the tears clinging to your lashes, too thick and heavy to hide anymore.
He faltered.
His posture shifted. The manic tension in his shoulders loosened, and his expression, still split by that horrible grin, sagged at the edges.
And then, just like that, the mask of vengeance cracked.
“Oh, baby…” he murmured, voice softening as he took another step forward. “Fuck, it hurts to see you like this.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Everything in you was screaming to run, to scream, to fight but your body had folded into itself, too stunned by pain and disbelief.
Josh crouched down in front of you, the shift sudden and intimate. His gloved hand reached out slowly, almost reverently, and he brushed the damp strands of hair from your face. His fingertips were cold, but his touch was gentle, terrifyingly so.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, voice dipped in something sickly sweet. “I didn’t want it to be like this for you. You weren’t supposed to be awake. I just needed to make it real for them.”
You shook your head, a sob crawling up your throat. “I don’t want any part of this.”
“I know, I know.” He nodded quickly, like agreeing made it better. “It’s not forever, okay? Just tonight. It’s just for tonight, and I promise, I promise, no one’s gonna get hurt. Just a scare. That’s all.”
You flinched when he tried to touch your cheek. He paused, hurt flashing through his eyes.
“Hey,” he whispered, “I’d never hurt you. You know that, right? You’re not like the others. You’re the only one who ever saw me.”
The words should’ve comforted you, but they felt like chains tightening around your chest.
He leaned closer, voice barely audible now. “Just trust me. Please. After tonight, it’s over.”
You opened your mouth to speak, to plead with Josh one last time but the words died on your tongue as a voice cut through the cold night like a blade.
“He’s lying, ______.”
Your head snapped toward the sound. Josh’s did too, slower, tighter, like something in him already knew what was coming.
Mike stood at the edge of the clearing, barely upright. His face was a bruised and bloodied mess, one eye nearly swollen shut, blood dried in streaks across his temple and jaw. His clothes were torn, muddied, and soaked in crimson. In his trembling hands, he held a gun, aimed straight at Josh.
“Michael…” Josh breathed, the name dry on his tongue, like dust.
You stumbled to your feet in a daze, confusion knotting in your gut. “Mike, what…?”
Mike didn’t look at you. His eyes were locked on Josh, wild with fury and grief. “Get away from him, _____,” he said, his voice low but shaking. “He killed Jessica.”
The world dropped out from under you.
Silence rang louder than any scream could. Your breath hitched, chest rising too fast, too shallow.
“Wh… What?”
Your voice was barely audible, but it cracked like glass.
Josh didn’t move. His smile was gone now. In its place was something far more disturbing: stillness. A kind of dread that sunk deep into his bones.
“He’s lying,” Josh said, shaking his head slowly, like if he denied it gently enough, it wouldn’t be real. “No, _____, please, he’s twisting this. I didn’t touch Jessica. You know me.”
You took a step back. That one step felt like a mile.
Your eyes flicked down, finally really seeing him. His clothes, soaked through in dried maroon, his gloves, the sticky sheen around the seams. You hadn’t noticed before, or maybe you had and refused to let yourself see it.
“No…” you whispered, but it wasn’t denial anymore.
It was the beginning of understanding.
Josh's voice cracked now, desperate. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t kill her. He’s setting me up. You can’t believe him over me. Not after everything, not you.”
“Jessica’s gone,” Mike said, stepping forward, the gun trembling in his hand but his aim steady. “He snapped. It wasn’t just a scare, it never was. I watched her get pulled out of the cabin.”
You staggered, bile rising in your throat. “Josh… please tell me it’s not true.”
But he didn’t answer.
His jaw clenched. His shoulders pulled tight. And for the first time, he looked… cornered.
Not wounded. Not misunderstood.
Cornered.
You saw the truth then not in words, but in the silence. In his refusal to deny it again.
Your voice was a whisper. “You said no one would get hurt.”
Josh’s eyes filled with something like sorrow. Or maybe it was regret. It was too late to tell anymore.
You stepped, slow and unsteady, but deliberate, past the cracked earth and stopped behind Mike.
Josh’s eyes followed your every move, widening with disbelief. His face twisted, something sharp and fractured passing through it.
“No…” he said, barely audible. “No, no, no.”
You stood behind Mike, not because you wanted to, not because you fully understood what was happening but because you had to. Because whatever this was, Josh had become something you couldn’t reach. And now someone had to stop him.
Josh’s jaw clenched so tightly you could hear his teeth grind. The sorrow was gone in an instant, swallowed whole by something darker.
His lip curled. “So that’s it?” he spat. “You pick him? After everything we’ve been through, you take his side?”
You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Your breath trembled in your throat, but you didn’t move away from Mike.
Josh stepped forward, just one pace, but it was enough to make Mike raise the gun higher.
“Oh, of course,” Josh sneered. “It’s Mike, the golden boy. The hero. Always showing up right when a lady needs saving.” His eyes locked on yours.
You flinched.
Josh’s voice pitched upward, fraying at the edges. “You think he cares about you? He didn’t even care about Jessica!”
“Shut up, Josh,” Mike snapped, the gun steady despite the tremor in his jaw. “This isn’t about me.”
“Isn’t it?” Josh roared, taking another step, wildness flashing across his face. “Everything is about you, Mike. You act like some noble protector, but you’re nothing. You’re just a coward hiding behind a gun and a pretty face.”
You swallowed, eyes darting between them. Josh was unraveling.
“You twisted her,” Josh hissed, voice low and venomous now, eyes never leaving yours. “You filled her head with lies. You turned her against me.”
“No one turned me,” you finally said, your voice shaking but firm. “You did that yourself.”
Josh stopped.
He looked like you had slapped him. For a breath, his rage cracked, like the wind knocked out of a storm. And then it all burned away.
His fists clenched, shaking. “You don’t mean that,” he said, voice cracking. “You love me.”
“I don’t know who you are now.” you whispered.
Mike shifted slightly, keeping the gun raised but edging closer to you. His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible above the wind.
“Go. Get back to the lodge,” he said, eyes never leaving Josh. “The others are there. You’ll be safe with them.”
Your mouth opened in protest, but no sound came. You didn’t want to leave Mike here, not with him. Not after everything. But Mike didn’t give you a choice.
“I’ll keep him here,” he murmured. “I can hold him off until help comes.”
Josh didn’t speak. His breathing had gone ragged, chest rising and falling like he was on the edge of either collapsing or exploding. His eyes flicked between you and Mike, wild and lost.
You hesitated.
Your feet felt like stone, like moving them would take everything you had left. But you forced yourself to turn slowly, still feeling the weight of Josh’s gaze on your back like ice along your spine.
You stopped at the edge of the clearing and looked back one last time.
Josh was staring at you, broken and furious all at once. His mouth was trembling, the muscles in his jaw twitching like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.
It was the look of someone watching their world fall apart.
You wanted to scream at him. To ask why. To tell him that none of this had to happen. But you didn’t. Because no words would change what had already been done.
So you gave him a look. A look filled with everything he had shattered: trust, hope, and something that might have once been love.
And then you turned, and ran.
Behind you, the cold wind swallowed the last of Josh’s voice as he finally shouted after you.
“Don’t leave me!”
The wind howled through the trees like a scream torn from something ancient and dying. You pushed forward along the snow-covered path, heart thundering in your chest as if it were trying to rip its way out. Every shadow flickered with menace. Every gust of air seemed to whisper your name.
You had to get back to the lodge.
You had to warn the others.
Josh had killed Jessica.
The words echoed in your skull, a sick chant that refused to fade.
Your boots crunched over frozen earth, the snow thick and unforgiving beneath your feet. Your breath came in ragged bursts, pale clouds vanishing into the icy night. But it wasn’t the cold that made your hands tremble.
It was something else.
Something watching.
Something hungry.
A noise pierced the night.
Not behind you.
Above.
It was faint, like bones clicking together. Deliberate. Wet. Wrong. You stopped cold. A primal instinct roared through you, warning you to be still, to not look up. But curiosity was a curse stronger than fear.
Your gaze rose slowly.
Perched in the skeletal branches above was a thing born of nightmare. Its gaunt limbs clung to the bark in a grotesque mimicry of a spider, joints twitching with broken rhythm. Its skin was pulled taut across a sunken frame, a death mask of muscle and sinew. Where eyes should’ve been, there were only hollow pits, black, soulless voids that somehow saw you all the same.
It tilted its head.
Its mouth unhinged, peeling open wider than anything human, revealing jagged teeth stacked in rows, each one serrated like shattered glass. Then, it screamed, a shriek that pierced the night and ripped into your skull like barbed wire.
You ran.
Branches tore at your arms as you sprinted through the trees, stumbling, gasping, slipping in the snow. Behind you, the creature leapt from the tree. Its movements were wrong, too fast, too fluid, like time bent around it.
You could feel it gaining.
You didn’t dare look back.
Your foot caught on a root buried beneath the snow. Time slowed.
You pitched forward with a strangled cry, arms flailing, then the ground gave out beneath you.
A hollow groan. A crack like thunder.
The earth opened like a mouth.
You fell.
The world tilted and you were tumbling, flailing through a shaft of crumbling soil and ancient stone. Snow and ice scraped along your arms. Rocks tore at your legs. Then impact.
You hit the bottom with a soundless cry, the air driven from your lungs. Pain exploded through your ribs, sharp and searing. For a long, breathless moment, you just lay there, blinking into the dark.
Then came the silence. It wasn’t peace. It wasn’t still. You were somewhere beneath the world now.
The hole you fell through was far above, just a jagged mouth letting in the faintest hint of moonlight, dust falling like snow through the beam. Everything else around you was dark stone, old timber, and silence thick as oil.
You tried to stand, your limbs protested, joints trembling. You bit back a scream as you leaned against the icy wall. Your flashlight was gone.
You were in the mines.
The old ones. Abandoned decades ago after the collapse. Everyone said they were haunted.
The darkness swallowed everything. You stood there, ribs aching, heart pounding, unable to tell how deep you’d fallen, only that you were far from the surface and farther still from anything safe. Cold sweat clung to your neck, your breath rising in shaky clouds that quickly disappeared into the black.
You had to move.
Every instinct screamed it. You weren’t alone down here. Even if the Wendigo hadn’t followed you, something in the air felt… wrong. Like the earth remembered pain. Remembered blood. And it remembered you now.
You ran your hand along the wall, slick with condensation, and took one slow step, then another. The ground was uneven, gravel and wet stone crunching beneath your boots. Your hands scraped along crumbling wood supports, fingers brushing the splinters of a beam so old it sagged like tired bones.
You blinked into the dark, willing your eyes to adjust. Shapes teased the edge of your vision, broken mine carts, shattered rails snaking like ribs across the floor. Crates rotted and half-collapsed under the weight of years. The scent of old oil, rust, and wet ash clung to the air like something still burning beneath the skin of the earth.
A glint caught your eye. You stumbled forward, heart leaping with cautious hope.
There half-buried beneath a tarp and a collapsed helmet, was a handheld torch. One of the old mining ones. Your hands trembled as you pried it free, the plastic cracked, the switch stiff with age. You held your breath and flicked it on.
Click.
A flicker. Then a dim orange beam cut through the dark, casting long shadows against the stone. Relief punched through your chest. It barely reached ten feet in front of you, but it was something.
Light.
You turned in a slow circle, the beam catching more remnants of the past. Pickaxes leaning against walls, their handles warped. A dusty boot lying on its side, the other nowhere to be seen. A broken lunchbox, rust flaked off like dead skin.
You kept going.
The tunnel forked, left into a deeper corridor choked with fallen beams, right into a narrow shaft where the air seemed colder still. You chose the right, dragging your fingers along the wall to stay balanced.
Every sound made you freeze. A pebble falling. Water dripping into a hidden pool. Once, the torch flickered and your heart stopped with it.
Then something moved ahead. You froze.
No, it was just a curtain of hanging roots, trailing down from the cracked ceiling like veins. You pushed through, brushing them aside as the tunnel widened.
More signs of death littered the space. Scraps of clothing. Fingernail gouges in the wall. Symbols scratched in the stone. A helmet with a long-dead head still inside.
Panic tightened in your throat.
You had to get out.
This place wasn’t just abandoned. It had been left behind. Sealed away for a reason.
And now you were in it.
And something else might be, too.
You’d stopped keeping track of time. Down here, hours bled together into a slow, gnawing ache of cold and silence. Your legs burned. Your throat was raw from breathing dust and fear. The dim beam of the old torch flickered more often now, the battery fading like your hope.
You had climbed over collapsed rails, crawled through gaps barely big enough for your body, and descended into shafts where the walls whispered in the dark. There was no way to tell if you were deeper or closer to the surface. It all felt the same: cold, tight, endless.
At one point, you sat down, back against a support beam, the old timber groaning above and let the torch rest in your lap. You stared at the wall across from you, blank and close, like a tombstone pressed against your nose.
Maybe this was it. Maybe you’d wander forever, slowly fading away until you were just another lost story these mines refused to give up.
Your fingers trembled. Your stomach had long since stopped growling. You leaned your head back, eyes fluttering shut. Just for a second. Just to breathe.
Then you heard it.
At first you thought it was your mind cracking, like a hallucination surfacing from the dark. But then it came again.
Mumbling.
Soft. Erratic. Human.
You froze, heart snapping to attention. The sound drifted faintly through one of the side tunnels, like someone speaking just out of earshot, voice fractured and low, words tangled in themselves.
You didn’t know whether to scream or cry.
But you rose. You kept the torch low, your steps cautious, almost silent. The air grew thicker, fouler. A rank, sweet stench clung to the stone like something dead had been soaked into it. As you rounded the corner, the sound sharpened. Words now. Rambling. Repeating.
You crept forward and then -
There he was. Josh.
Standing alone in a wide chamber, barely lit by the flicker of a dying flame from an old miner’s lantern. He rocked on his feet, arms wrapped around himself, clothes torn, hair wild and matted. His skin was pale, streaked with dirt and dried blood. His lips moved constantly, whispering to someone who wasn’t there.
“They took her. But they laughed... it wasn’t funny, I told them. I told them not to laugh!” He scratched his arms, as if something crawled beneath the skin.
Your stomach twisted. He wasn’t just lost. He was gone.
“Josh,” you said, stepping into the light.
He didn’t react at first. He kept talking, muttering about the prank, about Hannah, about the Wendigos. Then he turned slowly, eyes glassy and wide.
“Do you see them?” he asked, voice childlike. “They’re still here. They’re everywhere. I can’t sleep, not with the chewing. They’re in my head.”
“Josh… it’s me. Look at me.” You stepped closer, voice gentle but urgent. “It’s over. You're not alone.”
He blinked, face twitching, as though some part of him recognized you but didn’t know how. His lip trembled. “They’re mad at me... They’re all mad at me.”
You reached out and grabbed his shoulders. “Josh. Stop. You need to come back.”
His breathing hitched, the tension in his body wavering like a frayed wire ready to snap. He stared at you, confused. Scared. And then his eyes welled with tears.
“I just wanted it to be funny,” he whispered. “I just wanted them to feel what they felt.”
You nodded slowly, trying not to let your own fear show. “We’ll talk about it. We’ll get help. But not here. Not in this place.”
Josh’s breath hitched as the tears spilled over, tracking through the grime caked on his cheeks. For a moment, he stood trembling. Then something shifted behind his eyes. Clarity. Recognition.
His wild gaze locked onto yours, and it was like watching a storm pass through him, leaving only ruin and something fragile in its wake.
“________?” His voice cracked. “Is it really you?”
Before you could answer, he lunged forward and threw his arms around you, clutching you like a lifeline. He buried his face in your shoulder; his body wracked with sobs.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of it. I didn’t. ”
His voice broke. “I didn’t kill Jessica. It was the creatures. The creatures. But she is still alive! I swear, I tried to stop them, but, I couldn’t, I couldn’t do anything—”
You tightened your grip around him, grounding him. “I believe you, Josh. I believe you.”
He choked out a breath, clinging to your jacket like a child. You let him cry. Let the years of guilt and horror pour out of him into the quiet.
“I didn’t want anyone to die,” he murmured into your chest. “It was supposed to be a joke. A dumb joke. I just wanted them to feel what my sisters felt. But it all went so wrong.”
You pulled back slightly, lifting his face. “You’re not alone anymore. But we have to get out of here, Josh. This place, it’s not going to let us go easy. You have to tell me. How did you get into the mines?”
He blinked, sniffled, then nodded, wiping at his face with a dirt-smeared sleeve. “There’s a passage. It’s not far. It leads out past the western cliff. I can show you.”
He turned and pointed to a narrow cave mouth behind one of the rusted mine carts you hadn’t thought to check before, half-buried by rubble, almost invisible in the dark.
You swallowed your nerves and wrapped your arm around his. He flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. Slowly, the two of you began walking toward the hidden tunnel, your footsteps echoing off the stone walls, the weight of the mine pressing in behind you like a final warning.
The torch sputtered but held on.
One way or another, you were getting out of this place.
You moved through the narrow tunnel, Josh’s arm barely resting on your shoulder. The air was stale but less suffocating than the open mine chambers behind you. For a while, the only sound was your own breathing and the scraping of boots on stone.
Josh broke the silence, his voice low and rough. “I don’t even know how I got this far gone. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I could fix everything. But it just... fell apart.”
You glanced at him. The exhaustion in his eyes was something you’d never seen before. “You didn’t lose yourself, Josh. You were caught in something you couldn’t control. You fought, even if it didn’t feel like it.”
He gave a humorless laugh that barely hid the pain. “Fought? Felt more like drowning. I was supposed to keep everyone safe. And I failed you. I couldn’t keep you safe.”
“No one could have stopped this,” you said, voice steady. “Not alone.”
He looked down, voice barely audible. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
You squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. We’re not done yet.”
You kept walking, the faint light from the tunnel’s exit growing stronger.
“What happens when we get out?” you asked quietly.
Josh hesitated. “I don’t know. I just want to stop feeling like this. To get some kind of normal back.”
You nodded. “We’ll get there. First, we get out.”
The faint glow at the end of the tunnel grew steadily brighter, each step forward carrying the promise of fresh air and escape. The stale, suffocating atmosphere of the mines seemed to thin with every meter, and for the first time in hours, you dared to imagine the end was near. Your lungs burned with the effort, but hope flared in your chest like a fragile flame.
Then, shattering the fragile silence, a scream ripped through the darkness ahead. It was a gut-wrenching, agonized howl that clawed its way into your bones and refused to let go. The sound was raw, unearthly, filled with pain and primal hunger, echoing off the jagged stone walls with an eerie resonance that made your skin crawl.
Your breath caught, heart hammering so loudly you feared it would give you away. You froze in place, every muscle taut with dread. Josh’s face was pale and drawn in the flickering light of the torch. His eyes widened, reflecting the same terror clawing at your throat.
Out of the blackness stepped a monstrous shape, tall and impossibly thin, its limbs twisted at grotesque angles, scraping the tunnel walls as it moved with an unnatural, jerking grace. The Wendigo.
Its skin hung tight over its bones, a patchwork of grey, stretched like old leather. Its empty eye sockets burned with cold, malevolent intelligence, and the faint glow of the torchlight caught on its razor-sharp claws as they scraped against the rock floor, producing a sound like nails dragged over a coffin lid. The thing blocked the only exit.
Your breath hitched. Terror gripped you like icy fingers squeezing your heart.
You pressed a finger to your lips, voice barely more than a trembling whisper, “Josh… be quiet. Maybe if we move slowly, we can slip past it without it noticing.”
Josh’s gaze was fixed on the creature, and something fierce flickered behind his eyes, a desperate resolve that didn’t belong to the broken man you’d found in the depths of the mines. He shook his head slowly, his voice low and strained, “No. There’s no way we can both get past it.”
His eyes locked on yours, an unspoken understanding passing between you in that heavy, silent moment. You could see what he meant, he wasn’t just admitting defeat, he was telling you he would do whatever it took to protect you, even if it meant sacrificing himself.
His shoulders tightened as if bracing for something unbearable. “I can’t do this. Not if it means you’ll get hurt.”
Your heart pounded violently in your chest, a mix of fear and fierce determination flooding through you. You shook your head vehemently, your voice raw but steady, “No, Josh. We both get past this.”
You grabbed his arm tightly, burning eyes searching his face. “I’m not leaving you behind.”
The Wendigo snarled, a chilling sound like dry bones scraping together. It took a step forward, closing the gap, its presence suffocating and filled with ancient, insatiable hunger. The cold, dead weight of its stare pressed down on you, a living nightmare poised to strike.
But you stood firm, your pulse raging in your ears, the flickering torchlight casting monstrous shadows on the walls around you.
Josh’s hand suddenly shot out and gripped your wrist, yanking the torch from your grasp. The flame wavered, casting wild shadows that danced violently along the rough walls. His eyes, so fierce moments before, softened, filled now with a tenderness that cut through the terror like a knife.
“Stop,” you whispered, voice trembling but steady. “Don’t do this. Not like this.”
You stared back, breath shallow, heart pounding louder than ever. The weight of the Wendigo’s presence was still heavy behind you, but in this fragile moment, it all felt distant, like a fading nightmare you were both desperately clinging to.
Josh stepped closer, his hands trembling as he held the dying torch between you, the flame flickering dangerously low. His gaze locked onto yours, the softest, most vulnerable look you’d seen from him all night, like he was finally laying down the last pieces of himself.
“I had the pleasure of telling you how I felt about you all these years,” he said, voice breaking with a fragile honesty. “Just for that…, I’m the happiest man on earth.”
For a heartbeat, everything around you stopped, the darkness, the fear, the endless mines. There was only him, and you, suspended in a moment that felt impossibly real and impossibly fragile.
Then, slow and deliberate, Josh leaned in, brushing his lips against yours with a gentleness that startled you. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant, like the first tentative step after a lifetime of silence.
It was delicate, fragile, but full of something fierce and true hope, maybe, or love caught in the ruins of everything else.
“Now go,” Josh whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with a quiet urgency. Without waiting for a response, he stepped forward into the dim tunnel, the dying torch held out in front of him like a fragile shield. This left you away in the dark, away from the deathly eyes of the wendigo.
You barely had time to react before Josh began sweeping the torch wildly through the air, the flickering light carving frantic shapes against the cold stone. The Wendigo’s head snapped toward the sudden movement, its empty eye sockets burning with cruel awareness. A low, guttural growl rumbled from deep within its throat as it started to shift forward, drawn by the wavering flame and the presence of Josh.
You didn’t even notice your feet moving, pulled by some primal instinct, inching silently toward the exit. Every step was heavy with fear and disbelief, your hands trembling as you fought to hold back the sobs rising in your throat. The cold air brushing against your skin was a cruel reminder that the outside world was still real, that you might still survive this nightmare.
Your eyes never left Josh, who now stood alone between you and the monstrous creature. Gone was the wild, broken figure from earlier. In his place stood the boyish man you had fallen for, flawed, fragile, but fiercely brave.
As you reached the rusted gate marking the mine’s mouth, you forced yourself to pause, turning your head for one last look back. The torchlight illuminated Josh’s face, worn but resolute, a faint, sad smile curling his lips. His eyes locked onto yours, and though he didn’t speak, you saw him mouth the words:
“I love you.”
