currently open for requests/ideas!

We Pariahs ----A Matter of _ Series ---------Part 1: Levine ---------Part 2: Jay  ---------Part 3: Rex

College Craze

-----Gabe

---------Patience

Genshin Impact

----Diluc

---------Retribution

Your side had been losing for a while now.

It was stupid to go up against the Tsaritsa anyway, but your people had hope. Your little outcrop of adventurers, with more spirit than supplies, had barely stepped foot in Szneznaya before the Fatui were on to you. The plan was to sneak across the border, destroy a base or two, and leave, only coming back to do it again once the coast was clear. Of course, the coast was never going to be clear. 

Some of your companions fell to frostbite. Others were captured by the Fatui, too slow to escape their clutches. Your last friend left the camp to hunt for food, and they never came back. If they screamed out for help, or let out a wail of anguish, you would not have been able to hear it over the roar of the wind, the sting of the snow.

Now, it was just you, and as you stared into the pitiful dregs of your fire, fighting as hard as you were to stay alive, the last one of your group, you could barely hold onto hope.

You were about to drift into an anxious sleep when you heard something behind you. A twig snapped, or a flask dropped, whatever it was didn’t matter.  Something had made an impact in the snow despite the blanket of quietness it cast around you. 

That something was a tall, imposing figure, his blank blue eyes and red hair looking all too familiar to you. Here was the eleventh Harbinger, standing before you, dwarfing your shivering form.

"I've been following you and your little militia for days now. I'm surprised any of you lasted this long, but I'm glad you're the last one left. You've been my favorite to watch." His smile curled upwards, tongue darting out to lick a spot of blood on the edge of his mouth.

Your hand is desperate to curl around the hilt of your sword. You shift from looking at him to your bag, wondering if you could possibly grab something, anything, to defend yourself from this man.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you, buddy."

You looked back up at him, only to find the head of an arrow pointed right at your face, notched and a single movement away from ending everything. 

"You look terrified. Oh, I'm so jealous of whatever agents got to your group first. They must've had a lot of fun leading the welcome party, huh?"

Arrow still aimed at you, he crouches down.

"Truth be told, I was only a few steps behind them. Your group looked interesting, might even put up a halfway-decent fight. And then a couple of you fell, but you didn't. I could practically smell the anger radiating off of you, how excited you were to fight for what you believed in. And then you and your party retreated! You ran away! And, well, I couldn't just let you go like that. So, I've been tracking you all for a while, waiting for my chance to really get to know you. And then, your last companion walked away, and, well, let's just say they won't be coming back."

It's this moment when you where the blood on the edge of his mouth came from, what was crusting the tip of the arrow too close to your eyes.

You can barely choke out your question.

"Why are you doing this?"

His eyes widen a little.

"You're trying to overthrow the Tsaritsa, and you didn’t think I was just going to leave it alone, did you? It’s my job,” he said, putting down his bow and leaning towards you, his face close enough for you to get a hit in, but his dull stare had you paralyzed. "Try to make this fun for me, okay?” He lunges towards you, pushing you into the freezing cold below.

His breath comes out in quick, heavy pants, falling on your throat and making your skin heat up. 

“You put up such a fight,” he said, tongue ghosted over your jugular, his canines coming dangerously close to ripping you open, blood staining the snow below you scarlet.

Maybe that’s what he wanted. If he had been hunting you down for as long as he said, he’s been waiting for you. Humans are endurance hunters, after all.

“Can’t believe I finally caught you,” disbelief and yearning combining into one sentence that made your heart beat faster. His hands gripped at your jacket, ripping open the seams and yanking it down, biting down hard on your exposed shoulder. 

You hold back a cry, not wanting him to know how humiliated you felt under him.

“Aw, that’s no fun,” he murmured. “I wanna hear you scream. You know there’s no one around to hear you.”

He wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed. 

Black dots danced at the edge of your vision, mouth hanging open in a desperate attempt to suck in as much air as you could. He was pressing hard enough to crush your windpipe.

Just when you felt yourself on the brink of passing out, he took his hand away, watching you gasp and sputter.