A quiet sob slipped free from your lips as the weight of everything crashed down. Then, steeling yourself, you turned back toward the exit, pushing open the gate and stepping into the cold night air.
Behind you, the darkness swallowed Josh and the Wendigo, leaving you alone. Alive, but forever marked by what you had left behind.
It had been a month since the night that shattered everything and somehow stitched it all back together again.
You sat on the edge of the park bench, a cup of lukewarm coffee cradled in your hands, the distant noise of traffic and laughter drifting in from the nearby streets. The world kept moving, as if it didn’t know what had happened on that mountain, what you had seen, what you had lost. And maybe it didn’t. Maybe it couldn’t. But you did. Every single second of it was etched into you like scars beneath the skin, invisible but permanent.
Your friends, Mike, Jessica, Sam, Ashley, Chris, Emily, Matt, they were all alive. Shaken, bruised, changed, but alive. That alone felt like a miracle. After everything, it could’ve gone so much worse. It should have.
In the weeks that followed, the group had become something closer than you’d ever expected. Weekly dinners, game nights, long texts sent at 3AM when sleep wouldn’t come. No one said it out loud, but you could all feel it: that need to hold on tight, to not drift apart again. That night had done more than just haunt you, it had tethered you all together with something stronger than fear. Something like survival. Something like love.
But even with the laughter, even in the light of day, Josh lingered in the back of your mind.
His name was never far from your lips in the aftermath. You’d told the police everything, about the mines, about what he’d done, and what he’d tried to undo. About the Wendigo. You left out no detail, hoping someone would understand, someone would look. And they did. At first. But when the terrain turned too dangerous, too unmapped, too strange, the search began to slow. Then stop. And in the end, the only answer they gave was a silent nod and a promise to "keep the file open."
You knew what that meant. You weren’t going to get him back.
Still, part of you couldn’t accept that. You dreamed about the way he looked at you in those final moments, like he’d finally found peace, even in the face of something monstrous. Sometimes you woke up certain he was still out there, alive somehow, hiding in the shadows. Other nights, the dreams were colder. The mine, the scream, the torch’s final flicker. You always woke up before the end.
You took a shaky breath and looked down into your coffee, watching the ripples settle. If there was one good thing to come out of that horror, it was this, these people. Your people. You had nearly lost them, and now you knew better than ever how fragile everything was.
You stood slowly, coffee in hand, the air sharp against your cheeks. The park was nearly empty now, and the soft crunch of leaves beneath your boots felt grounding. Familiar. With each step away from the bench, it was like you could finally breathe again, like you were learning how.
Then, a roar of tires shattered the calm.
A black sedan tore around the corner, engine screaming, the frame rocking slightly as it jerked to a stop just a few feet ahead of you. Your breath caught, heart already leaping into your throat. Instinctively, you took a step back, the coffee sloshing over the rim of the paper cup.
The engine cut off, and the driver’s door burst open.
“Sam?” you called out, confused.
She rounded the front of the car, sprinting toward you. Her face was bloodless, eyes wide with something that looked almost like panic. Or disbelief. She didn’t say anything at first, just stood there in front of you, chest heaving, trying to catch her breath.
You opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, but before you could speak, she reached out, clutching your arm.
“It’s Josh,” she said, voice hoarse and shaking. “They found him.”
︎▶︎ Tyrant, every time I ride it (starring . Dabura)
synopsis . Using his horns like handlebars while you ride him. content . slight/eventual dom f!reader, rough sex, all porn no plot, he gets a lil’ needy, feralness—on both ends, dirty talk, “improper use” of horns (lol), creampies, fucking him stupid, overstim, breeding kink, size kink, man(?)handling, etc. (not proofread)
"So this is what human pussy feels like, hm? How erotic," Dabura hums indifferently as if you weren't currently creaming around his looongly stretching length, gushing all over each widening inch expeditiously. His head merely cocks over some, "And pathetic," He adds, "Can't even take every inch of mine. Is this your best attempt at riding cock? You look as though you're about to cry."
"S-Shut-, ah-, shut up!" You huff out in between moans, lashes fluttering with a delicate sum of wetness already coating each one, "S'not my fault you're so big, asshole."
He laughs right in your face, as if what you'd just said was truly that funny to him. Then there's a faintly gentle smile—a twitch in his lips—that you notice before he says, "I am not big." His vexing eyes begin to trickle down to study the way your cunt is struggling around his veins, sopping each one up deliciously, "You just have a stubborn pussy. But it's cute how hard she tries."
Dabura is entirely unlike anything you ever could have expected and far better than any person you've ever slept with prior, undoubtably so. The only issue here is that it seems impossible to get a different reaction out of him. His eyes rarely ever show any emotion outside of the occasional instant in which his plump cockhead bumps against that particularly juicy spot inside you. It's in the way you gasp and choke over your own breath that makes his otherwise sternly sat expression falter for a second long enough to showcase pleasure.
"Does this help?" He asks after a few more seconds of finding amusement in the way your walls struggle 'n quiver around him, the thick pad of his thumb coming near your clit to swab out the letters of his name, "It's just a couple more inches, pretty thing." Dabura coos all sweetly. The moment he feels your syrupy walls begin to relax a little around him and then sink further, he finally allows you to catch a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "Thereee you go. You asked to ride me so do that—ride. And do it properly."
The alien's large hands are settled on the purchase of your perfectly rocking hips for a while after and although he knows you've been trying (and failing) to get a different reaction out of him for the past few minutes, nothing works until he notices yours hands traveling up all of a sudden. "Oh, w-wait-," He tries to get it out before your fingertips graze the smoothness of his horns. He jerks his head back a bit in an attempt of avoiding the gesture but fails entirely.
The stutter he just let out catches you off guard since that's the first and only time he's ever tripped over his words but, outside of the shock, you're left rather encouraged by the sudden break in his words.
Encouraged enough to wrap your fingers around his horns and get a good grasp on them while drawing your hips high up above his length, that sloppy wet tip of his slipping out of you with something gooey oozing out of the centered slit already.
"Fuck—damn human—I said.. wait," Dabura attempts to warn again. His voice comes out slow ‘n heavy, lacking the previous sense of mockery and amusement he had when this whole thing started. The syllables used to nastily glide off of his tongue but now they’re falling out with an almost pathetic rasp. Hands sliding up to hold your waist firmly, grasping at every stretch of skin available there, he then squeezes as if to warn you or something.
Do you heed said warning?
Fuck no.
Your grip on his horns gets even tighter and he's still trying to tug his head away from you, something suddenly fogging up his gaze as you maintain your hold on him and plop your warmth back down onto his firmly-standing cock. “Let go,” He groans deeply, the sound vibrating against his inked throat. Ignoring the poor alien, you smile and arch forward all sensual-like,
“Mmnh, see? I knew you could make other faces!” You exclaim all excitedly as you drink in the sight of his eyes failing to uphold that hardened look from before.
He couldn't keep up with his glares no matter how hard he tried, not when you've got your palms rubbing up pressed against his horns. No one ever touches them, especially not in a situation like this but, here you are.
He should've known better than to agree with you about doing all this for science or-, whatever bullshit it was you uttered to him before all this. “I demand you release my horns this-, hahh..." His lashes flutter rapidly and his hips begin to unconsciously lift up to meet yours slightly, "—this instant, angh.” Dabura groans.
Now you're the one smiling, “But, mmngh! You feel like you’re enjoying it,” You point out softly just as your hips come flush with his and you start to grind with his cock knocking around your insides, “I wonder what happens if I move my hands… up, like this,” With your little narration, your touch on his horns begins to travel in a way that's far too stimulating.
So much so that Dabura's jaw falls open and something whiny runs out of his throat. “Fuhh-, fuck. Don’t-,” Pausing to swallow thickly, “Don’t stroke them, slut—" He's cut off by the spinning of his own mind. Suddenly, he didn't know where to focus his attention. There was too much pleasure: the sensation of your hands caressing his horns, your pussy greedily gulping in every inch of his all the way down to his deftly sat base, and then the way you squirm in reaction to him being flustered. "Please? I… I meant to say please,” He corrects.
“Awwww," You mock, trying to get back at him for each time he'd done so earlier, "That was a cute attempt at trying to regain control here, really."
Dabura's eyelids lower a bit more, hiding the way his vision is slightly fogging over with something watery, “I could-, mngh.." His jaw tenses tightly enough to flash a vein decorating his sharp jawline, "I could have you under me within seconds. You’re already pushing your luck here, as if it was not you who begged for me like this.” He argues with a sudden thrust upwards.
The motion throws you off your balance for just a second, causing your voice to leave you all shaky-like, “I did n-not beg.”
“You did," He protests further, leaning-, no, slouching back and then letting his sharp fingernails dig into your skin, "You whined for me to let you play around with my cock and now that its toying around inside that sloppy pussy of yours, you’ve the nerve to get—fuck—bold with me.”
“Anh! Dabura-,” You're moaning again while he uses his firm grip on you to fuck himself deeper—impossibly deeper—inside you.
Something whorish splays out across his lips and you think he's drooling for a split second as his shaft ever-so-rudely thump! thump! thumps! against somewhere new, “You should be more appreciative of what I give you," He grunts hotly, maw beginning to dangle open whilst something feral coats his gaze, “Especially when my cock is so snug inside you like this. Can you feel that? The way I kiss the depths of this pussy?”
You hate how swiftly he had you looking like some stupidly-fucked whore on top of him, “Y-Yes, fuck! That feels s’good.”
His brows furrow with true curiosity, “Does it?” He asks, a faint softness caught in his throat. When you start nodding again, he pulls at your body so that you can resume your needy grinding, “Mmh. Prove it to me.” At that, its almost like you snap out of your daze. Your hands don't just grip onto his horns to tease him, no, no. This time around you roll your hips forwards and hold onto his horns just to keep yourself steady. Dabura tries prying his head away from you again, gasping, “Ah-, that’s cheating.”
You ignore him, of course, and with your perfect hold on him, you begin to bouce—frantically so—the sounds of your skin slapping down against his flying throughout the room and leaving everything to sound a slicked mess of sex. “Not my fault you’re sensitive here," You taunt.
“I am not—ohfuck," Dabura tried to fight back this time, he really, really did. But with the way you rut your hips back 'n forth and back 'n forth before switching to that up 'n down, hungry bounce of yours, he just couldn't keep up.
The rest of his taut frame falls into something submissive and he whimpers when you jerk him forward by the horns to match your pace. Husking, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” like a broken little mantra as his pupils blow out and he starts to lean into your touches, “Fuck me good, keep fucking me like this.” He encourages in between the hot flashes of something rigidity and heavy building up inside him, “Yesyesyes-, I’m gonna cum-," The alien gasps with abruptinly bucking hips, "I'm gonna-, mmmgh, fuck!”
You lose your balance again and almost flop forward entirely but his hold on your hips keeps you upright, leaving your hands to gravitate to his face just as a single tear of pleasure rolls out of his left eye. The moment he feels it and you notice it, he starts thrusting up faster in an attempt to distract you from it.
“Ah! Mmgh," You moan, feeling the way he tries exasperatedly to bring you to tears instead, only to fail no matter how many times his cockhead weeps tender thwaks! against your cervix. "Cum inside me?" You choke, "B-But—“
“Wanna stuff you with all of me,” Dabura pours out throatily. It was like talking to a brick wall at this point, he was already smearing something warm 'n creamy into you as he spoke, “You’ll be so pretty with my seed dripping out of you so, please,” Another pitchy gasp cuts through the air, “Take it, let it be yours—for... for science, remember?”
Just then, you almost laugh. You probably would've if you weren't busy agreeing to his babbled words, nodding your head and chuckling, “Uhuhh, cum inside me then. M-Mmnh! For science."
synopsis . In which you get fed up with Sato (fratjo) for playing around with you and unintentionally get involved with his identical twin brother Toru (nerdjo), not knowing they’re simply two sides of the same coin.
content . afab!reader, porn with decent plot, messy relationship(s), fratjo’s an asshole in the beginning, bluntness, pervy!nerdjo, eventual threesome, degrading, oral sex, first time squirting & then doing it multiple times, getting caught, surprising dynamics, praise, pussy slapping, getting put in a headlock, confessions, filthy dirty talk, jealousy, marathon sex (gulp), spit, slightly bimbo!reader, choking, nerdjo is feral, full nelson, edging, getting passed around, frajo’s a voyeur, filth, slight angst, cum eating/swallowing, some cuckholding(?), masturbation, a silly ending, etc.
word count . 11.4k | author's note: this ended up being wayyyy longer than i initially thought it would be and it’s overly freaked the fuck out. hope you enjoy!! banner art by Rororogi Mogera. (not proofread—sorry in advance, truly)
In your defense, you didn't think he would care.
Sato Gojo—esteemed member of Sigma Chi, infamously known for his commitment issues, and noted to be the campus playboy—was the last person you thought would care about you sleeping with his twin brother.
Hell, he's also the last person who expected that same brother to be able to get this far with you. Toru is the shyest, dorkiest, and nerdiest part of the Gojo family, what could he possibly have done to catch your eye?
Sato had done his best to keep you away from and unaware of his six-second-younger brother's existence too. Yet somehow, here he is walking in on the two of you fucking in his bed.
Less upset at the sight and more confused, the only thing he wants to know is... what the fuck led up to this pairing?
——
For months and months prior to that, it'd been the same thing between you and Sato.
“She doesn’t mean anything to me, baby. You know you’re my favorite,” He’d say, cooing you with that manipulatively charming voice of his after you’d asked him about yet another woman he was talking to.
You weren't sure why you kept going back to him. He never told you how he felt about you unless he was inside you—and even then you’re certain those feelings were all sex-based and moderately untrue.
Yet something about him kept drawing you back in.
And if you had to guess what exactly it was...
“Fuuck, y’like that don’t you?” He’d groan, having one big hand clasped around your throat as he plowed you into the mattress. Sato rarely ever took his time during sex, too eager to make sure you cum & keep up his reputation of being a good fuck. “Like the way my cock kisses that sweet spot, huh?”
The rhythmic sound of his pelvis smack smack smacking! against your ass echoes throughout the room at a pitch almost louder than your sapped moans. “Mhmm,” You'd hummed in response, fingernails dug into the bedsheets below.
You couldn't bring yourself to think about all the other women that's been in this same exact position before you when his cock was far too busy gliding in and out of your soaking pussy. The same sheets your fingers are clawing at is also clasped in between your teeth tightly, drool wetting up the fabric pathetically due to how good you felt.
Only to be rudely interrupted by his hand gripping at your neck tighter and then tugging the upper half of your body allll the way up—his chest pressing into your back while his dick massages the gushiest spot inside you. “Don’t do that,” Sato huffs with that shit-eating grin on his face, “Speak up, pretty girl. I couldn't hear you.”
“Uhuhh, yes,” You pant, tongue beginning to dangle out of your mouth all whorishly, “I love it, Sato.”
Cocky like always, he'd let off that amused scoff and then nip at your ear playfully, “Yeahh, I know you do. Jus’ can’t get enough of me.”
Thinking back again, he had the biggest ego you’d ever seen.
Sato was tenderly humping the rest of his thick cock into you while you were nice and close, just to realize after the first few thrusts that you were trying to inch yourself away from him—your moans getting airier by the second.
His smile widened, “Hah, where’re you goin’?” He'd only made you cum three times since the two of you got here. Surely that wasn't enough to have you acting like this already. “Look at you, trying to run from me now," Sato scoffed with faux bitterness.
You barely got a moment to process what he was doing before you choked.
Warm lips pressing against your ear, “C’mon, I jus’ want one more outta’ you,” He purred, his arm slow to wrap around your neck while his bulking muscles pressed into the center of your throat. Whatever oxygen was on its way to your head all but died out as the man put you into a bullying chokehold and then flexed.
Your cunt squeaked juicily around him and his cockhead nudged in deeper because of the hold he had on you, otherwise rendering your body unable to escape.
That was one of many reasons why you always ran back to him. If Sato Gojo didn't know how to do anything else right, he damn sure knew how to fuck.
“Mhmm, that’s it, baby." His voice was huskier against your eardrums now and you felt your body shuddering with a sense of numbness as something slicker oozed around his shaft. "Take that fuckin’ cock—juuust like that.”
His thrust became slower while he held you in place and you'd never felt so full in your life. It wasn't until he suddenly snapped up into you that all air left your lungs and your eyes crossed.
Whatever sound you let out was beyond pathetic and only followed by a desperate, “S’too much,” that he could barely hear.
Rolling his eyes, he repeated the motion a few more times at a steady pace, letting you adjust to being arched and folded up how he wants you. “My dramatic girl, acting like you haven't been taking it just fine," He reminded you.
You almost believed him for a moment there until his free hand came snaking around your torso to press against your lower abdomen—right over the bulge his fat cock had created against your skin—and applying an egregious amount of pressure.
“M’gonna cum, Sato,” You cried out as his fingers slithered down to nudge against your clit. Never a firm rub or anything like that since he felt like his cock alone was enough to work what he wanted out of you.
He’d smile all victoriously and whisper, “That's it? Don't tell me you're still too scared to squirt on me?”
Truth be told, that was the one thing he couldn’t do for some reason.
He never said anything but he thinks maybe you’re just one of those women who need a little more effort put into in order to make you squirt. More effort of which he damn sure doesn’t feel like putting in.
Four orgasms in a row? That’s fine, he can do that no problem. Making you squirt? As badly as he wants to deep down inside, he just can’t.
You ended up leaving a creamy mess around his cock but it's not the spurting stream of wetness he was hoping for. After letting you tremble out of your high, he's slow with the way he unwraps his arms from around you.
You fall forward onto the bed and let out a heavy breath before smiling wearily in relief. No other guy on campus ever managed to make you cum even once so of course you didn't think much of the fact that Sato couldn't make you squirt.
Hell, you were unknowingly on the same page with him—thinking you might've needed extra effort put in for that kinda release. Which was fine, you didn't need that much from him. The fact that he could make you cum back to back was more than enough in your book.
Not his though.
Sato hated it. He hated how he couldn't make you squirt—the fact burned at his ego and wounded his pride greatly. He's made other women do it so he doesn't understand what the problem is. There were some nights where he wondered if maybe he was doing something wrong with you. Or maybe you'd found someone else who could—
He unknowingly scoffs at his thoughts, shuffling out of the bed and swiping up the nearest clean sweats to slip into. Who was he kidding? There isn't one other person on campus you'd go to over him.
And if he couldn't make you squirt, he knows there's no one else that could.
Amid his deep thoughts, you happen to look over and catch the way those white brows of his are neatly knitting together. He didn't even realize how his true feelings on the matter were written all over his face.
Your eyes had ran over him a couple times, pondering on all the scratch marks in various places. Places that your hands haven't touched.
And that's how the routine was with the two of you; high tension all throughout the day, let him fuck you 'til all your senses went numb, and then fade into quietness with little to talk about since Sato doesn't deem it necessary to get close with you in that way.
When you catch the way he's dragging his feet around the room, trying to clean the mess of clothes you two made prior to getting in the bed, your brows lifts with curiosity. Asking gently, "Hey, are you alright?"
Sato hums without turning around to you, running his a hand through his hair as if stressed out. "Yeah, m'fine." He grunts, glancing over at you after and adding a slightly comforting, "Are you?"
You nod in response to him and he stares for a moment longer than necessary, still deep in his thoughts about something he surely wasn't sharing with you anytime soon.
Why would he? You didn’t need to know that he was beating himself up over something so stupid. He’s well aware that he’s the best guy to ever sleep with you so, opening up to you about something so trivial wasn’t in his character.
There’d been jokes and banter between the two of you before—obviously—but it never went any further than that. The moment things threatened to dip into something real, something more tender or honest, Sato would shut it down with quick precision.
Which is exactly why you didn't try pressing for more of this dry conversation. Instead, you silently watched him tug a shirt over his head and then head over to the nightstand for his phone.
He's busy texting someone for a bit before he releases a huff and turns his head to see the way you've been quietly watching him, "Did you want me to run you a bath or—"
"No, no, I told you, I'm fine," You unintentionally cut off.
You weren't sure where the awkwardness had come from but it wasn't completely unwelcome since there was clearly something he wasn't telling you. You saw it in the way he pouted all grumpily just before looking at you.
Whatever was on his mind had to be eating him up on the inside.
Not that the frown pushed you to ask him anything else though. You ended up turning over and rolling off is bed a few minutes later to gather your things and leave, to which he'd peacefully helped you with.
Then Sato escorted you all the way out of his maze-like home and was "kind" enough to give you a kiss on the forehead before sending you off.
Little things like that always caught you off guard. Your heart would do that weird thing in your chest as you wondered if there was a possibility of experiencing more than just hook-ups with the man.
Though, reality is quick to slap you back to your senses when you see him with his arm around some other woman the next day while on your way to class.
You knew better than to get emotionally attached to Sato Gojo. Everyone did.
——
Some days later is when shit decides to hit the fan between you two.
It happens so randomly that you almost feel as though you dreamt the whole thing up. The day starting with him texting you to come over that night and somehow ending with you in thwarted tears.
In all the time you spent with Sato, there'd never been a moment where he was blatantly selfish. Something of which surprised you in the beginning of your relationship since he was known to be a fuckboy.
Yet, ending up in his bedroom for the nth time, as his thumb rubbed at your clit with unsteady, jerky motions, appearing otherwise annoyed about something—Sato had been selfish for the first time with you.
Foreplay was skipped entirely and you should've known something was up from that alone.
The most you got out of him prior to being stripped of your clothing was a messy kiss and a barely audible, "Need somethin' from you, baby," grunted into your mouth.
Then you were being carried all the way up to his bedroom, handled frustratedly down into the mattress, and soon fucked at a rate you weren't used to.
His thrusts were sloppy and needy, voice quiet since he didn't bother talking you through it or saying anything at all, and the only thing with a sense of normalcy to it was the way his thumb nudged over your clit as his cock dove in and out of you.
Midway through, you assumed he just had a bad day or something. Figured he wanted to take some of that stress out on you.
And that wasn't out of the ordinary for him, it's happened more often than not.
But as his thumb drew desperate circles around your twitching bud, Sato's cock twitched and he pulled out the moment you were about to cum. You were too dazed by his abrupt action that you nearly missed the way he stroked himself into finishing on your stomach and then scoffed. Bitterly.
Your eyes were glossed over since the taste of your own orgasm had been right there on the tip of your nerves, stripped away from you faster than you could blink.
Whatever had been bothering him about having sex with you was felt before it was understood.
He was already turning away by the time you pushed yourself to sit up, the sheets gliding down your arms as you watched him with wide, teary eyes. The room felt ten times quieter than it normally did. You saw how he crossed the room as if nothing had happened—as if this was just another unremarkable moment to be shrugged off.
"Sato," You say, his name tripping in your throat on the way out.
Only then did he pause, fingers curled around his drawer handle. Not sparing you a glance back, "What." he breathed out.
It was hardly even a response, more of a wall you'd audibly stumbled into. You'd never heard his voice so dull and flat with you.
Swallowing down whatever confusing emotions were building up in your throat, "Did I, um... did I do something wrong?"