When you finally caught your breath, he was still looking at you, his smile too big for his face. His hand came down to his crotch, where you could see his cock straining the front of his pants. As he pulled down his zipper, you wanted to back away, grab whatever you could and run.

But you couldn't. Who knows how badly he would've squeezed you if you tried. You had been too consumed with your feeble plans of escape that you didn't notice he had taken the hunting knife from your friend and was now holding it dangerously close to the space between your legs. You didn't even get a chance to beg before he took the knife to the rest of your clothes, effortlessly shredding through wool and cotton to expose you to the frigid air.

"I think it's time I take my prize, yeah?" He said, lining himself up with your entrance.

He thrust himself in and moved wildly, in an uncoordinated rhythm highlighted by his ragged breathing, every exhale putting an uncomfortable heat on your throat.

You stayed silent, despite the torture.

"I said I wanted to hear you scream." He stopped moving, pulling away to look at you.

He grabbed the knife again. 

"Let me explain. If you scream out who's taking you right now, if you call me by my title, I won't cut you open like prey and leaves your guts for the scavengers. You know who I am, right?"

You nod, saying, “You’re, you’re, Tartaglia.”

“Damn right,” he huffed, moving faster and faster inside of you, hands gripping and bruising your skin. “You feel so good, too good to leave behind.”

You tense up as he finishes, standing back up to readjust his clothes.

Jay sighed, drumming his hands on the steering wheel and trying to not look at your dorm too much. You had said you wanted to hang out tonight, and even when he tried to resist you, told himself time and time again that you were just gonna get each other in trouble he just couldn’t stay away.

Jay wasn’t one to get too caught up in girls. He had much bigger things to think about, and worrying about the girls that kept throwing themselves at him in hopes of scoring something other than drugs wasn’t something he liked to do.

You, though, you were different. You were good. He couldn’t stop thinking about what you looked like in that dingy-ass club, dress clinging to your curves like plastic wrap. He needed to give you his hoodie, or he was gonna do something stupid. He remembered how you looked at him with so much trust in your eyes. 

Not enough trust to tell him about the freak who’s been stalking you, but you and him were going to talk about it, and everything was going to be ok, and you would be able to go back to your studies and out of his head.

You were taking so long to get ready. Jay was about to pick up his phone and call when you finally walked out of your building. He hated the way his heart leapt in his chest and the blood rushed to his head and maybe the other head too.

You shot him a smile as you climbed into the passenger seat. Part of you wished he had parked closer to your dorm, but you knew why he wanted his car behind the trees, far from the prying eyes of campus.

He really, really wanted to smile back at you, but what he had learned at the police station earlier that day was forming a hard lump in the back of his throat. He wanted to pretend things were fine, but he didn’t go for games like that, and he needed to know you were being smart about this psycho.

He turned his face to the windshield.

He’s acting weird, you thought.

“Hey, Jay, is everything ok?” you asked. Did a deal fall through? Was Triggs being stupid again?”

“Don’t play like that, ok?” He scoffed. 

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Well, this is kind of annoying. You weren’t playing like anything, as far as you knew.

He clenched his jaw. 

“I know what you’ve been going through, so you can’t keep that shit from me. Your life is your life, but-”

“But what?” What the hell is he talking about? He’s acting like he did in the club a couple nights ago, all overprotective and cagey.

“But you got a fuckin stalker!” he snapped back, voice tinged with anger. If the car had been running, he probably would have hit the breaks.

“What? How do you know about that?” you yelled back. 

“Went to the cops to bail out my boy Triggs, overheard them talking about it. You gotta tell me about these things.”

The energy in the car shifted. You were mad now. 

“Why? You don’t trust me to handle my life on my own?”

“Let me protect you, ma,” he pleaded, turning to face you. Damn him and his stupid sweet face, but you were still upset.

“I don’t need protection. Certainly not from you,” you retorted, turning to face the window. You were being kind of rude, but he was the one who started it.

This act of indignation snapped something in him. Gone was the sweet girl wandering around Toffee Springs, replaced by someone who needed to be taught their place. Needed to be taught who was in charge, who knew best.

And with his emotions running high, he was more than willing to do that to you.

“C’mere”, he grunts, barely giving you a chance to react before pulling your body over the console and into his lap. You’re forced to straddle him, and you can already feel his getting harder underneath his sweatpants.

“Jay, I-” you try to say, but he cuts your voice off with a kiss. His mouth crushes yours’, driving the steering wheel into your back. You can barely breathe. What is he doing? This was still Jay, but there was something in him that was rough, angry.

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be scared, but you were definitely a little turned on. Still frustrated, but now just sexually.

He keeps kissing you, barely giving you a chance to pull away and catch your breath. Eventually, he pulls back and stares at you, taking in your wide eyes and swollen lips. You were gorgeous like this. 

He needed you, now.

He pulls back and reached into the waistband of his sweatpants, palming his throbbing cock. Fuck, he was already so hard, just from making out. It needed to be sheathed inside you, now. That was the only way you were gonna learn. 

“I hope you’re ready, Ma,” he breathes as he takes out his erection. 

Holy shit. It’s so big, pulsing with desire and already leaking.

“I’m not gonna be able to fit all that, Jay. Please.”

“Nah, I don’t believe that. You’re gonna take it all like the good girl I know you are, and you’re gonna enjoy every inch I give you. It’s gonna remind you who you fucking belong to, yeah?”

You can’t help but shiver at his words and raise your thighs up, motioning for him to give it to you.

He grabs your hips and drops you down onto his dick, barely letting you adjust to his size before starting to rock his body up and down.

A lightning bolt of pleasure immediately shoots up your spine, causing your eyes to roll back into your head and your tongue to loll out of your mouth. To Jay, you looked perfect.

If you just needed to piss him off to get him to do this to you, you would’ve acted out a long time ago, as terrible as that sounded.

He buries his face in your neck to hide his moans. Thank God he parked the car far away from where other people walk.

He keeps bouncing on his dick, and from the way his breathing is getting shorter, and he can’t speak much apart from a string of curse words, you know he’s close.

“Fuck, ma, I hope you’re ready. Take it, baby. Cum for me, show me who’s yours.” he orders, and you’ve already disobeyed him so much you just have to give in.

You feel yourself clench around him and waves of pleasure rush through your head and leave you dizzy. He’s still thrusting into you, chasing the high no drug could ever give.

“Who you gonna listen to? That fucking stalker doesn’t who he’s fucking with. Whose man are you?” he growled.

You have to give him what he wants.

“Jay. It’s you, Jay!” you moan, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm. 

That sets him over the edge as he finishes inside you, warm cum dripping out of you as he pulls out. 

He reached for a tissue on the dashboard to wipe you up, and you move back to the passenger seat, readjusting your clothes in case anyone decides to investigate.

“Jay, I-” you start, but your words die as soon as they leave your lips. You aren’t really sure what to say. Do you yell at him? Apologize? Make up an excuse and get out of his car as quickly as possible?

Maybe you’re embarrassed because of how much you enjoyed all of that, all of him. 

He looks back at you, eyes a little downcast. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

“I lost control there, Ma. I’m sorry. I’m just worried ‘bout you is all.”

Now it was your turn to blush.

“No, I should've told you about the stalker. I’m sorry. I think I’m so used to being on my own, it’s hard to trust people with this kind of thing. But-” you paused, turning to look at him, falling into his warm brown eyes, dangerous but kind.

“But, I trust you. And you need to trust me a little more, ok? You being overprotective is hot, but not you getting upset at me. Let’s handle our issues like adults.” This sure was some weird pillowtalk. 

There was something else you wanted to say. 

“Oh, and let me know what kind of fun we’re gonna be having next time we hang out, ok?” you smiled at him.

This was supposed to be a quick job. 

There had been rumors sent down the Fatui ranks that the Darknight Hero was somewhere on the outskirts of Mondstadt. All of your previous missions had been to simply keep on eye on the people, build trust in the community, make everyone see the Tsaritsa the same way you did. 

But, you were a new recruit, and new recruits always got the worse jobs.