Somehow that gets his attention. He glances back over his shoulder then, expression insipid and eyes casting over you all bored-like. "Don't start that," He said, irritation weaving into his voice, "You're overthinking shit already."
Your mouth opens to say something but it's like you'd been slapped in the face, leading your lips to seal shut for a second. His words were too heavy for you, coming off with weighted dismissiveness.
After a few beats, your words trail out slowly, "Sorry I'm a little confused, Sato. You asked me to come over for that..?"
He exhaled sharply, like the question itself had tired him, "What else do I ever call you over for?"
Something shrewd twisted in your chest, "Certainly not whatever the fuck that was just now."
Sato finally turned more fully and leaned back against his dresser, crossing his arms and letting his eyes meet yours firmly. "You sound upset."
"I feel used," You'd snapped back immediately.
His brow twitched, "'Cause I didn't make you cum?"
Again, the words came off blunt and careless.
Leading you to flinch internally, "I mean—yeah," You said as a humorless breath tiptoed out, "You normally do."
"Well, I didn't feel like it today. M'spent." He scoffed out.
It was almost as if that was supposed to be an explanation for everything.
You stared at him and felt the way your disbelief began to fade into something of anger, "You could've told me that."
"Would that have made you feel any better?" Every response came out of him like he'd rehearsed the entire conversation beforehand.
"We could've done something different," Your hands began to curl into the sheets a little, trying to steady yourself. "I could've-"
"I didn't want anything different." Sato cut off crisply.
You'd never been so utterly confused in your life. Everything was fine before this—for the most part—so what had come over him all of a sudden? Why was he acting like this?
The finality in his statement only made your stomach drop, your head shaking slowly in disbelief, "...So you wanted to use m-"
"No, sweetheart," The pet name sounds empty on his tongue, lacking its usual affection. "I wanted you to see how it feels to get into something thinking things are going to go like they always do, just to feel disappointed by the end."
The next sound that spreads throughout the room is your laughter as it exits you in incredulous fashion, "Sato, what the fuck are you talking about?"
He dragged a hand through the white tuffs of his hair, pacing only once before coming to a stop. "You..." Letting his words trail off, he released a long and stressed-out sigh, "Every woman I've been with has never had the problem you do."
That hits you square in the chest.
Head cocking back as you frown with immediate offense flaring over, "Excuse me? Are you... are you talking about squirting, Sato? You can't be serious."
"I am," He said without hesitation. "If it's just something you can't do, I'd rather you tell me than making me look like an idiot when we fuck."
"What?" Your eyes narrowed as your anger bled into something strictly hurt. "I... I'm sure I can. Maybe we're just doing something wro-"
"We?" Sato cuts you off instantly. Then his tone seemed firmer and you knew he didn't think things through when he said, "No, no, you've got shit backwards here. I can assure you I'm not doing anything wrong, that's all you."
Something inside you finally boiled over.
"All me?" You scoffed, pushing yourself out of the bed. The cold air wrapping itself around you felt like even more of a wake-up call than what he'd just said. "Oh, sorry for not being like all the other twenty girls you sleep with."
Grabbing your clothes with uncoordinated and janky movements after wiping away any lingering trace of what had happened, you subconsciously wished you could've erased the moment entirely from start to finish. Your hands trembled as you got dressed, seemingly more from the heated emotions waving through you than the embarrassment.
Sato stiffened upon hearing your words. For the first time—probably in his life—his confidence had cracked. "Shit—wait," He rushed out, trying to step towards you and stop you from leaving.
It was almost like he himself wasn't aware of how severely fucked up his actions and words were.
His hand reached out for your arm, "I-I didn't mean it like that, c'mon. I just—"
"Save it, asshole." You spat back at him, shoving his hand out the way and storming out his room before giving him a chance to say anything else.
He'd said more than enough to have your vision blurry and heart pounding in your chest as if pained.
The hallway was dim, your footsteps quickened to carry you as far away from him as possible, and your emotions buzzed all too loudly in your ears for you to think straight. You think you hear something clash against the wall back in Sato's room but you ignore it.
You're so wrapped up in your feelings that you're not even paying attention to where you're going. You only made it a few steps down the hall before you collided with something solid.
Someone solid.
Gasping as you stumble back, a pair of hands come up to steady you. "Ah, sorry," a voice hums out to you. The sound is soft as it reverberates throughout the hallway but your chest feels as though it's caving inwards since the guy in front of you sounded exactly like Sato.
There was a pitch of unfamiliarity in it, though. One that made you look up.
For a moment, you thought maybe you'd fallen off the bed earlier and that everything thus far had been some type of hallucination because surely Sato wasn't standing right in front of you right now.
...Except, with glasses? And a dorkier look in his eyes?
With the same snowy white hair, the same perfectly sharp jawline—that's somehow a tad softer—and the same dazzling blue eyes, he stared at you all longingly as if an angel had fallen right into his arms or something. The only difference between him and his brother being the black glasses sitting center on the bridge of his nose.
Despite the hallway's lack of lighting, you swear you see his cheeks flush with red as the moment of exchanged staring passes.
Prior to this, you'd only ever heard rumors of Sato having a twin brother but you never once imagined those would turn out to be true. The man's eyes widen slightly as he really looks at you, confusion flickering across his face whilst he takes in your flushed skin, the way your clothes are hanging off of you as though you'd rushed to put them all, and how your eyes are somberly glossed over.
"I-," You try to blink that wetness out of your gaze and then clear your throat. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going."
"It's fine," He replies as he thoughtlessly continues to hold onto your arms. Then, uncertainly, "You're... Sato's, uh—"
"Sato's what?" You cut off harsher than you meant to.
There was no way he was about to refer to you as that asshole's girlfriend or anything like that, right?
His mouth visibly goes taut, realizing he was about to step into something fragile. Instead of responding, he just stands there awkwardly enough to piss you off even more.
Groaning, you push past him and continue storming down the hall. You didn't have time for whatever that was about to turn into.
Unbeknownst to you, he'd stood there and watched as you walked away—cursing himself out for letting his opportunity to talk to you pass him by like that. He'd known who you were for months prior to this. Out of all the women Sato brought over, you were the only one Toru took a genuine interest in.
It's unfortunate for him that Sato's a stingy asshole who doesn't care to introduce the two of you. Because of that, Toru had to go out of his way just to get glimpses of your personality.
He was always home when Sato brought you over, always in his room that's just one wall over while the two of you fucked—listening and secretly getting off to those gorgeous moans you let off. Toru knew it was perverted of him to do so, but he truly couldn't help himself.
Now here he is with sagging shoulders at the fact that he totally fucked up his first interaction with you.
He heard the whole argument between you and his brother and came out into the hallway hoping to come to your rescue or at least cheer you up, even if only for a second. Yet, all he managed to do was piss you off with his awkwardness and lack of confident social skills.
After a few minutes, Toru straightens up and settles his jaw in a way that says he'd made some type of silent decision. That wasn't going to be the last time he interacted with you—no matter how badly his brother fucked up—he knew you'd be back eventually.
As he turns back to his room, he promises to himself that next time he sees you, he won't hesitate or fumble things with you.
——
A few weeks pass before anything else noteworthy occurs.
In that time, things between you and Sato remain rocky, to say the utmost least. Conversations between the two of you were more careful, apologies came far slower than they should've, and some semblance of trust had been rebuilt in uneven steps.
Sometimes he was sweet and more attentive than he had been before that big argument, kinda like he was afraid it'd happen again. Other times he'd slip up and those old habits would seep through, any excuse he gave you dressed up charmingly enough for you to ultimately end up forgiving him again.
The fact that you both were trying had to be enough to count for something, otherwise the two of you were better off calling it quits months ago.
Somewhere in the middle of that relationship, Toru became familiar to you. You went out of your way to see him whenever you visited the Gojo estate, even if you were only there for Sato.
He was almost always cooped up in his room, drowning himself in his studies—textbooks stacked neatly on his desk, handwritten notes color-coded and meticulously organized.
It wasn't long before you realized he and his brother were complete opposites. Where Sato excelled in partying and socializing, Toru peaked in academics and hobbies that were far more niche.
You remember poking your head into his room one time to say hi and catching him lost in Digimon reruns with strategy guides pulled up on his nearby laptop. He was so engrossed in it that he hadn't even heard you saying something to him.
Situations like that are what got the two of you to be something close to friends.
Though, you still didn't know him any more than you knew Sato. You were still kept at an arm's length from either of their personalities beyond what was noticeable. Sato made sure of that where both he and his twin were concerned.
While he did soften up with you, he still wasn't interested in keeping you that close—not close enough to know him. And he damn sure wouldn't let you go off and try to find that in Toru.
Anytime you and the nerdier Gojo sibling were alone, Sato was intruding minutes later. Always interrupting.
Even when you ran into Toru on campus.
One time when you found him outside the library, standing near a vending machine and ran up to talk to him, Sato seemed to spawn out of thin air with his arm around you is if to silently tell his brother to fuck off.
You weren't sure what had gotten into him as far as that was concerned. He didn't care when you talked to anyone else.
This was but another unfortunate thing for you since you were quite fond of Toru. He remembered little things about you; your major, your favorite cafe, and even your preferred place to sit in lecture halls.
If you asked Sato questions about any of those things, he'd probably shrug and ask you why any of it matters in the first place.
But you bet that dick for brains could tell you which position makes you cum the fastest...
It's regrettably because of that as to why you're currently standing at the large front doors to his home, having rung the bell only a few seconds ago due to an earlier text requesting you come over.
In said text, Sato promised that he only wanted to talk to you and you chose to believe him.
Just for Toru to swing the door open with a surprised look on his face.
"Oh, hey." He began, pushing his glasses further up on his face so that he could get a proper look at you. "If you're looking for Sato, he's not here. I actually think he's been gone for the past three hours or so."
Disappointment settles into you and you roll your eyes, already annoyed. "Of course he has," You sigh.
Toru offers you a half-comforting grin before stepping back a bit and opening the door wider for you, "He'll probably be back soon though, if you wanna come in?"
You debated leaving but the prospect of being able to spend some alone time with Toru is what swayed you into staying.
Which is how you ended up in their living room.
The rest of the house was quieter than Sato ever allowed it to be. There was no music blaring, none of his restless pacing or constant yammering about fuck knows what. The only thing heard was the low hum of the TV ahead of you and Toru.
He'd put on a movie a few minutes ago and although you'd agreed to watch it with him, you kept glancing towards the front door hoping to see Sato walk in any moment now.
It never happens.
Sitting on the opposite ends of the couch, you and Toru are steady to find comfort in one another's presence. You eventually let yourself focus on what he'd put on, snorting whenever he laughed at the unfunniest bits of it and finding yourself mused by the easiness of it all.
You noticed how Toru also tried to sneak his eyes onto you here and there, lacking that smoothness his slightly older brother had and always catching your attention when he did it.
The two of you even shared those warm moments where you'd catch him staring and then whisper, "What, is something on my face?"
To which he'd swallow thickly and shake his head, "No, not at all. Sorry..."
His shyness is probably what drew you in the most about him. You loved how often he avoided eye contact with you, how gentle his voice always came out, and the way he'd begin to adjust himself against the couch due to the smallest of things.
The night was going well enough for you to forget all about—
Your phone rang and Sato's name was lighting up your screen.
At the sight, your shoulders went tense and you were unsure if you should answer it or not. Toru looked over at you but he didn't say anything.
The movie continued to play ahead as you picked up the phone and quietly spoke to Sato, "What?"
Whatever was said to you on the other end made your jaw clench—something of which Toru noted instantly. He didn't mean to be nosy but it was hard not to when minutes passed and you were clearly getting frustrated about your conversation.
"You sound drunk," You're heard muttering, making Toru's ears perk up and then strain to hear more.
Sato is just barely heard grumbling in response, "M'not drunk, baby."
Your shoulders slump, "Did you even mean to text me?"
There's a long pause. Toru tenses up and Sato's heard burping.
"I texted you?" The man on the phone asks, making your entire mood sink. "Hahhh, fuck. I don' remember doing that.. What uh, what'd I say?"
"You said you needed to talk." You reply rigidly.
He nods even though you can't see him, "Ah... I mean, I do need to talk to you but," Pausing to grumble, "Don't see why I didn't jus' call.. Anyway, s-so yesterday I was with this girl 'n she said m'not doin' anything wrong."
His early attempt at trying to convince you he wasn't drunk fell flat in that instant. You stare into space for a moment, "What?"
"Remember how we got into it about your squirting problem?" Sato blurts out in response.
You could feel yourself getting irritated with him all over again. You hated the way he said that like it was truly an issue on your end alone, even though the two of you have talked about it after the argument.
"My squirting problem? You mean the fact that you can't get me there?" You snapped back, matching his energy for just a second and unintentionally gaining the dull attention of his nosy brother.
At this point, you don't think you cared whether or not he overheard.
"No, no, I cannnn..." Sato drags out drunkenly. Then you hear this giggle in the background before he adds, "This girl told me it really is you 'n not me. Because like-"
You hang up the phone before he can continue.
The last thing you wanted to do was entertain whatever the fuck he was about to tell you for any longer than you had to. Your phone falls down into your lap and you feel it buzzing a few seconds later but you only swipe it back up to silence it entirely.
After which, the room falls into a thick quietness that swallows up both you and Toru. Even the movie playing ahead had switched to a soundless scene that only added to the shift in moods.
A few minutes of this stillness pass before you feel the weight on the other side of the couch shifting. Your eyes flick over and you see him readjusting himself in his seat.
You don't question it nor say anything but his sudden movements do manage to pull you out of your funk for a second. Ignoring it, you pick your phone back up to see that Sato had texted you a bunch of gibberish—the only sensible message you can make out being one of him begging you to text or call back.
As soon as you start typing, his twin decides to clear his throat again.
“I mean, it can’t be that hard.” Toru says all timidly, his words catching enough to snag your attention away from your phone.
Your thumb goes idle against the screen and you look up at him to see his cheeks colored over with bright red. He was looking off to his left and you could tell by the rapid rise and fall of his chest that his breathing had gone off-track.
Clearly, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
You chuckle as if intrigued by his words, humming, “Your brother said the same thing."
Toru scoffs and then speaks without thinking again, “He doesn’t care enough.”
Cocking a brow, “Doesn’t care enough to make me squirt?” You ask.
The sound of the man’s breath hitching was clearer than the dense tension between you both. “Obviously not,” Toru continues, lifting two slim fingers up to the center of his glasses to adjust them against his nose. “If he did, he would’ve made sure you… uh, did that.”
Never would you have expected to have this kind of conversation with the same man who can barely look you in the eye. But it was clear something had changed. Even in his body language, you saw how he'd sat up a bit straighter against the couch and let his legs sprawl out wider—almost invitingly so.
He was still avoiding your gaze but the sturdiness in his voice is what intrigued you the most.
“Did what, Toru? Say it,” You pressed, putting your phone down and turning on the couch to face him fully.
You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with the way he gulped thickly. “He would’ve uhm..." Toru pauses to take a deep breath—mentally reminding himself that he swore not to embarrass himself in front of you again—and then clears his throat one more time, "He would've made sure you squirted.”
Too shy to look at you just yet, he misses how the look in your eyes changes entirely. It was like seeing him in a new light.
Not that you hadn't thought about it before. He does look exactly like Sato and there's been a few times where you've wondered what it'd be like to be the cause of his glasses going crooked 'n foggy.
Biting back a smile, “Well, he makes me cum a lot.” You explain to him casually. Certainly Toru wouldn't have started talking to you about this if he didn't at least have some advice for you, “Like, back to back.”
He nods, nimble fingers fidgeting over one another in his lap, “Then, he just doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
You bat your lashes at him all cluelessly, “But—“
“As I said the first time,” Toru looks at you all of a sudden, his eyes mildly terrified behind his frames despite the attempt of confidence spreading over his face. There was a devilishly sexy blend of sureness and hesitancy plastered all over his features, “It can’t be that hard.”
The direct eye contact and few inches of space between where you two were sitting made everything feel hot all of a sudden. Blush melts itself into his skin again and it was clear that this initiated flirting of his was a first time thing.
You knew Toru found you intimidating and that subconsciously accepted fact only made you want to see more. More of your affect on him.
Sliding closer to him on the couch, your voice slyly dips into something more taunting, “You sound like you wanna try.”
Watching the way his jaw flexes, teeth tightly gritted within his mouth, and throat struggling to conceal the high-pitched sound that threatened to jump out of him—your affect on the man was as clear as day.
Somehow, Toru manages to maintain his confident facade, “Would you let me if I did?”
“Do you?” You ask quicker than he expects you to.
His head felt like it was spinning already. Is this what it's like to do drugs? Does his brother get to experience this all the time?
Toru gulps again, “Do I.. what?”
Now he was playing dumb on purpose, as if he wasn't the one who commenced this whole thing with his earlier statement.
Which makes you giggle, “You’re the smartest guy I know, Toru." Your compliment makes his heart skip a few beats. Then your head tilts and your tone softens, "Don’t start acting dumb just to appeal to me.”
He bats those pretty white lashes at you with his eyes all doe-like on you for a moment before he looks down, “I just… I wanted to hear you say it.”
You stand up from the couch all of a sudden and he freezes up. Then you walk over and stand right in between his legs, moving a hand to his chin and forcing his head up. “Do you wanna try making me squirt?”
Toru shakes his head and your brows furrow. His face nuzzles into your hand, forcing it to spread open as his cheek presses into your palm, “It’s not something to be tried, it’s just something I can do for you.” He explains.
Your thumb brushes against his cheek and his glasses slip down his nose a bit. Smiling, “Someone's confident.”
He merely whispers, “‘Can’t be that hard.”
——
Ten minutes later and you're wondering why he wasn't the first Gojo twin you met.
Loong fingers stretching your pussy out crudely, hot tongue attacking your clit like he wanted to lick you into numbness, and eyes still doe-like as they remain glued up on your face—Toru was nothing like his slightly older brother.
No, no, he aimed not only to please but to learn how you like to be pleased.
Whereas Sato would just sleep with you the same way he did with anyone else—beyond confident in his own abilities to bring a woman pleasure—Toru was the kinda man who took his time to work you up specifically.
“Taste s’good,” He praised in a tone deeper than you knew to be capable from him. You were laying across the couch now and he was stuffed neatly in between your legs. Whining, “More,” as he tugged at your thighs, his jaw going slack, and his mouth smearing against your cunt. “Gimme’ more—mmpfh. Please?"
You weren't sure what more he could be referring to when his fingertips were already twirling something sinful against your g-spot. You had a hand buried into his hair, your other behind you as you held onto the couch to steady yourself with the way he feasted on you as if your pussy was the best thing to wet up his tongue.
“Ah, T-Toru, fuck!” You cried out, unconsciously pulling away from him when his fingers focused in deep against that soppy spot—addicted to the way your slick gushed out around his hand and left a sweet mess against the couch.
His fingers leave your insides for only a second and a half before he's shoving them into his mouth to suck the taste off. Toru's eyes rolled back for a moment before he let both of his hands redirect to your inner thighs and then spread you out wider just so nothing was obstructing your view of the way he sloppily kissed your cunt.
Small strings of aroused filth would hang in between his mouth and your puffy pussylips, all of which would get licked off by his eager tongue before he dove back in for more.
Before you'd let him make his way down there, you recall the way he oh-so-awkwardly kissed you. He hardly had a clue what to do with his tongue when it was against yours but now that he was in between your legs, he became an entirely different person.
Suckling the dewy tastes into his mouth and guzzling it down his throat just to let it linger, Toru was nothing short of desperate to make you feel good. So much so that his brain practically turns off as he moves his hands to grip your hips and then lifts the lower half of your body up against his face.
His mouth nuzzled harder against you and you felt the wiggling tip of his tongue slap against your clenching walls. He softly humped the couch as he ate you out, letting the sounds of your moans coax him into giving you everything he could.
Toru only pulled away from your cunt when his glasses fogged up too much for him to see your face. And before you could offer to wipe them off or anything, you met his gaze with the way his head angled for you to do so.
His voice deep and aching, “Sit on my face,” He requested before whining again. “Pleasepleaseplease,” the man panted almost puppy-like and then seared his next words right into your clit with the edge of his tongue, “Need it s’bad.”
You don't think you had it anywhere in you to deny him when he was asking so nicely like that.
But by the time the two of you had flipped over and you were left hovering over his pleasantly flushed face—his shaky hands tight against your hips—you were a little too nervous to sit down.
Toru had caught his breath by now but nothing about his starved appetite had changed. Those previously soft blue eyes of his seemed to pierce straight through you in a way that Sato's sometimes would. You know they're twins and all but fuck, it was nerve-wracking to experience that hungry look from the alleged "shy" twin.
“Ride it," Toru husked out all of a sudden, giving your body the faintest pull.
Your eyes went all wide, “…Your mouth?”
Instead of clarifying things or being patient with you, he snatches your frame down with a strength you didn't know he possessed. Moaning before your core even reaches his lips again, “Want you to feed your pussy to me.”
Then he was practically suctioned to you again, eyes rolling back far enough for the whites to be visible beneath the foggy frames of his glasses.
“Ohfuck,” You cry out, the upper half of your body slumping forward a bit as your thighs squeeze around his head.
You felt the way Toru smiled at the feeling, almost like he was exactly where he'd wanted to be. His tongue skated up into you with a vigor you'd never felt before.
The man ate pussy like he wanted the results of your release plastered all over those pretty glasses of his, leaving him with sogged vision and a numbed tongue. It was yet another thing that made him so much different than his brother because although that man had stamina like no other and knew how to use his cock, he never once ate you out.
Meanwhile Toru couldn’t seem to get enough.
He even left a needy smack to your ass, encouraging you to do as he initially asked of you and ride his face. It wasn’t until his tongue was constantly plunging past your glissading folds that you unconsciously rolled your hips forward and earned a whimper from him in response.
Then the hands on your hips began to tug at you again, not even begging you for more but demanding it now.
You could no longer focus on the way he looked with splashes of your slick spread out on his glasses in nasty droplets since the tip of his nose had bumped up against your clit, and his jaw went slack just to adhere to your drooling nerves.
The sensation made your entire body flinch, but he wouldn’t let you pull up. For the nth time, you were stunned by Toru’s strength.
His tongue was thick and gathering against your pussy, not letting a singular drop of your taste escape his mouth until something light ghosted out of you.
“S-Something feels-, nngh,” Your struggles were just the cutest thing. “Different.” You tried to warn him.
His head tilted slightly and you felt his lips curve against you again as he smiled knowingly. Plucking his mouth away from you for the first time in forever with a wet pop!, Toru let his warm breath pat your quivering hole as he whispered, “It’s supposed to feel different, sweet girl. That’s what happens when you come to the right twin.”
Cocky. You never knew Toru had that in him—must be a trait that runs into family.
Except, it’s not like he was wrong. Once he lathered his tongue back in and sucked on your cunt like it was the only thing keeping him sane, you felt that coiling burn building up inside you. You knew you were gonna squirt despite never experiencing it before.
But it felt like too much, made you feel dirty as you neared that shattering edge. So much so that you tried so hard to snatch yourself away from Toru, whining excessively only for each sound to fall on completely deaf ears.