That’s why you were currently stalking outside of the Dawn Winery, waiting for the staff to change shifts so you could sneak in. You had been told the owner, Diluc Ragnvindr, was a quiet, caged man with more secrets in his mansion than casks of wine, and you just needed to get in, grab any important-looking records, and get out. You didn’t quite know what you were looking for, but if this man was as suspicious as he seemed, he must know something. Maybe, he’d even have something signifying that he was supplying the Darknight Hero with weapons, or intel, and you’d be rewarded handsomely for your work. 

But you’d save the dreams for after you proved yourself.

At the stroke of midnight, the maid posted in the foyer yawned and moved to the servants’ wing of the manor, closing the doors to the side rooms as she walked. This included the library, and from your view at the window, you could tell there was an open notebook out on the desk. You couldn’t believe her carelessness. 

It was perfect.

It didn’t take you long to drop into the room, thankful for the plush carpet underneath your feet to hide the sound. You should’ve approached the desk slower, been more careful, but you were new and cocky and too self-assured to worry about what your commanding officers had told you. Even if a guard had caught you, you would just the part of a starving thief who just needed a little money for dinner, maybe spend a night holed up in the Adventurers’ Guild until you could escape. 

The notebook on the desk, at first, looked like it was just filled with a ledger of purchases and costs, but after flipping through a few pages, you found a map of Mondstadt, scratchy x’s chronicling Fatui attacks, who was there, how they fought, if they fell. Diluc must be colluding with the Darknight hero; why else would he need this? You still had some questions, but if this information could help out the Tsaritsa, then it must be important. 

You were so focused on slipping the notebook into your satchel and making your exit that you didn’t notice the door open behind you, didn’t feel the room begin to warm or hear the clink of chains on leather.

“I didn’t know the Fatui would be so bold as to sneak into my own house,” a quiet yet commanding voice said behind you. You froze in your tracks, too startled and scared to turn around.

“I’m sorry, sir, I just wanted to find some food, you must understand-”

A hand gripped the back of your neck, trapping the rest of your excuse.

“Save it. You Fatui never learn, do you? I suppose you’ll have to be taught a lesson, then,” he said, before slamming your head forward on the desk, causing your vision to go dark. 

---

When you come to, you aren’t even sure if you’ve truly woken up because of how dark the room is around you. It’s cold, and quiet, and the heavy pressure on your wrists further twists your stomach. 

Suddenly, a torch on the wall is lit, allowing you to confirm what you already suspected: you’re in a dungeon, likely underneath the winery, and there is little chance of escaping. But, there is still a chance.

A man stands in front of you, dressed in a deep crimson-colored longcoat. His hair is kept away in a high ponytail, allowing you to see the deep disgust settled in his eyes, burning away like embers. 

This must be Diluc Ragnvindr.

Your mouth is almost too dry to speak, but you need answers. You need something to report back when you get out.

“What do you know about the Darknight Hero?”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“The Fatui sent you to break into my mansion for that? The Darknight Hero is a mere public legend, hardly important enough to steal over.”

Mere legend? He must be lying. The notebook you found was too damning.

“He’s not a legend. You know who he is, and you’re helping him out! You need to let me go, or the Tsaritsa will have your head for this!”

His eyes narrow.

“Fine. You want the truth?”

You nod viciously, already testing your bonds again.

“I,” he says, leaning in towards you, “am the Darknight Hero.”

What you do next is stupid, but the rash soldiers you’ve grown up with would be proud of you. 

A glob of spit lands on his black leather shoe, marring the shiny surface. 

His mouth hardens into a thin line as he looks down at you. 

“Clean that up.”

Your eyes involuntarily widen at the order, ruining your attempts to remain calm.

“You heard me. If you want me to let you go, show me how sorry you really are for snooping. Clean. That. Up.”

You backed up further, your spine pressing into the hard brick of the dungeon walls. He followed your movements, crouching down and placing a hand on your thigh.

Diluc then activated his Pyro abilities.

You couldn’t help but scream as your skin began to blister, not enough to scar but just enough for your adrenaline to spike and the blood to rush in your ears.

“Make it stop, please, please make it stop! I’ll lick your shoe I’ll do anything, please!”

Your commanding officers would be ashamed of you right now, begging the Darknight Hero to let you lick his boot.

But, it would all be worth it once you got out and could watch the Harbingers raze his mansion to the ground.

You relent into his demands, bringing your head down to his shoe. Your tongue darts out to taste the leather, and you can’t help but wrinkle your nose at the earthy, musty odor of it. You start with small licks, hoping the pitiful display is enough to bore him and let you go with a promise to never come back.

When his hand grabs the back of your neck, you feel as though being let off easy will not be the case. He holds you there until you’ve moistened the entire length of his boot. The heady scent of it is making you dizzy. When he tugs your head up, pushing your open mouth onto his clothed length, you can’t help it when your tongue lolls out, wetting the rough material of his pants.

He holds your head there for a beat, staring down as you begin to suffocate, nose pushed to the base of his stiffening cock. Was he getting turned on by this? 

“You’re lucky you only have to lick my boot,” he snarls, before pushing you back to the ground. 

You meet his glare, channeling all of your rage and humiliation into your voice.

“You’ll be lucky if even your boots are left after I get out of here and tell the Fatui who you really are.”

Diluc moves to the heavy steel door, taking the torch out of its sconce. The flames illuminated his face, casting his sharp features into shadow, turning him into the beast you now knew he was.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You must not be as astute as I thought you were,” he taunted. “You’ll have plenty of time to apologize however I see fit, because you’re never leaving this place ever again.”

You heard the front door open, and a rush of nervous energy shot down your spine. Gabe had finally gotten home from running errands.

Before he left, he had asked you if you wanted to play a game. You had eagerly accepted. The stuff he liked to whisper in your ear during work had left you wanting whatever it was he had promised, and when he pulled out a pair of red fabric handcuffs from his nightstand, you couldn’t stop your legs from rubbing together in anticipation. 

“Now, kitten,“ he had said as he tightened the cuffs around your arms, now pinned behind your back. “I’m gonna be gone for a while, and I want you to wait for me. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You nodded back, feeling a little too turned on by what might happen to be sad about the fact that he even left. So, you watched him close the bedroom door behind him as you sat on the bed, kneeling for your master.

And that’s exactly where he found you when he finally came into his room, his eyes lighting up in excitement before remembering that he was a cool guy and steeling his gaze.

“Did you miss me, baby?” he asked, sitting on the bed next to you.

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you comfortable enough? Do you want to keep going?” he said, readjusting the cuffs and running a finger under them to rub at the imprints. He was being soft, but you knew that wasn’t going to last very long. He must’ve missed you too.

“Yes, sir. I want to keep going.”

In lieu of an order, he pressed a thumb to your mouth, the pad pushing at your top lip. You eagerly sucked the digit in, running your tongue along it, hollowing out your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down.

“Oh, fuck,” he growled, removing his thumb and replacing it with two other fingers, further stretching your mouth open. He started thrusting them in and out, making sure to reach the back of your throat. You couldn’t stop yourself from drooling; the spit trailing down your chin.

He chuckled. “You’re already making a mess of yourself, kitten. I wonder how else I can ruin you.”

He paused, taking his fingers out and trailing them down the side of your neck, resting at your collarbone.

“Well, baby? Do you want me to ruin you?”

You couldn’t even pretend to deny how much you wanted that, how badly the spot between your legs ached for him.

“Please, Gabe, sir, I want this, I want you, I-”

He cut off your ramblings with a squeeze around your throat. He narrowed his eyes at you, lips quirking up into the smile he always wore when he knew he was getting his way.

“Good. Then get on the floor, kneel between my legs, and suck.”

You did as he ordered, hands still tied behind you, unable to do anything but wait for him to pull his cock out and reward you. You watched him slowly unzip and lower his jeans, the toned muscles of his abdomen forming a V that dipped under his boxers. You could see how hard he was already, precum already staining the front of his shorts. Finally, he lowered those too.

He ran a hand through your hair, sweet and soft before digging into your scalp and pulling you forward. You parted your lips, and he quickly sheathed himself inside as you tried not to gag. He was so big, and even though this was nowhere near the first time you had done this, you still weren’t used to it.

That didn’t bother Gabe. In fact, he had told you just how much he loved watching you choke and whimper and struggle to fit all of him in your mouth. He was always so proud of you every time you managed to swallow him deeper, cheeks hollowing around his length and throat fluttering against the tip.