Your legs had clamped around his head so tight that he was getting lightheaded from his lack of oxygen—not that he cared. He had one singular goal and nothing was gonna stop him from reaching it.
It wasn’t long before it happened as his complimenting moans turned into graveling groans. The sounds vibrated against your pussy and you were tongue-fucked right into something blissful. Bleary white streaks coated your vision and you think you would’ve fallen over if not for the mean grasp he had on you.
Toru had done it, he managed to make you squirt.
By the time your brain feels like it’s functioning enough to hold a conversation, you let your vision come back to you and look down to see his soaked face.
His eyes are dazed whilst they peer up at you, appreciation swirling through his pupils. Those same glasses you’ve managed to squirt over are now crooked and you wonder if that’s from the way you unconsciously started rutting your hips forward just a few minutes ago.
Toru didn’t do anything but pant heavily—his breath stuttering here and there due to how long he went without breathing properly. When he finds the energy to send you another boyish grin, you feel a wave of embarrassment flutter over.
“Shit,” You huff, slowly moving from over his face and then grabbing his glasses.
With his face revealed, you saw how unfairly pretty he was with content written into his skin.
Then he chuckles softly, “You don’t have t’clean those.” Toru tells you, tone mumbled.
You were trying to wipe his glasses off with your shirt but he’d moved his hand to your wrist to stop you.
“I like the mess,” he added.
After which you’re stuck staring at him while he takes the wet glasses out of your hand and puts them back on his face. Surely there’s some hygienic concerns to take into consideration here but he’s not at all worrying about that right now.
Not with the painfully hard cock he’s got twitching in between his legs.
He wasn’t gonna tell you out of fear you’d assume he was some kinda loser (he is) but, not only did he cum half-way through eating you out, he also got hard again when that messy stream came pouring out of you.
Toru’s never made a woman squirt before but he did study enough videos to—clearly—figure out how it’s done. He didn’t think it would work so easily with you since all he had to use was his tongue but considering the way you just-
“Can you do that again?” Your voice hits his ears all of a sudden and his eyes widen.
“W-What?” Toru chokes, “You uh, you want me to make you squirt again?”
You nod and then move to sit back a little, not exactly in his lap but still close enough for your body heat to mingle. Your finger trails down the center of his torso slowly as you speak, “It felt really good. I wanna do it again,” You requested almost innocently. “But, on your cock this time.”
He doesn’t know how he managed not to cum at the sound of that.
Toru knew you were bold, he knew you could be a bit of a ditz at time, but fuck—did you have any idea of the things you were asking for sometimes?
Mustering up that faux confidence from before, he leans up and hums. “Alright, yeah… I can do that.” He thinks. Not that he’ll admit his lack of assuredness to you though. His hands simply move against your body and you hardly realize what’s going on until he’s swooped you up in his arms. “But not here.”
You blink dumbfoundedly, “Why not?”
“I have a better idea.”
——
When he said that, you didn’t think the better idea in question would be having sex in his brother’s room.
You recognized the path there as Toru carried you, felt the familiarity when he laid you down on the bed, and smelled the same scent of Sato lingering around even as Toru tried to distract you with kisses.
It seemed to be surprise after surprise with this man.
“I think after all the times I’ve had to hear the two of you fuck,” Toru’s hands were running down your body—his touch smoother than his brother’s ever were. “It’s only fair that I make you squirt in the same place he never could, right?”
Too many thoughts of sin swirled in your head for you to answer that properly so all you did was nod your head again. Which was yet another thing he found cute.
It’s no wonder Sato kept you to himself all this time.
That realization becomes even clearer by the time Toru’s got his cock freed from his clothing, his pinkish tip dribbling precum down onto your cunt while he gapes at the sight.
With his clothes all gone, you realized that he’d been hiding a ripped body under all those baggy, nerdy-branded tees he wore. His muscles would flex without him even trying and he didn’t even notice how badly you were drooling over him until he stopped looking at your weeping hole and remembered to redirect his gaze up.
Seeing how you’re staring at his abs like you wanted to take a bite out of him, he leaned all the way up and allowed himself to be on full display for you. His cock bobbed with its hardness due to the way you admired him.
He was only reminded again that his brother got this time and time again and was too selfish to share.
What an asshole.
Toru scoffed and let his head cock to the left, peaking down at his length still hanging over your lower abdomen. “Hm,” His hand moved and he began to measure himself in comparison to how deep inside you he’d be within the next few minutes—hand stopping only a few inches short of your belly button. “Does he reach this far?”
You flinched out of your gawking thoughts and moved your attention to where his hand was, gasping at the debauched sight in between your legs.
Truth be told, the fact that they were twins clearly applied to every inch of their bodies. But if you looked hard enough, you could notice that Sato’s is a bit longer while Toru’s has that veining thickness.
To avoid making the man jealous, you shrug and make eye contact with him again, “Put it in and find out.”
Toru laughs dryly and you throb. Something had changed from before. His shyness seemed like it hid itself away considering there was nothing shy about how he wrapped his hand around his cock and then let it slap slap slap! against your swollen folds.
Your body twitched at each slap but what caught his attention most is how your cunt salivated with each one.
“Huh. I think I figured it out,” Toru breathed, his glasses slipping a bit.
Then he guides his dick up to swab around your clit for a couple seconds just to see the way your hips instantly squirm up for more. The smile that drags out across his face is chillingly close to the one Sato wears while he fucks you.
“There it is,” Toru whispers, hauling his cock down and letting his plump tip poke against your hole to feel you clench, and then slide back. “That’s what you like. You like being teased.”
You were so needy that you felt your slick wetly sliding down your skin to pool beneath you, “N-No, I just—“
“Shhh, focus on how this feels, pretty girl.” He instructs. All the shakiness you normally heard in his speech was gone and replaced with something sinfully commanding—yearning only to teach you true pleasure. “See how my cock keeps slipping out? Mmgh,” He repeated his action from before and your hips bucked for more this time, making him huff. “Don’t you want it inside you sooo badly?”
Your hand reached down for him, trying your damndest to angle him into you, “I do. Toru please,” You pleaded delightfully.
His naturally submissive nature leads him to slip an inch in but the dewy warmth of your pussy makes him let out a stuttered gasp. Then he lets his cock slop right out of you with another ringing sound of filth spurring out into the air. His deft cockhead thwacks at your quivering hole again and your eyes roll back.
"Say that again." Toru grunts, slapping your parted folds with his cock again to emphasize his words, "Beg me for it."
Your back arches up off the bed this time and you’ve got the prettiest look of desperation on your face, "Mnh, please?"
Fuck. He was not strong enough to drag this out any longer.
Nor was he reader for how welcoming your cunt is for him. Swallowing him in inch by stretching inch, Toru’s left with a slacked jaw as he finally slides into you. Choking on his own breath, “O-Ohh… Oh fuck.” he pants, “You’re so wet. F-Fuck, were you always this wet? Shit..”
You let off a pleasant string of moans that make his cock twitch wildly inside you before he even makes it halfway in.
Managing a short breath, you smile up at him, “Didn’t know you could curse s’much, Toru.”
He knew right then and there he was fucked.
“G-Gonna cum,” He whimpers as he drops his face down into your neck. The singular utterance of his name is what did it for him.
You thought he was just being dramatic but when you feel velvety ropes of creamy cum flooding into you followed by his throaty grunts against the crook of your neck, you realize he was being everything but.
The man could barely move his hips and all he had to offer you was thick loads in sporadic spurts and whiny groans.
By the time you feel his cum escaping where the two of you are still connected, you’re slow to snort, “…Toru?”
“Shit,” He gasps immediately, “Shitshitshit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to cum,” His head flies up, white hairs sticking to his forehead from sweat and eyes all wide and apologetic on yours, “I just-, you felt so good. I couldn’t-, fuck. I’m—“
“It’s okay,” You giggle, moving your hands to cup his face, “Just keep goin’.”
“But-,” His eyes travel back and forth between your own as he continues to stare. It takes Toru a long moment to realize he’s… still hard.
With a breathless oh tumbling out of his kiss-bitten lips, he rolls his hips forward and pushes his cum deeper into you as a creamy squelch rings out. “O-Ohh, fuck. That sounds s’nasty...” He murmurs, arousal decorating his expression from the sound.
“Mhm,” You whir, tugging him down to kiss you.
If Sato had good stamina then, as twins, Toru should too, right?
A very intimate mess of his hips rocking down into you carries on with your lips sliding over one another. Unlike his older sibling who typically fucked like his every thrust guaranteed pleasure (it did), Toru moved inside you in the same way his mouth moved over yours—awkward but careful.
The streeeetch from his cock definitely made up for his lack of hurried strokes since his steady pace forced you to feel every prodding inch.
He may not have lasted long inside you without cumming but he was able to bring you to an orgasm of your own, whispering things into your mouth about how perfect you were—how his brother never deserved any of this.
It made your heart feel heavy and your cunt sloppily sang around his cock up until the sound of something dropping made you both gasp.
“What the fuck.” Sato’s voice was heard seething, having dropped the bag he had hanging off of his shoulder.
When Toru pulls away from you and glances back, you manage to move your head enough to catch a glimpse of how Sato stuck was staring at the way his twin steadily fucking you to gentle tears.
“S-Sato,” You sputtered out, suddenly feeling Toru’s hand move to press down your lower abdomen—tightening the pressure around his cock and making him feel impossibly bigger inside you. “Ohmygod-,” Both men heard the way you choked, “M’gonna cum.”
Only to be interrupted by Toru scoffing, "Not yet. Someone has to teach this guy how to make you squirt, right?"
“No one has to teach me shit,” Sato argued as he fully entered his bedroom.
What a sight—his own brother fucking his favorite girl. Sato never thought he’d see the day, honestly.
Hell, he didn’t even know what to say. The sight of you two wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Toru had his face so it was like seeing himself fuck you. But, y’know, with glasses…
“Clearly someone does,” Toru’s delayed response came after he’d tugged his cock out of you, watching his cum sap out and soil his brother’s bedsheets. “Especially if I was able to do it.”
Rolling his eyes, “Bullshit.” Sato spat without letting his brother’s words register properly. When they finally do, an appalled expression colors over him, “Wait, what? No way, show me.”
Toru moves a hand to scratch the back of his neck, looking off to the side dorkishly, “Uh, we didn’t record it or anything–”
“No, I mean do it again, four eyes.” His older brother clarifies rudely.
You sit up at that. Glancing back and forth between the two for a moment and then settling your eyes onto Sato, “What?”
“I don’t believe him,” Sato huffs as comes to sit on the edge of his bed. Throwing his eyes onto you, “So, if he really made you squirt then surely he has no issue doing it again.”
You blink. “You want him to do that in front of you?”
“I want to see you squirt, period,” He admits, “I don’t care who gets it outta’ you at this point.”
You and Toru then exchange glances before looking at him.
“Well?” Sato scoffs. “If you’re gonna go out of your way to fuck in my bed, don’t stop now that I’m here. Put on a fuckin’ show for me.”
Ever so demanding he was…
——
Not that you or Toru seemed to care.
The next position you end up in is rather… precarious, to say the least.
You thought you were left stretched before but that feeling was utterly pale in comparison to what you felt now. Toru had you bouncing up and down his heavy cock, letting it talk you through every pummeling thrust by leaving sweltering smooches against the deepest crevices of your cunt.
Your maw was left to dangle open and you looked like a true slut in the eyes of the Gojo twins. As one fucked you beyond dumb, the other was sat in front of you with his hands wrapped around his shaft, his palm running up and down that wildly long cock of his as sticky precum glistened out from his tip.
Drool and spit trickled all down your jaw and fell onto the floor below and you couldn’t move in any way to escape Toru’s desperate thrusts.
The sound of sweaty skin slacking and clashing against one another echoed through Sato’s large bedroom whilst he watched and got off to the sight.
Your arms and legs were locked firmly in Toru’s grip and he was just using your pussy to satisfy that swollen ache he’d been dealing with for fuck knows how long now.
The remnants of his cum sobbed downwards and left a messy ring around his base, the pearly color nearly mocking the white happy trail of hair he had.
"Tighter-, hahh.. squeeze around me tighter, please." Toru muttered into your ear, having found himself pussydrunk and slopped. The walls of your pussy narrowed around him and his hips snapped up a little faster, "Good girl, just like that. F-Fuuck... you're gonna make me c-cum." Toru whimpered.
A singular gasp of, "Inside.” from your horribly sore throat makes both him and his brother groan.
"Again? Shiit," Toru sent a bragging smile ahead before bucking his hips up into you faster as if to prove a point. Still talking into your ear, "Y'want me to breed you in front of Sato? Damn, you're sluttier than I thought you'd be."
You feel his weighty balls pounding up against your skin as his cock bullied in deeper, your pussy stretched into the prettiest shape and molded perfectly around him.
Sato couldn’t take his eyes off the errotic sight and his hand moved faster, his own hips thrusting up as he reminisced on that feeling of positioning into you. The man swears he could feel you wrapped around him just from watching his brother handle you.
It was so different to see things from this perspective but fuck was it sexy. Your tits bounced as Toru dragged you up up upp and then let his hips meet you halfway with a needy thrust as he let your body come back down.
"Mmngh, Toru!" You moaned softly.
To which his teeth nipped at your ear, "It's so cute when you say my name like that," He huffs, "Do you like me that much? Hm? Like the way Toru treats this pussy?"
You weakly moved your head in agreement, tears running down your cheeks, "Uhuhh… f-fuuuck, Toru. M’cummin.”
His movements grew faster then, ruder. The plump crown of his cock mashed into that sweet spot of yours over and over and over as if to make the spot his new home—imprint himself there permanently.
Breathing all heavy against you, “S’okay, let it out, sweetheart. Show him what he should be making you do, yeah?”
Sato cums a split second before it actually happens, based on the fact that it was about to happen. Thank god you were too drunk to see it because he’s watching with teary eyes as you squirt all over Toru—his dick slipping out of you because of it and the mess spraying ahead filthily.
Your pussy quivers from the release and you’re whining all through it, the cooing sound of Toru whispering you through your high prominence in your ear. You could barely think, barely breathe because of the intensity of it all.
When you calm down from it, Toru’s still got you in his arms and all you’re left to focus on is Sato’s pouty face as he continues to stroke himself.
“Well, fuck. Look at you,” He spoke hoarsely the moment he noticed your attention on him, his head resting back against his headboard, “Just a whore for some Gojo cock, huh?”
Your head barely bobs in response—far too dazed to answer that with a properly functioning brain.
Sato’s hand squeezes around his tip and his brows furrow, “Yeahhh? Y’liked watching me jerk off like some pathetic loser while I let my brother fuck you?” He hardly waited for another answer out of you before nodding his chin, “Bet you do. Look at that pussy, so fuckin’ wet from this.”
Toru’s easing you down on the bed in between the both of them, puffing, “Unfair of you to keep her all to yourself, Sato.”
Keeping things simple, “I’m willing to share now.”
…
Things should have ended there. Seriously.
But, allas, the hold these two have over you appeared to be much stronger than you thought.
“Wrap those lips around me, baby.” Sato had requested, watching your shaky limbs move in between his legs.
Toru was somewhere behind you, diving his face back into your cunt to… clean the mess he left in there, apparently.
Out of both of them, Toru was definitely the more perverted one—currently eating his own cum out of your cunt after giving you some bullshit excuse about wanting to keep you clean.
All he wanted was to stick his tongue inside you again. You weren’t that dumb.
While you gathered Sato’s cock into your palm and let your lips press into his tip, he hissed as his face twisted up due to sensitivity. Easing a hand onto your head, “Atta girl. Choke on this dick while he cleans you up. Wanna see every inch down that throat.”
His words never failed to leave your cunt soused, a physical reaction of which met Toru’s compliant tongue.
Sato’s bed was a mess of all sorts of fluids—overly due for a washing after all that had taken place thus far. His cock was somewhere in the back of your throat and he felt your moans tremble against him whenever Toru slurped against you just right.
The three of you were lazy with everything by now and the only thing that made the Gojo siblings perk up was when you ended up gifting Toru’s mouth with another raining mess.
Oh, Sato was in awe at the sight all over again. So much so that it’s what caused his next orgasm. He was so dazed by your squirting that he didn’t even bother to ask you to swallow what he’d just unconsciously thrusted into your throat.
Normally that’s his favorite part; watching or asking you to swallow his seed. Yet, he’d missed all of that because seeing his brother’s face smothered in your wetness left him shocked.
“Ohhh, shit. That was more than the first time.” Toru said as he finally pulled himself from in between your legs.
Sato’s ears twitch and he cocks a brow. Daze broke completely, “First time?” he asked. It was clear he still didn’t believe that his geeky, clumsy, and overall awkward sibling made that happen before he walked in.
Toru looks at his brother, “Yeah… More than the first time she squirted.”
Sato stares. “You… You made her squirt before I got here?” Disbelief was evident in his tone.
He chuckles, “You asked me that like it’s hard or something, of course I did.”
You pull yourself up from Sato’s softening cock just in time and give the two slow blinks while transferring your gaze back and forth. Sleepiness wasn’t slow to overcome you.
Sato met your eyes with his pointed ones and puffed all brat-like, “Soooo… you’re gonna do that for only me next time, right?”
There’s not a singular thought inside your head as you blatantly ignore him. Then, you turn over and plop onto the bed to lay down—back facing the two of them.
“Hello?” Sato taps your shoulder and then jokingly adds a comedic, “Chat, am I muted…?”
Toru snorts with a shake of his head, getting out the bed to start cleaning up the mess you three collectively made within the past few hours.
Then, you’re wondering if the roles had reversed for a second when he grumbles, “Fuckin’ loser…”
A gentle breeze, the birds chirping, the cloud is soft and the garden softly swinging left to right
“_____!!! ”
By the sound of your sudden name, your eyes shot open as you let out a soft gasp as you saw a familiar purple hair.... Peri...
That cheeky little fairy
“Peri? ”
You let out a small yelp as you felt his hand wrapped around your waist, you were shock of this sudden action of his..
“What happened Peri? ”
You softly mumbled as you patted his head and rubbed his back, your soft hair slowly flowing along the air around your precious garden, the fairy that wrapped his as around you looked up revealing his tears and snot slowly coming down from his nose causing you the sigh, you grab your napkin from your pocket and wipe his snot
“Tell me dear, what happened? ”
You were worried because of how upset Peri is you try to comfort him by rubbing your hand on his back and whispering nothing but sweet words to his ear until he is ready to tell you, oh he looks so smitten by you and you knew.. You just don't want to do the first move..
“My first god kid yelled at me! ”
He sniffed as he holds you close as you listen to his rant while rubbing back and holding his hand time to time
“It's okay Peri.. It's your first god kid so take it easy.. ”
You said to him as you look at him smiling and hummed a little at what you said..
“Yeah... I know... ”
He whispered and leaned his head to your shoulder and closed his eyes, you adore how he trusted you that he would show his vulnerability to you.. But you would do the same too.. After all both of you trust eachother
“I just wish I could be more better”
“Peri dear you are better after all this is your first time so not everything goes perfect, it takes time to be a pro at this sweetheart”
You whispered to him and let the gentle breeze brush your skin and your small humming do the job comforted him as you felt a little sleepy, you close your eyes and take a deep breath and let the darkness take you.
Dark eyes glanced into the cool night, curious as to what creature was disturbing his evening.
“…hic…” it came again, much to his chagrin.
The still lake reflected the full moon like a mirror. To his left, not too far off, he honed in on the disturber. Something small and curled up. Shaking. The oddity enough to catch his full attention as he stood silently. The night his home and prison as he swiftly left in a puff of smoke over to the location of his intruder.
You.
His first instinct to end your miserable life, a human somehow entering his domain and crossing his barriers, but upon a closer look… he realized you were of his own kind.
A changeling at that. An abandoned fae left to die in the hands of mortals. Few if any live to maturity like this, but your short human stature led him to believe your growth was surely stunted due to neglect. Young fae needed abundant love and care in their infancy, the first 100 years of life incredibly crucial for their development. Least they end up like him and his kingdom. You were even younger than full maturity, though your physical body had completed it’s growth, your magic was weak and juvenile.
You were making odd noises which drew his curiosity, moving closer to your form, face buried in your lap as you hunched over your drawn up legs. Your feet were bare as the edges of the water lapped at them. Clothing sparse and tattered, rags unfit for even a human, let alone a Fae nearing maturity.
“Noisy little thing,” he hums aloud, startling you as you jolt and nearly throw yourself into the water. Your neck snaps up, pretty face swollen and blotchy from tears looking up and up until you saw a creature looming over you.
Your scream is cut off by a clawed dark hand, slapping over your mouth and muffling the cry as you try to jerk away in fear and panic. He watches in mild amusement, snickering as you realize your struggle is futile and efforts dying down. “Scream if you like, but none other than I will hear it out here.” He assures ominously, thin onyx colored lips pulling back to bare his razor sharp canines and pearly teeth at you. His grin savage and delighted in your terror.
He watches curiously as your wide doe eyes well up with tears, the crystalline droplets spilling up and over your cheeks, soft lips quivering beneath his palm. You reminded him of an animal imploring their predator for mercy by revealing their underbelly. There was a word for it…
Cute. His mind conjured at last. He found you cute, a changeling bold enough to intrude into the kingdom of the corrupted. You hadn’t even dropped the mirage covering you, old magic from your biological family still covering your natural appearance to mimic the human you parasitized off the life of.
“Why do you cry little one?” He asks softly, attempting not to terrify you further and avoid his questions.
You hesitate, but his molten gold eyes seem to melt through your defenses despite his dangerous and beautiful appearance. “I’m wrong,” you sniffle, grateful when he removes his enormous hand off your face, the sharp claws tipped in gold frightening against your soft breakable skin. “All wrong… and I don’t know what to do.” You curl back up around yourself, as if he too will cast judgement upon you.
He awkwardly mimics your stance, curiosity blazing as watches you in fascination. You find the way his monstrously large form contorts to sit like you somewhat baffling and amusing, less frightened now that he doesn’t seem to wish you harm.
“How are you wrong then?” He pries further, cupping his defined jaw and leaning into his hand as he observes.
“I’m not…I’m not human—I’m a—a—,” you stumble, unsure if this night is even real anymore. The shock so great you’re still trying to cope.
“A faery?” He supplies, amused by the way you gesture with your hands, expression so open and easy to read. “A changeling raised amongst humans to feed off their happiness?” His deep voice purrs it happily, as if he’s glad for it.
He is. His hatred of humans not something he feels the need to hide.
You appear devastated though, “I didn’t mean to—I don’t want to hurt or make anyone unhappy.” You mumble miserably, tugging at your hair and skin, as if that will dispel the magic which hides your true appearance.
“That’s just how our kind is, we need that happiness to grow properly.” He rubbles, eyeing your shocked expression. “We also happen to be fickle creatures ironically, and if a newborn is thought to need too much care, it is pawned off on humans who have more patience.” He clarifies, smiling as you seem to take him in with new eyes.
“You— are you a faery too? You just seem…” he chuckles as you awkwardly trail off.