You continued your ministrations, bobbing your head up and down, trying to relax as much as possible. This was all turning you on so much, being cuffed and ordered to serve Gabe, that you couldn’t help but press your legs together, hoping to ease some of the friction.

“Trying to get yourself off, kitten? Why don’t you finish helping me, and then I’ll help you. Does that sound good, baby? Can you do that for me?”

His praise spurred you on to move faster, running your tongue up and down his length, looking up at him, silently begging for more. You could taste the saltiness of his precum as he got closer and closer to the edge.

He shut his eyes and came with a groan, holding your head in place to ensure you swallowed every last drop. Not that he needed to do that. If he asked, you would have licked it up right off the floor, if that’s what he wanted.

“That’s my good fucking baby,” he sighed, pulling his cock out and admiring his work. “Open wide for me, kitten.”

You did as he asked, sticking your tongue out. He let out a small noise of appreciation before pulling you up back onto the bed, making you straddle his lap.

“Now I think it’s time for reward, baby, since you did so well for me.” He slid a hand down your stomach, teasing the edge of your underwear, making you want it hard and fast and now.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out a whine and slowly grinding your hips forward. 

He pulled away, staring at you with his trademark smile.

“Since you want to be ruined so bad,” he whispered, fingers finally finding your sex and making you cry out. “Maybe the next time I tie you up, I'll put a fun little toy between your thighs and really see just how patient you can be, baby.”

You wake up when the sunlight starts streaming in through the bars of your cell. It’s cold in here, and drafty, and you can’t remember why you’re even in here but the sound of a heavy door being opened quickly clues you in.

You’re the latest prisoner of the Duchess. 

Your memory is fuzzy, and your head feels like someone kicked it in. All you can remember is refusing to bow, spitting at her feet instead of kissing them, and her commanding a servant to take you away before striking you across the face with her scepter. That would explain the ache. Your hand brushes the tender skin of a bruise on your forehead. You close your eyes at the sensation, desperately trying to block it out.

“When I approach, I expect you to look at me.”

You keep your eyes screwed shut.

A hand reaches through the bars and grabs your chin, wrenching your head upwards. Sharp nails press into your throat, and you know the next thing she’ll do is tear it open.

So, you do what she wants. You open your eyes, looking up at the woman who holds your life in the palm of her gilded hand.

“Now that’s a good subject,” she coos, with just a hint of a sneer towards the end. “Was that so hard?”

She drops her hand, motioning for one the guards to unlock your cell. She can’t be letting you go already, no, there must be more to this visit. She then orders the guards to leave, and as they lock the door to the dungeon behind them, you feel your fate seal shut alongside it.

She watches you for a moment, hazel eyes daring you to do run, yell, do anything but lie there, crumpled on the cold stone floor.

“I asked you a question. Was that so hard?” The Duchess asks, punctuating each word with a click of her heels as she moves to stand above you, in an imitation of what landed you in here in the first place.

You lean back and stare up at her, channelling all of your defiance into one look. 

“I will never kneel to a tyrant,” you spit, making sure it gets all over her satin shoes again.

You don’t have time to brace for her payback as she kicks you in the chest, knocking the air out of your lungs. You fall back against the ground, pain shooting through your skull and intensifying the already-present ache. The toe rests on your forehead; the heel so close to your eye, she could gouge it out with another step.

“Of course you aren’t giving up so easily. You’ll become one of my most loyal subjects yet, you simply first need to show how sorry you are,” she muses, crouching down and moving her feet so they rest on either side of your head. She pushes her skirt up, smooth silk at the apex of her thighs. 

You lean your head out the window, breathing in the air around you. It smells like night, soft and cool, the antithesis of the man sitting in the driver’s seat. 

Rex, with his lip curled up in a permanent scowl, has one hand loosely gripping the steering wheel and the other not-so-loosely gripping your upper thigh. His fingers are warm and calloused, nails too blunt to put imprints on your skin but trying their best to remind you that they could, if he really wanted them to. 

And you know he does.

You’re heading back to his house, coming off of a drive-in movie that anyone looking in would call a date, but Rex would vehemently deny while also smashing their face into a brick wall. He would also never admit he picked the movie, a cheesy summer slasher stuffed full of sex and violence, over and over, interplayed together in every scene.

Whatever you had watched, it was enough to get Rex going, enough to get him to miss the turn and instead pull into a near-empty parking lot, hand with its ever-tightening grip still on your leg. 

He shuts the car off and turns to you, face flushed and eyes alight.

“C’mere,” he says, grabbing you by the collar and smashing his mouth into yours, his teeth immediately finding their purchase on your lower lip. He bites down, drawing blood, licking it up as fast as it pools out. You whimper, hands scrambling on his jacket, but that only makes him clamp down harder, tearing into you more and more.

“You must’ve really liked the movie, huh?” you tease when he finally pulls away for air. 

“You don’t even know what you do to me, stupid fucking film or not,” he groans, palming the front of his jeans. He pulls on the back on your neck, dragging you over the center console and grinding your face into the growing hardness. He makes you pull the zipper down with your teeth; the metal uncomfortably scraping against them as you do so. 

You move forward to pull his underwear down in the same fashion, but he pulls you back before you can. Rex looks at you, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, blood that isn’t his staining his mouth. knuckles waiting for a reason to hit you. You can tell he wants to make you look like one of the victims in the slasher you just watched, really make this date night want he wants, but the car is constraining his movements, and his normal plan of finding something to get pissed about as justification won’t work.

So instead, he pushes you down to the floor in front of him. Your head hits the dashboard when he does this, your knees scratching against the rough carpet under the driver’s seat.

Now, he pulls his cock out, already stiff and leaking. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, as you close your lips around the tip and suck.

You don’t get a moment to work before he’s grabbing the back of your head and sheathing himself inside to to hilt, your nose bumping against his stomach, trying not to gag.

He holds you there for a bit, watching you struggle to breathe and keep calm as his salty pre-cum starts to trickles down your throat.

“You’re so good,” he exhales. You’d say he’s looking at you with tenderness, but Rex is tender in the same way Levine is bubbly and Jay is shy.

As he thrusts into your mouth, he moves his boot to your crotch, toe finding your sex and grinding down into it. You let out a whine, sending vibrations through his cock and only making him go faster. You start moving your hips in hurried thrusts, trying desperately to match his rhythm, the pressure of the shoe hurting just as much as it helps.

“You’re gonna come on my foot the minute I finish, ok? Gonna fuck yourself until it stings, and then I’m gonna make you swallow every last drop, and then I’m gonna bend you over the hood of this car and show everyone just how much you love me and-”

His rambling threat gets cut off by his climax; his eyes squeezing shut as he holds your head in place to ensure you can’t spit out any of his cum. This spurs you on to hump into his shoe quicker, feeling your release build until it crashes over you, and you slump forward into his lap.

You look up at him, and you can’t help but smile, blood and cum mixing on your lips as you lick them up.

“What’re you grinning at? Get up; we’re going home. Don’t want anyone else to see you, anyways,” he says, tucking himself back into his pants and keeping a hand on you as you get up.

Rex moves that hand back to your thigh, grips it even harder than before, and starts the car up. You know he’s gonna leave a bruise there the minute you get back home. You know part of him yearns to love you in the daylight, where the marks he leaves are more visible. You know he wants to do these date nights more often, with just you, Jay and Levine as far away from him as possible. 

But, you both know that’ll never happen, not now, with the four of you tangled up in each other like spiders caught up in their own web. 

You never thought of the boys as yours. You didn’t own them, couldn’t even pretend to be in charge in any way. No, they were more like ghosts, vengeful wraiths you wouldn’t leave you alone until you gave into what they wanted.

If Levine was a phantom waiting at the foot of your bed, and Rex was a demon stalking in the shadows of every alleyway and abandoned warehouse, then Jay was the spirit you saw behind you in the mirror, his grin wide and sharp. He always looked like a predator who already had his prey down in his sights, and all he needed to deliver was the killing blow, a bite to the neck, a crack of the spine.