“Evil? Centuries ago humans once called me the devil,” he laughs, his dark hair falling into his face like a waterfall as he shakes the loose fluffy curls, his pointed horns jutting from the top of his forehead jet black and smooth like ivory. He was too beautiful to call a devil, though you supposed it could be because of that which he was deemed so. His every feature seeming to catch your gaze with it’s beauty.
“I was going to say different…” you trail off shyly. “You don’t seem evil to me at least.”
He pauses, taking you in again as you regard him with those harmless eyes still wet with drying tears. It’d been centuries too since he’d left his kingdom, the entrance to the veil this lake he occasionally comes up to lounge by. He hasn’t seen a human since then, let alone a changeling or uncorrupted little faery like you.
He likes those pretty tears. He finds it annoying you shed them for humans you should guiltlessly take from.
His smile widens, eyes glittering mischievously and nearly glowing as he leans closer. The smell of sugar and cinnamon wafting off of him as you breathe in, nearly gasping as your mouth waters.
“How’s this little one? I’ll teach you how to be a faery, to show you there is nothing wrong with you.”
His eyes, where they should be white are entirely inky black, golden irises with reddened pupils framed by dark thick lashes, looked sincerely upon you.
He seemed genuine and kind despite his towering humanoid figure which looked to be capable of killing you easily.
It warmed you though, the thought of wanting to belong strong as you nod with a smile.
“I’d be eternally grateful.” You nod.
Sealing your fate.
“Tell me your name.” He asks sweetly, because despite his menacing size and sharp teeth and nails, your new friend was nothing but kind and gentle with you.
“Y/N” you reply easily, letting him playfully ruffle your hair as he picks out the leaves which got tangled in your locks from your travels here.
When he repeats it though, wonderful shivers shoot down your spine. He smiles, cooing at you like one might a baby as a he teases, “Such a cute name for a cute faery.”
You weakly protest, but fall into easy laughter as he swiftly changes the subject.
He was discussing proper fae etiquette. The basics, to not say please or thank you or I’m sorry. They all meant you expected more from the other or wouldn’t reciprocate, and that was just bad manners.
His soft hands, which could easily cover your entire face, were settled on your upper arms, having sat you in the grass against his chest.
He liked holding you close. Your little figure so soft, and from the dark circles beneath your human appearance, he assumed the neglect from the humans you resided amongst was growing worse. It was bad for your development.
“You should come live out here, they are vile creatures you know.” He comments every time you visit, though he never forces you to stay with him.
“It’s because I make them unhappy…” you explain sheepishly.
He shakes his head, thick brow arching as he rolls his eyes. “You are nearly completely mature now, you suck no happiness from your surroundings anymore silly girl.” Your confusion was palpable as he sighs and further explains, enjoying the squish of your tender flesh as he lightly squeezes you.
“While it is true fae infants are quite the hassle to raise, it isn’t as tortuous as humans make it out to be. In fact, most fae will take their child back if not treated well by their human surrogates.”
You hum, relaxing back against his warm chest and breathing in his sugary scent.
“So why wasn’t I—,” you stop short, brows furrowed but no longer speaking.
He doesn’t pry further, leaning his chin atop your head as he looks out at the lake.
“You won’t tell me?” You push, annoyed how he dances around your question endlessly. Your companion close enough that you feel insulted he won’t reveal it.
“My name is not to be uttered aloud, least calamity befall this land~” he’s teasing, you know he is, but still he refuses to divulge his name. “I gave you mine,” you argue again, huffing as he chuckles and lightly shoves you to your back on the grass, leaning over you and caging you in beneath him.
The moon is bright like the first time you’d met, illuminating his other worldly beauty.
“If you wish to call me something, call me Master,” he laughs, his sharp teeth no longer scaring you, but making your thighs squeeze together whenever he flashes them. He acts nothing like an immortal being, too immature and jovial to resemble someone having lived for thousands of years.
“So why do you get my name, but I don’t get yours?” You question in annoyance, avoiding his kiss to your cheek by jerking your face away. He huffs, sharp gaze daring you to dodge again.
You do. Earning yourself a warning nip to your collarbone as you yelp.
“Mean!” You cry, pushing at his chest as he snickers.
“Yes little flower, I am very, very, mean.” He rumbles, chest literally vibrating much like a cat does to purr.
“You give me weird nicknames…” you mutter, giving up as he licks your cheek. You don’t fight it, even as it feels foreign to you, trying to accept this side of your culture.
He licks your neck, lavishing the point where your pulse races with wet kisses and you tremble and struggle to act unaffected beneath him.
His smile is dangerous outside your view.
“Star!” You giggle, his rumble of irritation not the least intimidating to you as you roll away.
“That is an awful nickname.” He hisses, face twisted in disgust as you throw out the most horrendous names you could conjure in your pretty head at him.
“Lumi!” He growls.
“Then… Kitty?” He nearly bites you, careful not to play too roughly as he lightly tackles you down.
“If I give you a nickname, will you cease your little game?” He feels his anger fade as he wraps his arms around your smaller figure, easily pulling you into his lap. You don’t even flinch, too engrossed in your amusement to care where he handles you. You nod happily, your wish finally being fulfilled.
“Very well you stubborn creature,” he chides, “In addition to Master, you may also call me King.”
You frown. Clearly displeased by the lack of intimacy in the name. He laughs, amused by your obvious dislike. He kisses your puffed cheeks, over your pouty lips, and down to your vulnerable neck. Snickering as he goes, adoring how you so easily become pliant for him.
“I am teasing pretty flower, there was a time long ago I was called Ava, will you settle now?” He asks, voice husky as he sucks a mark into your skin, your little whine flaring his desires.
A strong urge to press you down and mate you nearly overpowers his control, but he merely holds you close and breathes your floral scent in to calm himself.
“I still prefer Kitty…” His eye twitches.
“Ava… this feels weird…” he pauses, looking down at your small form still cloaked like a human. Weak beneath him, partially nude as your skirt is pulled up to your soft belly. Your thighs are spread and shaking, his lips sucking another mark onto the thin skin of your inner thigh while you writhe.
He had your wet dripping slit open to the night air and his lustful gaze, begging for his tongue to taste.
“You don’t want to please me?” He asks, purring as you pout but deny. You were such a good little girl for him after all, so eager to learn and soak up his attention.
He resumes, licking down your thigh until his face rested above the warm mound you so sweetly offered him.
“You’re being so good for me petal, can you keep your legs open or should I help you?” He doesn’t need to look up to know you’re shaking in arousal and embarrassment. He can feel the tremors through the air as you struggle to keep your thighs spread as he asked.
“I-I need help…” you admit, feeling terribly hot as he keeps licking you, except where you seem to ache for him to lick.
He easily shifts forward, arms wrapping around you and letting your legs rest over his shoulders as he finally lets his tongue slip out to taste you.
You glance down, choking at the sight and feeling as he lets his entire tongue come out, the appendage inhumanly long and colored purple. It feels strange, the wet slimy feeling of his tongue slithering through your folds, but when he nudges the tiny nub hidden above your slit, you moan.
It sends jolts of electricity through you, hips canting up so he can to lick there again, earning you a hearty chuckle as he obliges. Licking and even curling his tongue around it, riling you up as your tiny hole leaks arousal and drips down your ass to the earth below.
“You’re making a mess petal, do you feel good? Should I stick my tongue inside you this time?” You moan, feeling the muscle prod at your unused vaginal entrance, too hazy to bother responding. He doesn’t wait for your answer, letting the thin tip of his tongue lap and taste your heady desire before poking and wiggling inside you.
It has your legs shooting straight, back arching as he holds you down with one large hand placed over your belly and chest. He groans as he feels the molten texture of your insides struggling against his intrusion, trying to force him out of your tight heat as he surges forward.
The tip of his tongue curls, swirling up and knocking the air from your lungs as a rush of hot liquid spills from your insides for him to drink down.
You shook and twitched, moaning and curling your hands around his curved horns like a handle.
The touch sends blood racing to his cock, as he moans and loudly slurps your cum down with audible squelching, enjoying the cries you released into the quiet night.
He lets you rest as he pulls back for just a moment, your body limp and panting as your high comes down.
“Good girl~” he praises, leaning over you to kiss softly at your sweaty skin, licking that too and tasting the sweet and salty mixture.
Then he’s pressing his lips against yours, forcing them open to sneak his long tongue inside your mouth, filling it and claiming that space too as his own. You’re helpless to resist, delirious on pleasure as he devours you, wiggling muscle curling and rubbing erotically around your own.
He tastes like sugar and something heavier, more musky, as you come to realize it as your own taste.
“Is this… really normal…?” You can help but ask as he pulls away, his lips still sticking close to trail kisses across your skin.
“It’s quite normal little flower, are you shy still?” He asks curiously, lifting one of your small hands and bringing it to his face, his size dwarfing you considerably. He lightly nibbles on your fingers, making a giggle bubble up as you smile and then squirm when he grins and licks your hand instead.
“A little…” you admit honestly. Always so honest and open.
He nods, as if completely understanding.
“That’s alright, we’re in no rush, I’ll teach you slowly…” there’s something else not said in his words, and you’re left drunk on his pheromones and lips as he distracts you. Then he’s kissing down, discarding your clothing and leaving you naked for his mouth and curious fingers.
Your breasts are lavished in his saliva, pebbled nipples sucked until standing upright before poked down with the tip of his tongue playfully. Always so playful, Ava nips and teases your skin, blinking innocently when you moan and glare accusingly.
“It’s not my fault you enjoy this so much petal~” he pouts, looking comical and so harmless, his glittery gold wings, almost translucent behind him, fluttering as if indignant to your silent accusation.
The golden tattoos which marked his skin more visible tonight, his clothing more minimal in his wish to feel more of you as he explores and plays.
Then he’s parting your thighs and throwing you into ecstasy again.
“Who did it?”
You sat curled around yourself, terror and dread swirling inside of you at the new side of Ava you’d never been graced with before.
The side you supposed was reserved for his enemies, but now showed to you.
Despite your fear, the tears spilling down your cheeks, and the injuries you bore, you still remained stubbornly silent.
He was going insane with rage and anguish.
You truly were a flower. So delicate and easily destroyed.
“Y/N… while I am being reasonable…Tell. Me. Who. Did. It.”
For all the times he’d made himself smaller, less alarming and more charming than his true nature called for, it made this time more appallingly. He stood to his full height, like an unwavering tree he did not budge or allow you to leave, golden eyes flaring and mixing with his red pupils to create something alarming. Even the markings which covered his dark skin seemed to glow and match his eyes, magic crackling in the air and silencing the night further.
As if the stars and moon were frightened too.
Still, still, you did not speak, even as he closed in on you, your fear so strong it almost choked him. Almost. He was too angry, too furious with the humans he liked to cast out of his mind. They needed to be taught a lesson it seemed. Their fear of the Fae renewed. They were becoming arrogant, as if their species was even in the same standing as them.
Your pretty injured face and form, battered from abuse and humiliation, was all the information he truly needed.
If you wanted to protect them, and not tell him, then he’d just punish them all as if they were the culprits.
It soothed him finally, his decision made as the ominous energy around him faded slowly. He let his rage dissipate, worry and concern bleeding through now as he crouched and shuffled towards you, claws spread and outstretched towards you.
“Come here Y/N, keep your secrets, but allow me to hold and comfort you…” his eyes darkened, the glow leaving behind almost a copper color, somber as he looks at you. There’s not pity in his eyes though, as you swallow and sigh in relief, grateful to crawl into his warm embrace where it feels safe.
He’s gentle as he wraps you in his arms, lips and tongue soothing as he tastes your tears and blood.
He grits his teeth, focusing on your scent and the feel of you to calm himself again, before letting his magic seep into your skin. You easily absorbed it, soaking it up like a sponge as your pain and injuries heal.
“Ava—?” Your eyes widen, amazement in their depths which stroke his ego as he taps his forehead against your own. His horns slightly tangling in your hair.
“Do you not want to drop the illusion on yourself?” He asks softly, staring at the human image your portray. He didn’t want to admit it, but it enraged him to see you still trying to live amongst them.
You seem surprised, before looking away nervously.
“It just feels strange… to not see myself anymore,” you confess, burrowing deeper into his chest while enjoying his ability to heal and soothe you. His sugary smell lightening your heavy heart.
He nods slowly, eyes staring at nothing over the still lake.
He holds you a little tighter.
Then you’re asleep.
The burns and screams of the people echo, the night come to life with flames and chaos.
Ava stands leisurely, smile filled with fondness as he watches the human village he’d followed and found to be your residence burn.
He’d spent all night playing with them, listening to them confess the awful things they’d done to you, said to you, and tried to do to you. They even thought of sacrificing you to some nonexistent deity, which only prolonged the nightmare he’d turned the populace into.
He laughed as the sounds swirled into music for his ears, the sharp points curling in delight as he hummed a tune older than the trees towering in this forest.
The night was still coming to an end sadly, and he’d need to return to your unconscious body still where he’d left it.
He didn’t want to let you wake in your new home alone after all.
His body covered in the blood of mortals he’d torn into and feasted on, Ava left them to perish.
Alone you woke. In a bed four times the size of any normal one, within the walls of a palace you’d only ever seen depicted in stories told by faraway travelers.
You glanced down, at hands unlike ones you were accustomed to seeing. You were nude, unable to hide from yourself as you felt tears begin to sprout. The illusion magic wasn’t working, and you couldn’t understand why.
This body was your true form, not that of the human you continuously tried to convince yourself you were. You hadn’t showed Ava, too afraid he’d see your appearance and dislike you for it.
While he was magnificent, you felt puny and odd.
A hiss snatches you from your self loathing, eyes flicking up to land on the one you’d just been thinking of.
He was covered in something, though you weren’t entirely sure what until he moved closer. The pearls lining his chambers glowed softly, his appearance more vibrant as he closed the distance between himself and the bed you laid on.
You sucked in a breath, realization dawning as the red contrasts against his skin. His lower face completely smeared in it, but his lips seemed clean. Until he grinned, red stained sharp teeth with chunks of dark meat stuck in between.
You remembered briefly him mentioning being mistaken for a demon.
You finally understood as a strange fear blossomed in your gut and you scooted away. Confusion and terror consuming you, but your body not catching up with your mind, because it recognized his scent and touch. You didn’t move quick enough, a clawed hand easily curling around your ankle and tugging you close. You slid smoothly over the cool silk, brought close to his body radiating heat. He only wore trousers, his taloned feet bare and ankles revealed as he’d cuffed them up to avoid bloody human fingers trying to grip them.
“Oh my little flower, look at you,” his eyes are swirling melted gold, enchanting and so disorienting. His beauty becoming savage with the blood and human flesh he adorned.
“A-Ava…” you want to ask, but you also don’t want the answer.
Did he find out who hurt you? Or was it unrelated? It seemed too coincidental.
Your chest constricted painfully as he stared down at you in wonder. Your true form so lovely it took his breath away, your image so fitting for you it was a wonder why you didn’t prefer this over your human mirage. Your ears, pointed like his own, were curled down a little with your emotions, as his eyes traced your face.
The shape was the same, your body still so small, and your eyes still expressed every little thought without fail.
He hated to admit it was even cuter, though he mused it was likely because he was the first to see your true form.
An abandoned young changeling, one he only took mild interest in, had him so thoroughly ravenous for all of you now.
“Isn’t this more comfortable petal? Instead of masquerading as a filthy human, aren’t you happier to just be you now?” His callous words seem off, but you can’t quite fathom it all as the shock settles in.
“My precious flower faery, are you scared?” Yes, you wanted to scream, as his bloody face and body near you, his sugary scent over powered by the scent of iron and death. Fae hated iron. He shouldn’t be comfortable.
You choked, jerking back and trying to crawl away from him, but he still had your ankle caged in his hand.
He laughs, but it’s empty and devoid of any true humor as he stares down at you with something dark in his gaze.
He yanks you back, harshly and sending a jolt of pain up your leg as you cry out, pulled back beneath him as he crawls onto the bed over you.
He’s too close, nausea consuming you as you smell and see the gore adorning him.
He finds your useless fear amusing and annoying all at once.
“I asked you a question little flower.” He grips your face, smushing your cheeks and making you look at him.
He rolls his eyes as the tears you so love to shed spill down your cheeks.
“Yes… I-I’m scared…” his smile softens, almost becoming sweet and familiar.
“Good. You should be.” Your blood runs cold.
He has the mercy to bathe, but not alone. You watch as the spray of water from some sort of piping turns pink as it disappears through tiny holes in the marble floor.
He’s nude, like you, and even though you cower and try to turn away, he easily stops any and all retreats with hardly any effort.
“I thought you didn’t like the blood? I’m still not clean petal.” His fluffy curls are flattened by the water falling above, the warm spray soaking you both as you try not to wonder why the sticky redness won’t just wash away with the water. The dried portions difficult to get off without physically touching and rubbing him with your soapy hands. You wanted to know why he was doing this, being so mean.
His ears look more distinct with his hair flat, onyx horns prominent against his forehead as his lashes hold droplets of water to frame his golden eyes.
You try not to show it, but as the blood clears and his dark smooth gold lined skin is revealed, you notice the hard lines of muscle and purple veins which protrude.
You only come up just below his chest, and you can’t look down, least you see it again.
He was making you nervous and scared on purpose, but you couldn’t understand why.
Like a coward you didn’t ask either, because you feared the answer even more.
Ava shifts, fingers coming up to cup your face in his hands and tilt your head up as he leans over you and blocks the water falling. His claws jut out beside your head, one lightly tickling your pointed little ear.
He licks his lips, loving the sight of you soaked and naked, your pretty form so enthralling to his eyes he struggles to contain himself.
“Do you want my help…?” His tone is condescending, eyes uncaring in the least about your inner turmoil.
“Here,” he drops one hand, engulfing your wrist and forcing you to plant your hand against his abdomen. “You have to wash like this—,” he teaches patiently, like none of this was happening and everything was fine. He moves your soft little hand back and forth, the soap quick to wash away as the water continues to fall. “You need more soap petal.” He informs gently, moving to stop the warm spray and letting you both stand in silence now, drops of water falling the only noise besides your breathing.
He sighs when you don’t move, your eyes trained on the corner of the spacious bathing room, where an in ground bath rests. He would take you to the hot springs later.
He fills the hand he has control of with soap, and amuses himself with using it like a washcloth, your little fingers curling as your lips tilt down into a frown.
“Since you need the help,” he goads, watching as those sweet familiar doe eyes flash up a glare from the corner of your eye.
He smiles, a nasty grin filled with something sinister as he chuckles darkly. “Don’t want to be my good girl anymore?” It’s a loaded question you’re unsure of how to answer.
It hardly matters as he forces your hand down, until you jolt at the change in body part you were touching. He forces your fingers to close around his throbbing length, unable to touch or fully wrap around it as your head jerks instinctively to look at what he was making you do.
“A-Ava—,” you try to pull away, but to no avail. He only hums, the soap like lube as he uses your hand to jerk his cock, amused as you stare in shock. He won’t let you go, not when the sight of your smaller form holding his leaking rod is so arousing he comes a minute a later. Hips thrusting with the timing of the squeeze he forces your hand to hold, hot ropes of his seed shooting out onto your chest and belly as he cages you with his free arm from moving away. He allows his purple tapered tip to smear the remaining pearls of his seed on your skin, ignoring your whine of protest as he paints you.
“Fuck, that’s it, be good for me pretty girl,” he growls lightly, chest rattling as he releases his pent up frustration on your confused form.
Really, you couldn’t be more adorable covered in his release looking dazed.
His golden eyes heavy lidded as he crouches down to catch your lips in a heated kiss.
You swallow nervously, staring at Ava as he stares at you from across his bed chambers.
You’d fallen asleep after… after bathing, if you could even call it that, and awoken later to find yourself alone again. Ava missing and your body covered by fine silk sheets while you slept.
You’d scrambled about the room looking for escape, finding nothing but a single exit locked, which Ava now stood before.
He wore a pair of silken sleep pants, tailored to his enormous figure as well as a matching robe left loose and revealing a majority of his chest and abdomen. His wings weren’t physical but a magic which naturally formed behind him, you’d learned.
The gold markings on his body were duller than earlier, his eyes less vibrant and more cool as he looks at you.
He seems more… familiar. Less of the Ava covered in blood and flesh of humans and more of the one you’ve befriended.
He’s silent, unmoving as he stands still in the doorway.
You don’t want to make the first move, unsure in this new environment, but you similarly disliked all of this distance and miscommunication between you both.
You moved cautiously, much like the skittish animal he likens you to in his mind, off the bed. You’d wrapped yourself in one of his sheets, his scent clinging to you the only thing stopping him from tearing it off you in annoyance. He stays put, muscles taunt and jaw clenched as you approach him like he might harm you.
He debated it.
Briefly showing you why you should be obedient and just listen, but dismissing it in favor of you liking him at least to some degree.
When you reach him, he merely stares down at you, face impassive unlike your nervous and awkward expression.
“Ava…?” He finally shifts, leaning down to close the distance a little but still not touching you. It’s you who initiates, because he’s certain he’s trained you well enough in your past touch starved state that you can’t resist the comfort and warmth he provides. You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your figure to his while looking up with those honest eyes he adores.
He finally relaxes, your touch so addicting he was unable to resist wrapping you further into his embrace while lifting you up. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, warm bare cunt now pressed against his abdomen while your arms come around his neck. The sheet loosening and falling down to pool at his feet. He finally smiles at your flustered state, not letting you climb down to grab it, instead moving you both towards his—your—bed and easily laying you down to drape over you.
“You’re calmer than I imagined you’d be…” he murmurs against the skin of your neck, kissing up to your jaw. “Should I prepare for your wrath later little flower?” He muses, lifting up to look at your expression.
“Was that blood… from a human?” You look guarded but he isn’t surprised.
“Yes.”
“Did you kill them?” He affirms again.
“Was it because of… me?” Those sweet eyes looked so haunted as you asked, as if you knew what he was going to say.
“No. It wasn’t because of you.”
You check his face, as if he were a human and would lie to you as they do.
“Then why did you do it?” You breathed, sagging in relief beneath him. His lips twitch, molten eyes shining with adoration as he looks upon you.
“They greatly offended me.” He answers vaguely, but it was the truth. They offended him by breathing and walking the earth. It was a direct insult to him. They only met misfortune because they caught his attention.
You seemed happy to accept whatever rid you of any guilt, looking up at him less fearfully now that he was clean and not being mean to you. Though, you both shared very different definitions of being “mean”.
“Am I staying the night?” You asked him curiously. You had thought he’d brought you here as he didn’t know where your home in the village was when you’d fallen asleep.
He shook his head, lips curling higher.
“You’re staying forever.” He declares, sweet scent filling your senses as he comes close enough to kiss you.
Then he does.
You thought his teasing was funny, lips tilting up finally as the awkwardness dissipates and familiarity rises.
This is your Ava, warm sweet Ava that smells so good it makes you crave sweets you cannot afford.
He presses you further into the unfathomably soft bed, his lips demanding as you open for him.
“Ava,” you break the kiss, breathing heavier as he growls and nips at your bottom lip, a shiver wracking you as he leans back enough to meet your gaze. “What we’re doing… it’s what lovers and spouses do isn’t it? At least, this is what human lovers do…” your voice becomes smaller as he stares down as you with an expression you couldn’t name.
“And?” He encourages.
You look away for a moment, gathering your thoughts before remembering out of all the cruelty in the world, Ava was the outlier.
“Is that what we’re doing? Like lovers?” You felt too embarrassed to directly state it, to say it aloud, and equally scared this isn’t anything different than exchanging a handshake with another faery to him. It was different to you.
“Do you want it to be?” He leans down, placing a feather soft kiss against your temple so you couldn’t see his eyes glowing bright. “Do you want us to be like lovers little flower?” His voice is deeper than usual, strained almost as he holds himself perfectly still above you.
You take the time to think, much to his displeasure, but when you answer it was everything for him.
“I do.”
He places a chaste kiss to your lips, his own tilting higher and higher until he’s grinning gleefully.
“Then that’s what we’ll be.” He confirms, and you miss it.
You miss every little trap he’d laid, each tiny piece of the puzzle forming around you like a cage. You miss everything and it’s too late to go back now. Ava muses wickedly, as he kisses you more sensually, lets his claws drag so delicately down your soft skin, he thinks how stupid you are.
“I’ll be all yours if you ask for it Y/N,” he speaks directly into your pointed ear, hot breath making the tips curl as you whine. The way he says your name is different than usual, more serious and seductive. You realize this seems wrong somehow, the way he’s making you melt so easily like this, how your panic and fear evaporated so quickly. You aren’t given time to think further, when he shifts and sits up. He sneers when you attempt to cover yourself again, gripping your wrist and lightly pulling you up too. On your knees, you face his chest, eyes looking up to see his heated expression.
Ava cups your jaw with one hand, and pokes at your lip with the other.
He doesn’t ask before his thumb invades your mouth, and you fight not to bite down or jerk away with his pointed claw inside.
He’s exploring, squeezing your cheeks until you open wide so he can playfully run over your sharpened canines. Curiously playing with your tongue until he leans down licks it with his own. It felt strange and erotic, your body vibrating with nerves and budding arousal as he explores you.
“Ava…” you wanted to touch him too, but he didn’t seem to be listening as he lets his hands trail down to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples as your back arches into them.
So you let your own hands wander, bolder than usual as you feel his solid form beneath you. His skin is much softer than it appears, strange markings and golden symbols flat. He had no softer points aside from that, muscles like stone and occasionally uncomfortable to lounge against due to it.
He squeezes your waist, smiling mischievous as you yelp and glare at him. He does it again, finally chuckling as he lets his hands slip to your ass.
This time his squeeze makes you gasp, as he parts your ass cheeks and allows your heated core to be exposed to the air. His claws so careful not to tear your skin open as he drags you taunt against him, rutting his hardened cock against your soft belly.
He moans aloud as he sees the tip poke out between you, your breasts above a delicious sight as he does it again and again.
“You drive me wild pretty faery,” he smiles, licking your cheek as he easily lifts you up to toss you to the center of the bed. You sink in, huffing but giggling as he crawls over you, looking like a dark angel as he covers you completely to capture your lips in a much more filthy kiss.
“I want to devour you,” he purrs, licking and kissing down your neck and chest, spreading your legs. “Make you mine completely,” you moan, feeling delirious as he finally licks your sloppy pussy.
You moan when you feel his fingers prod your entrance, sharp claws gone and retracted as he pushes one inside you while he laps at your clit. It feels different and firmer than his tongue, able to rub and stretch you better as he begins sucking on your puffy nub and purring deep in his chest. “Your little nub is hard~ are you feeling good?” He teases, wiggling the tip of his tongue over your engorged clit.
Then he’s pressing a second finger in, a mild burn heating your core as you gasp and try to shift away to no avail. “So sensitive,” he murmurs, spearing them into you, your soft gummy walls forcefully spread around the two digits as he noisily slurps. He’s being messy and a bit rough, but your moans spur him on as he groans into your pussy when you begin clawing at his hair and whining.
“Ava! S’too much! Can’t—!” You squeak and almost bite your tongue when you cum, pussy sucking his fingers deep and massaging them as you soak his hand and face.
He doesn’t stop, eyes glowing bright molten gold as he watches you squirm and babble senselessly while he stuffs a third finger into your poor overstimulated cunt. Your little hole stretched wide around him, and he’s content to watch as your greedy lower mouth takes it as he pumps them into you.
You’re less amused though, body thrumming as the pleasure becomes overwhelming and you panic.
“Stop, I’m gonna make a mess, Ava stop—!” You cry out, eyes watering before tears fall as you struggle to stop the powerful pressure building in your core, hurting you with the intensity as he pushes you further and further. “Your insides are steadily swallowing and sucking my fingers in, aren’t you a little lewd?” He asks, unaffected by your dull nails digging into his forearm, eyes trained on your drooling hole below.
He’s got an iron grip on your hip with his other hand, nails digging into your flesh every time you try to squirm away. “You’re so lovely like this petal.”
He’s fascinated when you break again, clear fluid squirting up and out from your squelching pussy as he continues to shove his fingers in.
You cum so hard it nearly causes you to lose consciousness, eyes rolling back as you twitch and moan as the dam inside you bursts open.
You whine as he pulls free, hand dripping in gooey arousal as he brings it to his lips and slurps it up without any decorum, appearing almost starved as he gazes down at you with the eyes of a predator. “Messy girl~ I’ll teach you though,” his lips pull back to reveal his sharp teeth, “When you feel so good you think you’ll break, you’re supposed to say I’m coming, do you understand?” He asks darkly.
“No more…” your weak plea only makes him smirk, kissing you softly as he slides forward and uses both hands to cover your hips and lift your lower half up.
Your eyes feel heavy as you force them open, slow to realize that his enormous cock is now laid over your pussy, pulsing and dragging back and forth through your slick folds. The thick veiny appendage causes your trepidation to rise, realization dawning that he intends to fit that inside of you.
“It won’t fit—,” you weren’t being cute or coy, because while you may not be human, your form was still the same size as one. He was much, much bigger, and his cock certainly fit his proportions. You try to catch his attention, unable to close your legs with his body between them. “Ava,” He’s truly not hearing you at all, too enthralled and excited as he lubes his massive length up with your juices. He’s shaking a bit too, heart beating rapidly in his chest as he coos down at you mindlessly, golden orbs almost unseeing at this point as he lines up with your entrance.
“So good for me petal~ you’re all mine aren’t you?” He breathes, and you feel the weight and pressure begin as his tip breaches.
“Wait, stop Ava—!” You whine as the sting becomes a burn and then you’re being filled to the point of excess as you struggle to breathe anymore.
“Shh—♡,” he hushes you, pained as well due to the pressure around him, strangling him as he grimaces and drags back out a little before surging forward. “You’re mine now petal,” he groans.
You’re unable to form words as he works his cock into you like a piece which doesn’t quite fit, bullying and stretching you open to forcefully fit himself.
He leans more weight down onto you as you struggle and writhe, noisy cries falling on deaf ears as he feels himself slipping deeper as your body finally gives up on keeping him out. His tip touches your cervix, before shoving even further and smashing it up as your stomach aches in protest.
You lay limp as he finally bottoms out, twitching with your mouth open and drool pooling down your chin as you feel nothing but the feeling of him inside you. He huffs a laugh, the way you look ruined before he’s even gotten started.
You look like a doll in his grasp, his cock extending your stomach a little as it twitches inside you. Your thighs ache as they’re naturally forced up, unable to spread fully enough for him to settle so he’d merely folded you and pressed you down to prevent escape.
“You did it pretty girl, look at you~” he grins, one hand leaving your hip to press on your belly, making your eyes widen and roll back as you whine. “You took every inch of me in this cute cunt didn’t you?” This male over you isn’t familiar, even as his sugary scent seems to increase and smother you, he seems foreign in his words and actions.
The inconsistencies are difficult to track as he drags himself out of you, the fullness replaced by feeling each ridge and bump of veins decorating his cock as he slides out.
Then he’s pushing in again, stealing your breath and ability to think as he starts to fuck you.
“Don’t worry petal, I won’t hurt you,” you can’t quite understand as he pushes his thick rod inside you, brain shutting off as you go pliant in his hold. “I’ll go nice and slow so you never forget,” he moans as you tighten and jerk, “who owns you.” He’s holding back with all his might as you spasm and grip him in inside of you, walls sucking him back in as he moves to exit.
You make him forget.
As you slick his cock up with your juices, he begins to slip in easier, folding you down further into a mating press as he looks down at your teary face. You make him forget all the time he’s spent alone. Your moans increase as he picks up the pace, pounding nice and deep inside of you and ridding you of any thought beside him. He slips a hand down between you both, claws retracted completely as he softly presses on your swollen clit and throws you reeling into another orgasm around him. “Say it petal,” he grits out, the feeling of you tightening drawing his own end. He’s hardly able to move inside you, short thrusts all he can manage as he drags you over the edge.
“I’m coming—!” Your head tips back, neck bared to his eyes as you cum for him obediently.
He fills you up right after, heavy engorged balls drawing up as he pumps his first load of the day into you. His thrusts not stopping as he rocks forward, expression relaxing as his magic swirls inside of you, his mating mark slowly sinking into your soul as he works to keep his seed deep within your womb. You’re too fucked out to notice, the pleasure and pressure overwhelming your senses as you try to rest now.
Except his cock doesn’t soften.
He thrusts hard once he’s sure his bond has settled, feeling you so much deeper in his soul as he drags his cock out almost all the way. “It’s like your little hole misses me already,” he smiles, watching as you flutter around his tip as if to tell him you don’t want him to leave. “Tell me petal,” he slides back inside, jolting you awake as you stare incredulously down at where you both connect. The slick sounds of him slipping into your sticky wet entrance haunting as you whine, hands digging into fine silk as you try to push away.
He only presses you down harder, cock burrowing deep as if to anchor you. His eyes are wild and swirling, the color so bright it’s almost blinding in the dim room. “How does it feel to lose?”
You blank. His question not making any sense as the room spins and you’re overcome again with pleasure so intense it makes your toes and feet curl in the air where they rest.
“How does it feel to be utterly mine for the rest of eternity?” You gasp, tearing at the sheets as he picks up the pace, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to truly fuck you now. Enormous cock working you into a frenzy as you yelp when two fingers pinch painfully around a nipple. “You’re not going back pretty girl,” he laughs, face wicked and beautiful as you look up through blurry eyes spilling tears. “You’ll not return to that filthy human village,” he releases your sore nipple in favor of loosely gripping your throat, feeling your pulse beneath his hand. “You are not in the land of Fae sweet flower,” he lets his lips ghost over yours, his tip bullying your cervix as you writhe and move to claw at his shoulders. “You are in my kingdom, ours, where the corrupted Fae separate themselves,” you’re lost, eyes crossing almost dumbly as you come again, choking as you cry out his name.
You can’t move even an inch, unable to even squirm as you’re forced to take each punishing inch of his cock and he ruts into you.
“Your pussy keeps tightening up when I tell you all the ways you’re mine. Do you like this?” He delights in your pathetic attempt to push at his chest, clearly finished despite his balls still being heavy with his seed he intends to spill into you.
“A-Av-Ava!” You struggle to form even his name, let alone any sentences as he keeps up his fast and brutal pace. Though, from his perspective he was still holding back as he moans and spills himself inside you again.
“Yes flower?” He coos, pushing your hair out of your sweaty face as he pulls out just enough to grip your thigh and turn you on your side, sliding back to the hilt again. He hugs your leg to his chest, working his cock at a new angle in your abused pussy still spilling cum from earlier. “I’m listening,” he chuckles, knowing you can’t speak, aware his cock was keeping you like this.
Words die down as he uses his hand not holding your leg up to grip your hip, holding you still while pushing his hips forward, railing himself inside your exhausted body. Your head rests against the bed, mouth open as your saliva soaks into the sheets, eyes staring at nothing as you feel another impending orgasm approaching.
Ava doesn’t mind, adoring the cute cock drunk expression as he uses you like a toy, filling you up over and over while you slowly lose your mind. “I’m sorry—Ava please, I’m sorry,” your slurred speech and delirious voice make him laugh. Genuinely amused by your rambling, “Why are you sorry petal? I’m not mad,” he catches your lips, tongue invading and swallowing your cries. He finds you so cute.
His cute, stupid little changeling, so trusting and unaware of his unsavory intentions.
You lose consciousness and count when he comes with his hips pressed deeply into your ass, pressing you belly first into his hand as he keeps you angled up to meet his thrusts. Your sensitive chest rubbing against the silk below, body limp as your world goes black and you convulse around him.
This time he lets you fall flat into the soaked bedding, taking his still hard cock out so he can pry apart your pussy lips and watch his release ooze out of your gaping hole.
His golden eyes flick up to your sleeping form, lips pulling as he coos, “Cute~♡” before he’s stuffing you full again, merciless as he leans on one arm to keep from crushing you as he continues to drill into you.
Even when you regain consciousness, trying to crawl away from his torturous pleasure, he only grips your arm and twists it gently behind you to hold. “You’re soaked and so hot inside, do you know how crazy you’re making me?” He groans, almost sounding like he’s in pain as you squeeze and come again. “I’m not letting you go, stop trying to run. You’ve already lost sweet girl.” As he lifts his hips, tip still encased by your wet hot heat, he eyes the slick mess which coats you both and connects you to him. “Go ahead and go crazy too, be good and listen.” He laughs, slamming back in and making your back arch as you nearly scream, feeling him so deep it makes you wonder if he’s going to break you. You really will go crazy, it’s a fleeting thought stolen by his cock once again, but you truly worry as he drowns you with euphoria and madness.
He’s hunched and leaning over your back, letting his tongue and teeth tease your ear so sweetly while he pounds you stupid, whispering to you things you won’t remember.
“You wanted my name so badly, didn’t you my lovely mate?” He knows you don’t understand, but it doesn’t stop him from speaking on, husky voice lulling you as you cry and lose yourself to pleasure. “I’ll tell you since you’re being so good, taking my seed so well~” he lets a little more weight settle on top of you, his cock nestling into your deepest parts with it.
warning: annnngst. with fluff at the end hehe :) also spoilers for the second movie (even though i haven't seen it myself lol)
summary: after the pandorian war, the na'vi began getting second mates so that they could repopulate their home. you, daughter of a chief to another tribe, become jake sully's second wife.
word count: 4.9k
author's note: hi! hello! so this was a idea i just wanted to write out and see what happens. obviously this is an au and i just wanted the angst hehe. hope you like it!!
part 2
“I don’t mean to be too blunt or rude and I know this isn’t your fault…but I’m not sure I will be able to love you the same…the same as Neytiri.”
It was one of the first things Jake Sully had said to you when the arrangement first started. Frankly, it was a response you expected upon finding out that you would be the second wife to the new Omaticaya clan leader. It was the same thing your mother was told over and over again when she became the third wife to your father.
And because of that, your mother prepared you. Your mindset was focused on the good of your own tribe, the good of your people. Love had nothing to do with it. It made things easier, thinking this way.
Still. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less.
“I understand. It’s not ideal for either of us.” Was your diplomatic response. “But it is for the good of our people, good for traditions.”
Quietly, Jake nodded. His guarded face had softened as he spoke with a matching tone, “Our children will be taken care of, I can promise you that. We will raise them together, I don’t care about these…different circumstances.”
A light laugh left your lips, “Yes, it doesn’t matter if we don’t love each other. All that matters is the children that come from it. I believe that is a fair trade.”
It wasn’t. And even though Jake didn’t say it out loud, he knew that too. Which was probably why there was still a look of sympathy on his face despite his somewhat guarded mask.
Jake winced slightly, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be harsh.”
“You are not harsh, Jakesully.” You quickly assure. “And I do not need your pity. I understand our tribe rules and our culture. I grew up knowing what to expect. You needn’t worry about me.”
Another diplomatic response. One that even felt fake coming out of your mouth, felt obviously rehearsed. For a moment you wondered if Jake could hear it too.
If he did, his face gave nothing away. “I felt it wouldn’t be fair to not let you know…but if you are sure about this and if you agree, then perhaps I had nothing to worry about in the first place.”
You tried not to frown. Instead a serene smile plastered your gentle face, “You still have a lot to learn, Jakesully. You are chief but still baby.”
But you honestly couldn’t blame Jake for his hesitance in all of this. He was an outsider still learning about the way of the Na’vi which meant he would have an outsider perspective about all of this. Having multiple mates only to continue your line and further grow the population. Especially now, after the war with the Sky People. You all had lost so many on both sides, mostly the Na’vi.
It would make sense that procreating and rebuilding would be the next option once the war was over with.
The Omaticaya Clan did not practice this as much as your tribe did but it wasn’t uncommon among them and certainly wasn’t implemented as a must until now.
You, just like Jake, did not want this either. The idea of finding a mate to fall in love with and have a family with for eternity was something you did want in the future. But now knowing that it would be this way, you knew that this was far from what you wanted. Being someone’s second unlovable wife. Just like your mother. It was the last thing you ever wanted.
And yet you continued to put on a brave face. For your tribe.
It didn’t matter what you felt in the end. There were certain responsibilities that came with being a chief’s daughter. A lot of privileges and yet a lot of unwanted baggage that came with it. People looking at you whenever your father wasn’t around even if you were still young at the time. It didn’t matter though. To them you were their leader, you were their hope, you had an example to set for others younger than you, who also looked up to you.
That was why you went through with it. Pushed your feelings aside and married Jake Sully. And the very same night you consummated the marriage.
The two of you kept a pretty cordial relationship, especially with Neytiri. She had already had her first son, Neteyam, whom you loved very dearly. Along with their daughter they adopted Kiri. In fact both children were one of the only reasons you and Neytiri got along so well, your motherly love for her children was always noticeable, even to Jake.
You sometimes caught him watching you playing with the Neteyam. At first, you thought he was wary of you around his son but when you locked eyes with him and offered a small yet hesitant smile his way, he returned it with a nod before leaving you with him.
It warmed your heart a bit. That he trusted you enough to be alone with Neteyam and Kiri. It was also nice that Neytiri did as well. She often left them both with you or sometimes took one and left another with you whenever she went off hunting. That was nice. They didn’t treat you like an outsider. And you were grateful.
Today was no different. Neytiri had gone with Kiri. Neteyam, after running around crazy, was now sleeping comfortably in your arms as you carved out a bow for yourself.
Recently, you were in need of a new one when yours had gotten snapped during your hunting yesterday. The food had escaped you and broken your bow in the process. Tomorrow was the day you would be able to try again, this time with a new and improved bow.
“Neytiri?” Jake’s voice filled the trees where you sat with Neteyam. You heard his quiet footsteps getting closer toward your direction.
You lean out, careful to keep the toddler secured in your arms as you did. “She’s hunting and I just got your son to sleep so ssh.”
Carefully, he climbed into the tree with you but remained standing while you sat. His yellow gaze had yours pinned curiously. This had been the longest the two of you had ever kept eye contact. Most of the time he avoided it. It was his vulnerability. And for some reason, he did not want to share that with you. Your chest felt heavy at this.
But then you remembered your mother and pushed those feelings away.
“Mo’at told me.” He spoke first.
You raised a brow curiously, “Told you what?”
That was when he knelt down in front of you, his eyes leaving yours and hesitantly moving toward your visible stomach. “You’re pregnant.”
“Oh.” You nodded after a while. “Yes, I am.”
He furrowed his brow, “You didn’t say anything to me.”
“I was going to.”
“y/n.” He looked stern now, like a warrior. Like a chief.
You couldn’t help but continue smile, “Ah, now you look like true Na’vi leader.” Seeing as he didn’t even twitch at your attempt to lighten the mood you sigh and rest against the tree bark, smoothing back bits of Neteyam’s hair as he snuggled closer to you in his sleep. “I was scared.”
The stern look had now shifted into one of confusion and perhaps worry, “What is it? Did someone do something to you—”
“No, Jakesully, listen, listen.” You patted his arm gently to quiet him down before continuing the best way you could in your broken English. “I am not like Neytiri. I am not warrior. My child…what if they are not warrior too? They would be killed because of me…because I am weak. How could I do that to my own child?”
As you admitted this, you kept your eyes away from his face, not wanting to face him. It was bad enough that he did not like this union. Now he would have to deal with a wife who was weaker than his true mate. You were not a very skilled warrior like the rest of the Omaticaya people, your tribe didn’t value teaching the females how to fight as much as the males. That was the one thing that made you self-conscious when you first met the Omaticaya people. And that never went away, especially now that you knew that now you were carrying your child.
Just slightly, your body jumped when you felt his hand on your stomach. It was warm and gentle to the touch. It was the last thing you expected from him. A part of you didn’t want to look at him yet, a part of you thought it would ruin the moment if you did. So, you closed your eyes and allowed him to feel your stomach. You weren’t showing yet, it had only been a week since you found out you were pregnant. But still he held your stomach, almost as if he could hear the heartbeat already.
The two of you sat there in silence. A silence that you would have stayed in if not for Jake finally speaking. “You are not weak, y/n. Our child will not die because of you. I said I would protect you and the child, you know I wouldn’t let that happen.”
His hand was still on your stomach and you stayed quiet for a few seconds. Instead you studied his five fingered hand, willing yourself not to touch it or gently caress it with your own fingers.
“I know you don’t have vows here, when you get married.” Jake started cautiously. When you looked at him for the first time his eyes were clouded with thought as he stared off at the distance.
“Vows?” You squint your eyes in thought, trying to remember the Sky People culture you were taught a while ago. “I’m sorry, I do not remember what that is.”
At this he smiled, “It’s okay. In simpler terms, it means a promise.”
Okay, that sounds about right. But why was he bringing that up?
As if reading your mind, Jake continued, “I may not be able to give you the marriage you want but I can make you a vow. A vow to always protect our child. I will train him of course, perhaps Neytiri will as well. He will be a fine warrior, y/n. I will make sure of it. I promise you.”
You believed him. You really did.
You remembered that vow when you gave birth to your son, Aawpok. Jake was with you through the entire birth. You were glad. At least then you wouldn’t be alone.
Aawpok looked exactly like Jake and he had your softer personality. Because of this, you were always worried when Jake or Neytiri took him out for training or hunting along with his other sibling Neteyam.
Sometimes you couldn’t help but whisper worriedly to Jake, “Don’t be too hard on him. The boy is too soft.”
Jake would give a small barely noticeable smile at your worry despite him trying to be stern about it, “I made you a promise, remember?”
“Yes, but—”
“Be calm, princess.” He would tell you in your native tongue. And reluctantly you’d stop simply because of how he spoke to you then. It was something, the irrational part of you wanted to always hear him talk to you that way. But you knew it wouldn’t last.
You remembered your mother and pushed your feelings aside.
“She’ll kill you if you don’t listen, Ma’Jake.” Neytiri would playfully add on which made you nod in confirmation.
Jake smiled at Neytiri completely unguarded. You ignored the ugly feeling in your chest. “Fine, I will do my best.”
You gave your son a quick kiss on the head, whispering to him to be careful, before allowing the boys to leave.
Neytiri squeezed your arm. She was newly pregnant once more with her second child. The both of you had become good friends over the years, spending time together whenever Jake and the boys went off hunting.