You knew this about him; every time you and him hung out you could never shake the thought that he was in control of whatever you two were doing. You didn’t mind it too much which is why you were at the mall with him right now, in the back of some raunchy teen store, rock music blaring on the overhead speakers, every product smelling like stale beer and plastic. 

Jay turns to you, still rifling through a pile of t-shirts.

“Hey, what color should I get?” he asked, holding up two near-identical plain shirts, one blue, the other green.

“I don’t know. What color do you want?”

He sighs.

“I don’t care about the color, really. Just pick the one you like more, ok?”

You could tell he was up to something; his eyes still had that crafty glint in them that always put you on edge.

You point to the green one. He was always wearing that big, army green coat, so at least it’ll match.

“Hey, I’m gonna go pay. Wanna wait outside for me?”

He asks this, like you really have a choice other than doing what he says. 

You wait outside for maybe three, five minutes, until he comes out with a bag hanging off his fingers.

The glint in his eyes grows brighter.

“Picked out something cool for you. Let’s find a bathroom.”

He grabs your arm with his free hand, slipping his down so your fingers interlock with his. He’s holding you a little too tight for it to be sweet, though. 

He finds a single-occupancy bathroom, pushes you inside it and deftly locks the door. Still holding the bag, he presses you against the sink, cold ceramic and steel sending a chill throughout your body.

He grins, wide and menacing, pinning you to the spot even more.

“You know, I love these kinds of stores because they really have everything you could ever want. Clothes, jewelry, even stuff like this,” he says, pulling something dark green and thick out of the bag. It’s a dildo, stiff and rubbery and heavy.

Before you even have time to process what he’s gonna do with it, he’s forcing his tongue inside your mouth, licking and nipping at your lips, sharp teeth threatening to draw blood. Still pushing you against the sink, he moves to bite down on your shoulder, breaking skin and lapping at what comes out of the wound. You gasp in pain, yet you can’t stop yourself from grinding your hips up.

He pulls away from you, a little blood at the corner of his mouth which he swiftly licks up, eyes narrowing at you, somehow both cloudy with lust and clear with purpose. 

“I wanted to try something new, and I figured you were just the kind of slut I could get to do it, so, come on, turn around and be good for me, ok?” he muses, already clawing at your pants as you face yourself in the mirror, lips swollen and shiny with spit and blood.

He runs a finger down your crotch, rubbing at the spot you already know is going to be filled soon. 

Soon comes quicker than you expected, as he shoves the toy inside of you to the hilt, making you gasp in shock as you steady yourself on the edge of the sink. 

He pulls in out slowly, your walls catching on every ridge of the rubber, and then pushes it back in, drawing the same whimpers from you that you let out before.

“I knew you were gonna like this, yeah? Tell me how much you like it, you little bitch,” he commands, fingers finding the back of your neck and forcing you to face your reflection again. He stares at you in the glass, looking exactly like the vicious animal you’ve met before. 

“I, I like it, Jay,” you choke out, eyes burning with from the pressure on your neck and core. 

His eyes narrow.

“I think you like it a little more than that, slut?” he growls, returning to the mark he left earlier and biting down, hard, again, as he continues to push the dildo slowly inside and out of you.

“I love it, Jay! Please, I need more! I need you!” you cry now, too dazed to worry if there were people outside, waiting for the bathroom. 

He picks up the pace, and you can feel yourself reaching the edge. 

“Who do you need?” he demands, pulling dildo out of you and replacing it with his cock, which is just as thick and heavy, if not more, than the one just inside. He thrusts inside you, skin slapping against skin as he forced you to look at your wrecked face in the mirror.

“Dzenan! I need you, please, please Dzenan, I-” you whine, before your climax overtakes you and you can’t help yourself from slumping forward onto the sink. You catch a look at your fucked-out reflection.

Of course, you see Jay’s face, too, smiling down as he chases his own release, finally finishing inside you with a growl.

He pulls out, cleans you and the toy both up with a paper towel, and hauls your body up.

He smirks, proud of what he’s done. Proud he was able to clamp his jaws down on his prey and have total control over them. 

“C’mon, we have more shopping to do. Can’t get tired out yet, yeah?” he says, grabbing you and opening the door.