She noticed your sad look and furrowed her brows, “You do not see, do you?”
You stare at her confused, “See what?”
Neytiri just shook her head, “He loves you. But I can not teach you how to see.”
“Do not pity me. I do not need it.” You say going back to your little camp. “I am content with what I have.”
“Aaah!” Neytiri waved you off, rolling her eyes. “It is not impossible. My father…he was able to love his second wife before she died.”
You frowned, “Did he really love her? Or did he pity her? My mother says they can be confused for each other.”
“Your mother married a skxawng of a chief! He does not count.” Neytiri grabbed her bow, staring at it longingly. “As I said before, it is not impossible. Mo’at and his second wife were like sisters because of the union, like you and I. He loved her just as much as he loved Mo’at.”
You didn’t respond. Neytiri knew how quiet you were, in fact you were a lot quieter than both her and Jake so they were used to your silent but comforting presence. It took awhile for Jake to get used to your prolonged silence but eventually after a few years, he had learned to get used to it. Same with Neytiri.
Finally you asked, “So he loved her. Just the same?”
Neytiri continued staring at her bow. A reminder of her home, of what she lost.
“Until his last breath.”
The RDA had returned.
You had only found out when you were teaching Aawpok how to better his aim with his bow and arrows. This was one of the things you were best at. After years of both raising your son and perfecting your bow and arrow skills, your aim has improved greatly and was near to perfection.
But when the forest had caught fire due to the RDA’s arrival, you escaped with your son and found the others immediately. Mostly because Neteyam and Lo’ak had come looking for you two and led you and Aawpok back to the rest.
All of you had moved to the Hallelujah Mountains for safety. Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Aawpok went off with Jake to fight against the RDA supply lines. You stayed behind, worriedly waiting for them to come back. And when they did, you noticed both Lo’ak, Neteyam, and Aawpok had their heads down, which told you Jake must’ve scolded them. While Neytiri went to check on Jake’s wounds, you checked in on the boys.
The first one you approached was Lo’ak who often felt the scolding more than his siblings. “I just wanted to help.” He mumbled to you, eyes down casted.
“I know, little one.” You hugged him to your side. Aawpok and Neteyam sat close by and listened to you as you spoke gently to them. “Your father is only worried for you, all of you. I know he can be a little harsh—”
“He really was trying to help.” Aawpok frowned.
Often you were the gentle parent out of the three of you. Jake of course didn’t like it because you were always excusing their behavior when really that wasn’t the case.
When you got Jake alone, he sighed at the look on your face as if he could sense what was to come.
“I don’t want to fight.” You say. Only because the two of you had been fighting a lot more recently than you liked. It was mostly out of frustration on your part. As much as you tried to push all your feelings to the side, there are days where you couldn’t help but yearn, help but be jealous, help but want to be loved. And all of that just builds up until it explodes one day.
Jake nodded, his face still guarded, “I don’t either.”
There was a small cut on his cheek. You wanted to reach out and clean it but stopped yourself as always.
He knew what you were going to say before even saying it. “I’m scared for them, y/n. I don’t want them to get hurt. And if I have to be harsh for them to get it then so be it. It’s for their protection. I have to keep them safe.” You hadn’t realized until now that he was staring intently into your eyes. “I have to keep my vow.”
He knew what you wanted to say. Just by body language, somehow he knew what you wanted to say. That’s what confused you about your relationship. And then he stared at you like this, spoke to you in that gentle voice, making you believe Neytiri’s words for only a few seconds.
Especially when he placed a hand to your cheek as he said, “I need you to work with me, okay? So we can get through this, we have to work together. All three of us.”
“You also have to give your sons a chance to be better.” You add squeezing the hand that had still cupped your cheek. “I understand your fear, just don’t push them too much, okay?”
Jake dropped his hand and his face became guarded once more. The hope had dwindled just as fast.
“My vow, y/n. I have to keep it.”
“I do not want you to go too far just to keep a promise.”
Jake didn’t respond to that. And there was no room for you to continue much of the conversation.
Yet you still remembered the vow. It was the one thing you kept close to your heart. It was the one thing that showed just a bit of love and care.
It wasn’t long before all of you moved to stay with the Metkayina clan. Of course they weren’t very welcoming at first. It took everything in you not to fight those who spoke ill against your son and the rest of the Sully children.
Jake, much to your confusion, gives the spot between your neck and shoulder a gentle squeeze with his hand whenever he senses your frustration or annoyance. And he continued showing different signs of affection. You had noticed it before a long time ago, but they only became more noticeable as days went by.
You wanted to embrace this change in how much he was slowly becoming open toward you. But you could only feel angry because he continued to confuse you.
You did not want to blow up in front of the children. So, you went off on your own and coincidentally enough Jake had followed after you, sensing your irritation.
“I do not want your pity, Jakesully!”
“I’m not pitying you!”
You seethed, “Then stick to your word! Do not try to give me hope!” He was quiet and you were still angry. “Keep your vow. That is all you need to do. Whatever this is, whatever you are trying to do now, it is too late.”
It wasn’t too late. You were only being stubborn.
“y/n—”
“No! Leave me be!” You stalked off, wanting to be alone. Wanting to be isolated away from him for a while. And he had left you alone, thankfully.
Aawpok and Tuk had found you later. Tuk cuddled into your side and whispered, “Please don’t cry, y/n.”
“Mama, are you okay?” Aawpok asked you quietly, also hugging you.
You loved them both for this. For this little comfort. It was the one thing you needed in this new place that wasn’t home to you. And it reminded you that you were not alone. Not always. You had your son and you had Neytiri’s kids who also considered you as another mother. You were not alone. That was most important in the end..
All of that meant nothing in the end.
You had decided to fight alongside the Metkayina clan to attack the RDA fleet. You had kept to the skies with others on your ikran.
You had not seen them at first.
It wasn’t until you saw Jake, Neytiri, and the children huddled in a circle from above did you stop. You could see all of them. Your mother instincts kicking in and counting all the children that were there. Lo’ak, Neteyam, Spider, and Tsireya who was the daughter of the Metkayina clan leaders. But where were the girls? Where was Aawpok?
When your ikran landed on the piece of rock they were on, you rushed toward them. Jake stood and stopped you by grabbing your shoulders.
“Where’s the girls? Where’s Aawpok?”
Jake’s eyes were filled with tears and grief and it only made your heart sink. You looked over his shoulder and screamed when you found Aawpok lying in the middle of their small circle. Blank eyes looking up at the sky, blood coating his chest.
“My boy! My son!” You cried, sinking to your knees next to his body. The boy was still and limp in your grasp but you did not care. You just held him close to your chest, your screams echoing through the air, staying with them.
Eventually, you felt hands grip your arms attempting to pull you away from your son. Hissing over your shoulder, scorched eyes locking with Jake’s. You lunged for him, shouting and crying at him
“You promised! You lie! You are liar!”
He held your arms as you fought against him, wanting to shove him away, wanting to scream even more at him, everything in you wanted revenge. This anger had been with you since the start of this union. It was only now that it decided to make itself known.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, y/n.” Jake whispered desperately to you. His eyes were glassy and his grip was strong. “They have our daughters.”
Your cries got worse. “You liar…”
“We have to get them back. We will get them back, I promise you—”
“No!”
This time you had enough strength to push him away. Just those very words that spilled from his mouth so easily was what brought back the anger and the heat in your tears.
“Your vows mean nothing to me.” You spat before stalking off towards your ikran, flying off to find Kiri and Tuk, to help get them back, and kill whoever had done this to your son.
The funeral was a blur. You could not bring yourself to be fully there as they buried your son. Neytiri stood close by you through it all and so did the children. Tuk was the one that clung to your leg. Lo’ak held your hand. Neteyam cried for Aawpok since they had been closer in age and grew up with each other. And after the funeral, Kiri gave you a long hug.
You had yet to say anything to Jake.
Nobody forced you to thankfully. Neytiri understood your anger, a mother’s anger. A mother’s grief. She even advised Jake to stay away for awhile and to give you some time. Fortunately, he listened despite the man being just as stubborn as you.
It was the kids that saw you often and you were glad for their company. In their own way they were grieving as well and you could tell that they were trying to be strong around you whenever they did visit. You appreciate them, you really did, and you considered them your children as well. But Aawpok was your only biological son. You and Jake hadn’t tried again after having him, he was the only child between the two of you.
And now he is gone.
Aawpok had always hoped you and Jake would love each other like actual parents, just like it was with Neytiri. But he understood that it wouldn’t happen realistically when he grew up with you explaining it to him as gently as you could. You never wanted to paint Jake out to be hated, that was never your goal.
That still didn’t stop Aawpok from hoping. And you knew this. Even in his death.
And because of that fact, you sought Jake out yourself after months of silence from your part.
Neytiri took the boys out hunting and Kiri and Tuk were with Mo’at. When you arrived, it was just you and Jake.
When Jake saw you, he stood to attention instantly. There was something different about him when you set your eyes upon him. Something that you couldn’t figure out in that moment just yet. Because you really wanted to say this before you could get any more emotional.
“y/n—"
“Please, let me speak.” Your voice wasn’t cold and short like for the past few months. It was quieter, so quiet Jake’s ears twitched at attention. He was listening. He didn’t need to say that he was. You knew by the way he watched you. “There are many things that I wanted and I could never have. A present father that cared. Siblings. A marriage in which I was loved by my own husband….my son…”
Jake swallowed, his jaw trembling. You hadn’t realized that you have never seen your husband cry before until now.
“I miss him. So much, y/n. Every night, every morning.”
You realized then why he looked so different. He was not guarded in front of you. His vulnerability was stripped bare in front of you now. You had only seen glimpses of it but having this, seeing this just between the two of you, it was strange. It was new. It was relieving because at least someone here felt the exact pain as you felt in that moment. At least someone showed it and didn’t care to be strong around you.
You hadn’t realized you stepped forward nor that your hands now cupped his face until you saw his tears up close, until you saw his eyes glisten, until you felt him lean into your touch.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, y/n,” He whispered. You brought him closer until he buried his face into your neck, his cries now becoming muffled. Only for you two here in your own silent grief, in your own silent tears.
Holding each other was what you needed at that moment. Being in his arms made every tension in your muscles melt away in an instant. You found every bit of you melting into him despite yourself and he allowed himself to do the same. He had stopped crying at this point and just held you.
And then he whispered next to your ear in that gentle way you always loved.
“I see you, y/n. I should’ve said that before. I’ve always seen you.” He pulled away slightly and pressed his forehead into yours. “Only if you accept me. I know I don’t deserve it…”
“I see you, skxawng.” You smiled through your tears pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. And Jake responded instantly, melting further into your waters.
He had been at the shallow end the entire time. You just hadn’t noticed. Not until he finally dived in.
From then on, your relationship changed. Everyone noticed and even Neytiri smugly told you she was right in the process. And she was right, you had been a bit blind. But that didn’t mean Jake hadn’t been much of an idiot.
Neytiri and you became closer as sister wives. You continued being in the children’s lives as another mother figure. All of you still grieved for Aawpok but you were taking it one day at a time. With Jake at your side now.
You had gone hunting alone one day. Your boy and arrow at your side. It was a strange morning for you only because you had felt strange. Something was different and you weren’t sure what it was yet. Jake noticed the change in your behavior but you told him not to worry and decided to take a day for yourself.
Being around the water was something you would have to get used to, especially when you had always grown up in the forest surrounded by many animals. Just as you placed your feet in the waters, you had suddenly realized this strange feeling you had been feeling all morning was familiar. You had felt this before years back and you had instantly gone to Mo’at about it.
And that’s what you did. Only instead of Mo’at, you went to the healers.
They had you lying on the ground as they checked your body. It wasn’t until one of them sent someone to get your husband did you realize what it meant.
You were crying when Jake arrived and that only worried him more as he was at your side instantly.
“What’s happening? Are you okay?” Jake looked to the healers. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She isn’t hurt.” The healer informed calmly. “She is only pregnant. She will be fine.”
Jake looked down at you. He visibly calmed down but looked at you with worry still as he caressed your cheek. You wiped at your cheeks as he whispered, “What’re you thinking, princess?”
“I’m scared.” You admitted quietly for only him to hear.
He nodded now cupping your face with both his hands. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, to your nose, and to your lips, lingering a bit longer there. “I know, I know, I’m scared too.”
You grasp at his wrist tightly, staring him in the eyes, “No more vows, Jakesully. Just us and Eywa’s way.”
A chuckle left his lips, “I promise.”
“What did I just say?”
He laughed this time and kissed you on the lips, “I’m sorry. I will. How’s that?”
We have to have a serious conversation about people throwing around the "You're sexualizing this character, so you are a bad person!" accusation.
Fiction is a form of escapism for many of us, and it's truly annoying that fandom spaces have turned into this policing and shaming nonsense.
As it stands, my current two favourite characters (Miguel and Astarion) were pretty much created in the fanfiction factory. The creators intended for them to be attractive and alluring. What's wrong with that then?
Absolutely nothing.
It's tiring having to navigate through the pile of made up problems that only serve to make others feel bad for being attracted to a fictional man.
intended age gap, non con/dub con, dark!miggy, red riding hood au, kinda monster kink, primal kink, size kink — an innocent walk in the woods to your grandmother’s, with your red hood and basket turns a little different than expected.
check out my spiderverse m.list
the whole town had heard the stories. a monster who lived in the woods. woods that parents used to let their kids frolic in, now turned into a desolate area everyone steered clear of. there were the occasional hunters who brought back food for their families, but they never travelled too far past the less denser trees. a horror story. that’s what it was. one kids told others to freak them out in the dark. the beast with claws, fangs, and blood red eyes. he ate anyone who dared venture too far. at least that’s the story the townspeople were going with.
“oh please, there’s no such thing as that beast.” your mother says as she tucks your hair into your hood. your hands clutch a basket, filled with breads and pastries that you insisted on baking yourself. “now, head straight to grandmothers cottage. no dawdling.” she speaks sternly, knowing how easy your attention can sway. you nod, adjusting the red hood around yourself. your grandmother was sick. ill to the point of staying bedridden. she hadn’t wanted to die in this dirty town, as she had put it. she wanted to die peacefully, alone in the woods. your mother was against it, but ever since you were young every argument had always been won by your grandmother.
you make your way out the door, as your mother calls behind you ‘to be back before the sun sets’. you raise your hand to acknowledge her words as you continue on to the edge of the woods. you could hear the distant birds chirping, the woods looking far less scary than normally portrayed. the way the sun gleamed through the gaps between the trees was actually rather beautiful. with a growing smile you skipped over a small running lake, the wood’s animals darting away from your feet.
you made it through the first section of woods with ease, your lips pressed together in a hum. but the moment you edged into the shadier parts of the bush and shrub the singing birds had fallen silent. your own soft tune slowed too, as you gazed around. most hunters stopped here, where the denser trees casted heavier shadows. grandmothers cottage shouldn’t be far. she had chosen a spot in the midst of the forest, as far in as she could make it, without being too close to the fast rushing lake.
you switched hands, holding the basket as your feet softly slipped past large twigs, the grass now a dark shade as the sun became blocked by the heavy leaves. you spared a look up, seeing less animals scurrying about in the trees, and even less on the forest floor. and that’s when you hear it. the faint snap of a branch that has you spinning on your heels. but the moment you turn you’re pleasantly surprised to see a small patch of sunlight, almost acting like a spotlight on bundles of flowers.
the gorgeous colours made your feet move, crouching down as you brushed your hand over the different petals, the worry from the snap gone entirely. “she’d love some…” you speak to yourself, thinking of your grandmother. along with the bread, some flowers would do nicely. a pretty touch. don’t dawdle. you could hear your mothers voice. “it won’t take long.” you say softly, as you fully kneel and begin to pick some of the flowers. “what brings you here, little girl?” a low voice has you pausing, hand midway from picking a tulip. you swiftly turn on your knees and gaze up.
there, standing before you is a man. no…your eyes dart down to his flexing hands. claws. you shift your gaze back up to his slightly shadowed face. and as he takes a step closer to you your breathing gets caught. fangs and red eyes. you stare at him, your body seemingly frozen. “well?” he asks, his tongue moving to run along his lower lip as he stares down at you. you rush to a stance, quickly looking around for your basket. “you make these yourself?” he speaks again, and you shift your gaze back to him to see him holding up your basket.
you’re hesitant to grab it off him, hesitant to even speak. “you’re a quiet thing, aren’t you?” his tone has shifted a fraction. his view of you originally being ‘intruder’, now instead…something else. something…small. something that smells so so sweet. “can you…can you give that back please?” your voice is so soft. almost like a caress to him. this only makes him tighten his hold on your basket. he keeps his eyes on you as he grabs out one of your pastries. he takes a bite as you hold back your protest. “mm.” he hums, still keeping those red eyes on you. “so…sweet…delicious.” he licks the small crumbs off his lower lip, giving you another view of his fangs. his eyes haven’t strayed from you. and the way he stated those words of praise. you had an uncomfortable feeling that he wasn’t praising the food. you carefully reach over, stepping closer to take the basket off him. “those aren’t for you.”
he watches as you near, letting you take the basket. he then leans down to your height, making your body stiffen. “what a shame.” his hand moves up to brush away a strand of hair, before his claw flips your hood down. he drags that same claw over you cheek, just feeling your skin. “maybe i’ll just have to try something else.” at first you don’t catch the look of hunger in his eyes, before his hand is drawing you closer by your neck. with wide eyes, you try and struggle away from him. “no, please, you don’t have to eat me. i’m…i won’t taste very good.” you try and persuade him, thinking him licking his fangs is a sign that he wants to kill you.
but he just chuckles, slipping that hand at the back of your neck, down your spine, making you straighten. his claws slip past your dress and coat, softly scratching at your back as he draws you closer to his large frame. “eat you?” he practically coos. “why would i eat you?” he’s still stroking the skin of your cheek, before he tilts your chin further up. “because…because you’re a…monster.” you tilt your head further back to get away from his grip, but he’s then picking you up, hiking your skirt along your thighs as you gasp and instinctively grab onto his shoulders.
“now that’s a little rude. you don’t even know me.” he says, claws nearly sinking into your legs, keeping you straddled around him as you do your best to try and struggle free. “i know of you. the beast in the woods. the one who eats those who trespass.” you breath out, gripping the material of his shirt tighter as you wriggle. his grip on you only harshens at your movements, as he manhandles you over his shoulder. you screech, your hits on his back doing nothing. with the fast flip, and the state that your dress was already in, your panties are now on display. cute, innocent panties that have easily captured the attention of the monster.
he tilts his head as he stares at your covered pussy, his mouth already salivating. “maybe i do eat those who venture too far into the woods.” he plays along with your fear, as his hand pushes your dress even farther over your ass. “no—“ but your words cut short when you feel two claws run right down the middle of your panties. your hips shift as you bite your lower lip harshly. “please…” your anger has dissipated, leaving you with only your fear. “begging already?” he coos, sticking his two claws right against where your entrance is. he can see the stain beginning to form. you’re soaked, and the sight makes his grip on you tighten.
he suddenly flips you back around, manhandling you onto the ground, where the shadows create a little nook. his hands are fast as he rips the cotton of your panties. “what are you—“ you try but choke on your words the minute the monster slips two of his fingers inside you. your legs shake as you push up on your elbows. the sound of his fingers going in and out of you is embarrassing. you grab at his wrist, your legs already shaking as you try not to succumb to the immediate pleasure you had begun to feel.
“n-no.” you breathe. “yes.” he breathes back, curling his fingers inside you. any further words are choked, as your lips part in a pathetic whimper. “aw.” he coos, now holding you down with his other hand on your stomach. “stop…no—god.” your pleas fall on deaf ears. “yeah…you’ll do nicely.” he hums, continuing to fuck you with his long fingers. too long, in your opinion. his claws scrap against your already sensitive insides, as you squirm on the ground.
your cheeks and nose are flushed, your mismatched breath almost egging him on. “stop squirming or maybe i will have to eat you.” those words have you pausing, fists clenching around the grass. “please…” you gulp out, stomach contracting. but all the beast does is finger you harder, pushing at your thighs so he can get a good look at what a mess he’s already made of you. and just as you’re about to cum, your legs shaking, he pulls away. this fact seems to make you squirm again, as he pushes you completely onto the ground, before fully hiking your dress up and over your breasts.
“i’m only inspecting you, sweetheart. not to give you pleasure. so, stay. still.” he speaks as his hands grab at your breasts, beginning to squeeze and fondle them as he pleases. he bounces them, while pinching your nipples, as you try to gulp down any arousal you still feel. “you’re a very pretty girl, aren’t you little red?” he hums, glancing at the red hood surrounding you on the ground. “tell me, why aren’t you some hunter looking to kill tiny animals?” he hums out as he keeps playing with your breasts, pushing them together, before circling your nipples.
through hard breathes you manage “i’m going to see my…my grandmother.” the monster grins. “with these breads? how sweet of you.” he coos, as he nudged your legs apart again, flicking at your clit experimentally, as he keeps playing with your tits. “i don’t usually get little things wandering into my forest. and certainly not this far in.” he then catches your gaze as he leans towards you. “now be a good girl f’me, and flip over.” he whispers, so close to your lips. after your pause he continues. “eating you is still an option. i haven’t had something delicious in a whi—“
but he’s cut off as you quickly turn around on the ground, his grip on your hips keeping them raised, as he grins. “that’s it…” you’re now pressed up against the grass, your ass stuck out for him as he taps at your pussy, making you jolt a fraction. “you’re rather tiny…” his tone gives away that he likes this fact, his fingers spreading your pussy lips as you then feel something hard pressed against your clit. you can’t see him, but can instantly tell what he’s about to do. you grip the grass again, looking for stability in this unstable situation.
from the taps of his cock against your pussy you can feel how weighted it is. the hint at his size making your fear accelerate. he then begins to push the head of his cock into your entrance making a small cry leave you. and once he begins to rut into you relentlessly, your body moving along the ground at his harsh thrusts, your mind turns dizzy. your lips parting as you claw at the grass, ripping out strands. “are you drooling, sweetheart?” he hums. “open your mouth wider, let me see.” he gazes at your face, pushed up against the ground, as he fucks you from behind.
you slowly open your mouth, as his fingers slip down and drag at the flesh of your inside bottom lip. “just as soaked as your cunt is, huh?” he then begins to play with your tongue, coating your spit over his claws and fingers. “making such a mess.” he coos, as his balls slap against your clit making a small whimper fall past his fingers. his free hand grips your hair, pulling your head slightly back as his cock goes deeper, making you cry out, drooling even more over his fingers. “how bout this…” he says, a little breathless from how well your hole is taking him. “your grandma can have your breads and pastries.” he glances at the basket, haphazardly thrown to the side. “and i can have you.”
he sticks his fingers further into your mouth until you’re practically gagging, your tits bouncing as he thrusts his hips into you. “that sounds fair doesn’t it?” he’s nodding, licking at his lower lip as he murmurs “dios…” you can hear his breathing change, showing he’s getting close. as his cock twitches inside you, he pulls out, bringing you around to kneeling by the grip of his fingers in your mouth. he holds your mouth wide open as he rests his cock on your tongue. “give it a lick, little red.” he’s so close. with drool coating your lower lip in a shimmer, and his fingers hooked inside, you drag your tongue over the tip of his cock, as his hips shudder, finally spilling down your throat.
he makes a mess of your mouth, your only solution being to swallow. you gulp down as much as you can, though some spill out due to the unwavering grip of his fingers in your mouth. he stares down at you, a new emotion behind his eyes, that says more than a passing hunger. he grabs your chin and leans down to lick the remaining mix of cum and drool off your lips. your mind is reeling, this whole situation feeling like a fever dream.
“i’m sure your grandmother is worried about you.” he hums, running his thumb over your chin and swollen lips. “you should get going. and don’t forget the pretty flowers.” his words are far too sinister to make you stand with a skip in your step. as he soothes your dirty dress down and fixes your hood, his cock away as if nothing had happened. he hands you back your basket, your shaky hands gripping it. “now run along, little girl. and please do remember to visit your poor, sick grandmother more often.”
*REPOST* (A comment if this reached your feed would be amazing.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, Gang bang, 141 being creepy and dark, Virgin!reader, reader being innocent, oral sex (m&f receiving), coercion, drugs & alcohol, roofies, double penetration, unprotected sex, pure filth. (Sorry if I missed any.)
GET A WATER BEFORE YOU READ 🥵
You were excited to be chosen to be apart of Task Force 141.
You felt special because you know only the most skilled are chosen for the team.
Your first few weeks on the base was awesome. It was pretty hands on, missions every week. There was always something around every corner, but once Hassan had been eliminated, there wasn’t much to do other than your chores around the base. You did your fair share of research but there weren’t any new leads on the next target. It was boring and most of your time you spent inside your room on base.
You noticed that everyone was pretty quiet on base. They didn’t do much talking and they seemed to have this dark look in their eyes when they looked at you.
You ignored it and always made conversation with them anyways, not wanting any tension between you. You noticed sometimes they made jokes about you right in front of you, mostly about how innocent you are. You didn’t like that they made fun of you, but you always just laughed it off.
You did your best at being patient with them.
Sometimes you didn’t like what they had to say about other women on base or had previously been on it with them. They usually said pretty derogatory insults. Or gross ones you didn’t want to cause any trouble so you stayed quiet, usually just excusing yourself from the table. You didn’t want to hear it.
You sat at your desk in your assigned room. It was quiet. You were looking through a stack of paper, looking for any leads on a next target. A knock at your door brought you out of your thoughts, turning to look at the door. “Come in!” You called.
“Hey. We’re playing a drinking game. You want to play?” Gaz asks. “Uh.. I don’t know about that.” You laugh. Knowing that something like this probably wouldn’t go too well. He crosses his arms. “Oh come on.. don’t be such a prude.” He rolls his eyes. You sigh. You had a bad feeling about this. He continues to pressure you for a few minutes before you finally cave in. “Alright fine.” You stand up from your desk, following him out.
Everyone is already waiting. They have everything laid out on the table. It’s the large oak table in the meeting room. They’re all sitting around it. “Alright. We’re starting with one on one. You and Ghost will go against each other first.” You look confused. “Just so you’ll get used to it, yeah? You have to throw the penny into the shot glass while blindfolded, if you don’t make it, you have to drink. Whoever drinks all 5 shots first loses.” You nod your head. They pass you a blindfold, Gaz helps you tie it behind your head. The small shot glasses are lined up in front of you.
You don’t see that they never put a blindfold on Ghost.
Ghost takes the tiny vial of white crushed powder out of his pocket, he’d come prepared. This had been planned out for some time.
He taps the vial until it’s empty into the first shot glass, allowing you to go first. You miss the first shot, and they pass you the shot glass. Evil smiles playing at their lips. You had no idea what was about to happen. You tip it back, flinching at the taste of the liquor as it burns your throat. You miss all 5 of your shots and somehow, Ghost doesn’t miss one. You’re 5 shots in, feeling out of it. They catch up a little bit, taking shots here or there just to give themselves a little bit of liquid courage. “So. How long have you been in the military?” Soap asks. You smile. “Few years.” Your words are slurred and you’re almost exactly where they want you. “Yeah? You were on bases before this obviously. Got a favorite?” He asks. “Not really. Aside from this one.” You shrug. “Yeah?” He smirks. “You a barracks bunny Y/N?” He asks. “What’s that?” You ask, confused.
He laughs, he just can’t help it. “So innocent..” he mumbles. “It’s a girl who has sex with everyone on base.” He smirks. Your eyes go wide. “Oh.. no. No I’m not.”
“Hey, I’m not judging.” He laughs. “I’m not a… barracks bunny.” Your cheeks are on fire. “I’m just fucking with you darling, relax.” He places his hand on your thigh. “Here. Drink more. Loosen up.” You start to notice the amount of pressure they’re putting on you. “I don’t know. I think I’m done.” You laugh nervously. “Oh come on. Don’t be such a buzz kill.” He rolls his eyes. He convinces you to take another few shots, your face is hot and the heat between your legs is becoming too much to bear. You notice they’re passing around a joint.
When they offer it to you, you shake your head. “I don’t really think we should be doing this.” You breathe, going to stand up. You find it’s pretty hard to move. “All is good here. It’s my base after all.” Captain Price reassures you. You’re so close to where they need you.
After about an hour of passing around the joint, convincing you to take more and more shots of liquor. You’re ready.
“You ever met a barracks bunny before?” Soap asks. You shrug. “Heard rumors.” You giggle. “Yeah. Must be pretty fun I imagine. I mean.. getting to fuck that much in one day.” He smiles, tipping back a shot. “You ever fucked more than one person in a day Y/N?” He asks. You shake your head shyly. “No.. I’ve never had sex.” You mumble. “Why not?” He asks. “Religious?” He smirks. “Oh no.. it’s nothing to do with that. Just.. never crossed paths with the right person.” You shrug. “I was always bullied for being ugly in school too so..” you laugh. “Really?” Gaz gathers your attention. You nod your head. “Jesus.. that’s fucked up. And not true, you’re stunning.” He smiles, resting his hand on your thigh. “Oh.. thank you.” You smile. “Yeah, I’d fuck you.”
Your cheeks burn and you avoid his gaze. “Yeah I’d fuck you too.” Soap winks. You laugh, looking away from them. “Maybe you should let us.” Gaz lifts your chin to make you look at him. “W-what?” You ask. “Yeah. Maybe you could be our little barracks bunny hm?” He smiles. “I… I don’t know about that.” You breathe. “Oh come on.. we’ll take good care of you sweetheart. Nothing to worry about.” He moves himself closer to you. “I just.. I don’t know. I thought maybe I’d start slow for my first time.”
“We can start slow. Come on.” He tilts his head. You take in a deep breath as he takes your hand, helping you up. “Gaz.. I’m really not sure about this.” You swallow hard, your words are unstable and you’re unsteady on your feet as he lifts you up onto the wooden table. “Hey. Just relax alright?” He brushes your hair back behind your ear. You’re so far gone you can barely think straight. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll be real gentle with you.” He pushes you back by your chest gently. You’re tense as he reaches for the waistband of your pants. You can’t help but like the attention you’re getting from them. Maybe it’s the weed or liquor. Your blood feels hot in your veins, body warm and fuzzy as they surround you. “Fuck.. look at you.” Ghost mumbles. Running his fingers down your chest. You look up at him, the sweet look in your eyes has his stomach curling. It’s almost as if you have no idea what they’re about to do to you. The filthy things running through their heads, about to play out like a film.
“So pretty. Such a good girl.” Ghost mumbles. You close your eyes, biting your lip lightly as you relax into the table. He grasps the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.
You’ll be the perfect bunny after this.
Gaz has your panties at your ankles and they’re drooling, like a pack of wild dogs. “Captain. She was your idea, get in here.” Gaz nods at his Captain.
John smiles, moving between Soap and Gaz. He moves himself up until his clothed crotch is pressed up against your bare pussy. He sighs. Running his hand over your chin. “You are pure sin my darling. So fucking pretty.” He breathes. He slides a finger into your mouth and you take it, sucking gently at it. He groans out. He pulls away from you, Unzipping his pants just enough to where he can free his cock. "Are you ready darling?" He asks. His cock is standing at attention. The tip is blushing red. Begging for release. He's huge. You don't know how he's supposed to fit. You're looking up at him, he can tell you're nervous. "It's alright. Relax for me okay?" You nod your head, resting on your arms.
Not only are you about to give your virginity to your captain, but your entire task force is watching. Waiting to be next up. A whimper leaves your lips when he glides his tip up through your folds. You’re dizzy, everything feels fuzzy.
Your reaction speed is off, only feeling the tightness from his cock after he’s already buried himself inside of you. You shift uncomfortably, whimpering and trying to slide your hips away from him. “Hey. You’ll get used to me. Calm down.” He soothes. He holds your hips steady. Another whine leaves your lips, tears filling up your eyes. Ghost is quick to soothe you, helping you lay back on the table. Soap is running his fingertips over your stomach, soothing your skin. Ghost cups your face, his warm breath on your face distracts you from the tearing you feel from your Captains massive cock. You weren’t ready but you would be. “Shhh. S’alright. Should start to feel good soon.” Ghost mumbles, kissing your tears away.
They’re evil. Devils standing around you, waiting to devour you whole. They’d had this planned from the start. They planned it all out. What they’d do to you, how they’d get you to give into them.
You’re starting to pant, your legs are numb but you can feel the pleasure of him sliding into your pussy. “Cmon, prop yourself up.” Ghost helps you. “Watch him. Watch him fuck your pussy.” You gasp out, clutching at the sides of the table as you see it. He’s slid his shirt up over his hips, and you can get a good look at the way he slides into you. Hands gripping at your hips. It’s intense. You tilt your head back, moaning out. Your brain is a blur, all you can think about is how good he feels. You wince when you feel something building, pushing your hips into him more. “F-feels weird.” You whimper. “S’alright. Just get used to it.” You whimper, holding yourself steady so that he can get the perfect angle. “Feels.. it feels- ah!” You cry out.
You soak your Captain’s jeans, and his eyes are wide.
You’re panting, pulling away from him. “I.. I’m sorry.” You whimper. He grasps your thighs, pulling you back down. “Fuck.. didn’t know you could do that.” He breathes.
Their eyes are blown wide with lust, cocks throbbing behind cargo pants and jeans. They all want a piece of you. They all want to make you squirt on them.
“Didn’t take long to make her do that Cap.” Gaz laughs. “Course not. I know exactly what girls like her like.” He smiles. You’re looking up at him, a look in your eyes they haven’t seen yet. Your chest is rising and falling with every deep breath you take. “Did you like that baby?” He asks. You nod your head lazily. He smiles, sliding himself back inside of you. Seeing your eyes close. You tilt your head back, moaning out at the way he fills you up. Eyes are burning into you, the tension in the room is thick. John is not as gentle as he was to start, thrusting into you with more force than before. It was clear you were going to be a wreck when they were finished with you. He’s got a tight grip on your thighs, head tilted back as you wrap so tight around him. “Fuck.. so fucking tight-“ he hisses. “Not going to last long with you darling.” He chuckles. You’re gripping the table hard, knuckles turning white. He lifts your legs up onto his shoulders and you cry out as he bottoms out, your lower stomach cramps up slightly from the new angle. “Ah- fuck!” He growls. He pulls out of you, pumping his cock fast with his hand. He pushes your legs apart slightly, finishing on your stomach with a groan. You tilt your head back, panting out. “Did so good.” Ghost mumbles, brushing your hair out of your face.
“Sit up.” He breathes. He helps you adjust yourself. You’re propped up on your hands and knees. Feet hooking over the edge of the table, ass on display for them all to see. “W-what now?” You breathe. “Just going to get you ready darling. Calm down.” He rests his gloved hand onto your back. He’s trying to soothe you. You hear what sounds like a cap clicking shut, turning to see Ghost putting lube on his aching cock. He’s massive.
Thank god your Captain stretched you a little bit.
“Cmere.” Ghost pulls you back into him. Pushing your back down until you’re low enough to be lined up with his cock. You feel him nudging at your ass, jumping away from him. Your reaction time is slow. “I- woah. I don’t think I’m ready for that-“ you breathe. “It’s okay.” He grasps your hips again, pulling you back. “Be a good girl and be still.”
“Ghost I-“
“Simon.” He growls. “Simon I don’t think I’m ready.” You whimper. “Relax. I won’t hurt you.” He breathes.
You suck in a sharp breath, feeling his bare fingers circling your tight hole, nudging into you deeper with each pump. At least he’d ditched his glove. You flinch away from his touch as he seeps deeper into you. You take in a deep breath. “S’alright. Doing so good lass.” Soap moves next to Simon, circling his fingers over your clit at an attempt to make you relax. It works and you relax into Johnny’s touch, body relaxing slightly. You make it easier on Simon as you relax, his fingers sliding easier into you. The feeling is foreign. It doesn’t hurt and it’s not bad. You relax into him more. Johnny keeps rubbing gentle circles over your clit. You’re a mess already.
You feel Simon’s cock nudging at your entrance and you’re nervous. He’s much bigger than his fingers. A whine leaves your lips when he pushes into you, cock burrowing deeper into your ass. The feeling is too much. You lean forward away from his aching cock, but he follows you with his hips, reaching forward to stop you and hold you still. “Relax into me.” He breathes. “Keep rubbing her clit Johnny.” He spits on the base of his cock, working himself deeper. Johnny does, keeps rubbing gentle circles into your clit so that you’ll relax more. You let out a mewl, the sensation was too much. “Halfway there darling. Just.. a little more.” He breathes. You’re clutching the table, whimpering with each small circle Johnny runs over your entrance. It’s so good. They’re pushing you so much. When your ass finally presses against Simon’s front, he groans out. You’ve taken him all of the way.
You whimper, moving your hips forward and back into his cock. “Oh fuck baby. You want it that bad huh?” He smirks. “Don’t worry. Me n Johnny are gonna fill you up real nice.” He breathes. You can’t say anything, your vision is blurry and you’ve got tears in your eyes but all you know is that whatever this is, it feels amazing. Simon lifts you up off of the table, Johnny moving to your front and grasping hold of you by your thighs. Sliding his cock into your pussy. You straddle Johnny and Simon still had his cock buried inside your ass.
You tilt your head back with a cry, so completely full of them.
Your eyes roll back when they slide out of you, starting to thrust themselves back into you. You’re a mess, can barely stay quiet as they fuck you. “Fuck.. you’re so tight.” Johnny growls. “Been waiting fucking months for this sweet pussy.” He chuckles, teeth gritted. “How does it feel hm?” He mumbles, lips right by your ear. “Went from a body count of 0 to 3 in just a few minutes Hm?” He taunts.
You’re sobbing. Hands are clutching Johnny’s shoulders and your body is shaking. You’ve absolutely soaked them both in your cum, unsure of where you even are anymore. You probably can’t even say your own name at this point. Everything is blurry and fuzzy, you can’t move your body anymore. They’re holding you exactly where they want you. You wrap your arms around Johnny’s neck, laying your head on his shoulder. “Can’t be done yet sweetheart.” He chuckles. “Gaz hasn’t had a go at you yet. You don’t want him to be deprived so you?”
You shake your head, looking over his shoulder at Gaz. He’s pumping his cock, you lock eyes with him. You lick your lips and he nearly cums right there. “Ah- getting tired.” Soap complains. “Here.” Ghost grabs hold of you. Johnny slides out of you and you whimper. “Relax.” Ghost smirks. He lays you onto the table, pushing your face into the cool wood. His hips are hammering against yours, thrusts getting sloppy. He’s close. “Oh yes- fuck I love fucking this tight ass of yours. So fucking good.” He growls. His hand slapping against your ass makes you want to jump forward but you can’t. A whimper leaves your lips, tightening down around Ghost. “Oh fuck- I’m going to cum.” He pants. “Fuck- oh fuck!” He gasps. His hips halt and you gasp, the foreign feeling of something flooding inside of you. You finally raise your head to look at him. His hands resting on your hips. Cock nestled inside of your ass.
He slides out of you, watching his filth spill back out of your hole. He smiles at the work he’d done. Soap is quick to flip you over, burying his cock back inside of you. “Just one more. And than you’re going to treat Kyle very well darling.” He smirks. You nod your head lazily. Johnny pinches your nipples, smiling at the way you cry out. “Fuckin tight pussy baby. Give me one more hm?” He smiles. He rubs circles over your clit with his thumb. A whine leaves your lips and you try to wiggle your hips away from him but he holds you still. You can feel another orgasm building. Right on the edge. You push his hand away from you, running circles over your own clit. You’re going quickly. “Yeah that’s a good girl.” He grips your hips, pounding into you. “You rub that little clit for me. Nice n fucking wet for my cock.” He tilts his head back, swallowing hard. His skin is sweaty and red and he’s right on the edge. Your moans are getting louder and more frequent. Your hand is moving quickly as you rub your clit. “Fuck yes!” He growls. Your eyes roll back, body lurching as you cum again. Soaking him completely. He holds you steady until you’re worn out, sliding out of you and finishing right on your stomach, just like his captain had.
He’s panting, and your eyes are droopy.
“You can’t sleep yet.” Soap tries to shake you awake. “It’s fine. I’ll get it out of her one way or another.” Gaz laughs. Soap nods his head.
“I’ll take her to her room, get her cleaned up.”
Gaz made sure to do a good job. You were already undressed so running a bath for you and using a small towel to clean your skin was easy. Washing your hair was a bit harder. You were out cold. He redressed you in one of his shirts, helping you into bed.
When the light just began to show through your window, he knew it was his turn.
You’re still out cold but he knew this would wake you.
His face buried between your thighs, tongue lapping at your entrance. Sucking your clit and flicking his tongue over your clit. You’re stirring in your sleep, moaning. Your eyes open and you’re still dazed, but you know whatever you’re feeling is amazing. You push your blanket back, whining out at the sight of him between your thighs. “Gaz?” You whimper. He draws himself away from you. “You still owe me princess.” He breathes, returning to devour you. “What do you want me to do?” You whine. Your pussy is sore, but he’s soothing you. “M’gonna fuck this pussy. Nice n slow.” He pulls away for a second, sucking your clit between his lips and drawing away from you. “Show you who you belong to.” He breathes. You nod your head. He sits up, his cock is throbbing hard.
He pushes his sweatpants down his legs, pumping his hard cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. “Actually..” he mumbles. Pulling away. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve gone hm? Get up.” You listen, standing up. He lays down. “Get up here. I’ll help you.” He mumbles. You nod your head, straddling his hips and sinking down onto his cock. Your thighs shiver at the size of him, a mewl leaving your lips. “Ah- too much.” You whimper. “You’ll get used to it. Ride my cock baby.” You nod your head, rocking your hips into him. You rest your hands on his chest, raising your hips off of him. He circles your clit with his fingers, he needs to cum soon. He’s been waiting all night for this, he’s not going to last long.
You’re rocking into him faster, moaning out. You’re enjoying yourself and that’s exactly what he wants. “Who do you belong to darling? Who’s barracks bunny are you?” He smirks. “Y-yours-“ you whimper. A sharp slap to your ass has you whimpering. “Wrong, who do you belong to? Who’s barracks bunny are you?”
“141.” You whine. “Hm? I didn’t hear you.” He breathes. “Task Force 141, I’m task force 141’s barracks bunny!” You cry. Your hips halt as you soak him, and he cries out, pushing your hips off of him as he finishes. “Shit!” He growls. Pumping his cock quickly, costing your ass in his cum.
You relax into him, panting.
He once again helps you clean up, but leaves you alone this time. You needed to rest.
While you were on base with them, you were always going to keep them busy.
May I please request a barracks bunny / glory hole Reader x TF41?
"She feel good?"
You cracked your eyes open at your captain's rough voice, words a little drawled. He was leaned back comfortably in the chair, cigar in hand, gaze completely focused on the three of you.
"Fuckin' perfect, sir," Gaz breathed, gaze near worshipful on you.
Soap squeezed your hip from his place behind you. "Agreed," was all he managed, still settling from working his way into your ass.
"Start slowly," Price ordered, taking a breath in from his cigar.
Gaz moved first, groaning softly, the noise obscene with the remnants of your captain's cum still leaking out of you. You shuddered hard, one hand caught in his, the other held tight in Soap's.
"Alright, hen?" Soap asked, lips gentle against your neck.
"Uh huh." You tipped your head to give him more room, barely lucid, clinging to them both and barely clinging to sanity.
"Relax." Ghost this time, thumb brushing a bit of salt from your lips. Probably his own. "Let them do the work." Humor and lust glinted in his eyes.
"Says the man who didn't," Soap grunted, still moving slowly, counterpoint to Gaz. They passed you back and forth, rocking between them as easily as breathing.
Gaz huffed, tipping your chin to kiss you, open mouthed and messy. Which did nothing to muffle you - they moved faster and you got louder.
"So fuckin' tight," Soap hissed, hips bucking out of turn.
You slumped against Gaz, mind going hazy with overwhelming pleasure until Ghost curled a hand around the base of your skull, tipping your head to meet his gaze.
"No passing out yet," he ordered, low and rough. "We're not done with you."
yes!!! miguel is so into dumbification!!! can we get a hc for that? i feel like he goes all crazy when you cry, like starts laughing and going faster! <33 tyty
you ofc can!!! 18+only MDNI cw: smut, dumbification, creampie, p in v penetration
miguel knows it’s mean, knows he’s messing with your head but you just look so fucking pretty like this that he can’t bring himself to feel bad.
your legs are on his shoulders, hands gripping the sheets as he leans down and fucks into you.
you gasp, eyes rolling back as you feel him move deeper. it should be illegal for anyone to fuck this good.
he’s already pulled four orgasms from you and you’re sure he’s going to try to pull more but you can’t fight it- it feels too good.
“miguel,” you groan, hands tugging the sheets as the man above you rolls his hips.
“qué amor?” he murmurs, sweat dribbling down his chest. when you don’t answer he rolls your clit and you scream making him laugh.
“please,” you beg and he smirks.
“please what? you know you have to use your words, princesa.” you can’t and he knows it, the extent of your vocabulary right now is his name and pleads.
his hips keep moving and the head of his cock keeps spearing against your cervix and you can’t think. not when his thumb continues rolling your clit.
your hands move from the sheets to his chest, nails digging into his skin as he speeds up.
“fuck,” you cry, body shaking as your fifth orgasm crests.
“you can take it baby,” miguel licks your neck, biting the tender skin there as he feels your cunt clench faster. “just let go for me.”
tears stream down your face as you come, hiccuping when miguel starts chasing his own release.
“look at you,” his hand reaches your face, thumb whisking away your tears. “feels good doesn’t it?” he’s mocking you now, but you can’t tell the difference so you nod anyway.
miguel chuckles a little just before he fills you up. his hand brushes away your hair, lips finding yours and then your cheek.
“you okay?” he whispers, hands stroking your thighs as he puts them down on the bed.
“yeah,” your voice is airy, eyes unfocused as you look at him. “need a minute.” you admit and he smiles, kissing your nose before flipping you both over.
“sorry,” he coos at your whimper, stroking your back to help you relax on top of him.
