“You know what you are now, don’tcha?” his smirk was wide and toothy, twisting his ragged features into a chilling sight to behold. the gold hoops in his lower lips glint as he speaks, catching what little bit of light still held from the flickering, broken bulb that hung from the ceiling. you were grateful that your surroundings were mostly concealed in darkness, but you could smell the carnage. all the blood and gun smoke. the stench of the death of your friends and coworkers that lingered in the hallways. you were humiliated enough when you couldn’t even fight back, but the fact that Jan Valentine hadn’t even bothered to kill you yet, and instead had played with you, was even worse. treating you like a child’s doll, he left his marks on you, and pretzeled you into whatever position he wanted to torture you in next, and you could do nothing to stop it. unlike your stronger and more courageous comrades, who’d fought to their demise, you were left for the vampires to do with as they pleased. you sniffle, but the tears had mostly dried on your face, and look up at him with big, scared eyes. you’d already learnt better than to beg him for mercy, if your busted lip was an indication. Jan grinned wider, cocked his head to the side, and snickered. “You’re my little fuckslut now.” his razor’s edge fangs were stained red. with whose blood? you didn’t want to know. “A piece of meat, for me to carve up however the fuck I want to.”

you flinch at that, and push your trembling toes against his cock more fervently, allowing the entire sole of your soft foot to massage the rigid veins. he seems harder now that he’s describing cutting you.

“Thinking about making you bleed some more is making me hard, fuck.” Jan hisses, malevolently, as he reaches for you. one, rough grip takes hold of the hair at your scalp, and you cry out, closing your eyes tightly as he jerks you closer. “I think that’s what I’ll do. Make you a real prime cut of fuckmeat. Take away any part of you that wants to tell me no, or fight back, and leave only the places I can stick my dick untouched. What do you say? Want me to cut you?”

you shake your head, whimpering a nearly incoherent babble of no’s and god no’s.

“Then you better make every limb that that you want to keep useful, because only the parts of you that I can fuck interest me.” his threat spurs you, and you whimper, rubbing your soles against his cock with more urgency. you had a feeling he wasn’t bluffing, and that the sick bastard would actually cut your feet off if you didn’t make them useful to him. and that meant servicing him. “Keep going,” Jan grinned like the devil, jutting his hips forward as the toe of his heavy boot taps against the floor. “Wanna see my dick between your feet. Make it feel as good as a pussy, and I’ll letcha keep ‘em once I’ve shot my load on ‘em.”

you physically cringe and recoil at his words— they were so vulgar. but, you do as instructed and clamp your feet together, creating a tight gap for his cock to slide into, and you pump them up and down, your motions awkward and erratic, lacking skill. after all, you’ve never had to do this for anyone before. but you got the feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you were forced to do this for him.

Maybe you were still asleep, and this was just a strange dream, a terrifying dream. You pulled the blanket up over your head and prayed to wake up, but the denial turned to terror when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

You jumped out of bed, but it was too late to go out your bedroom door— you could hear them walking and whispering outside. Your bathroom had a small window, but even if you managed to fit through it you’d be on the second story with no way to ropel down. Maybe in your mind you could be some daring adventurer with the perfect plan to escape, or with the skills to defend yourself with something random you could grab, but you knew better than to really think you could do anything but hide.

As the footsteps and voices got louder, your eyes frantically searched the room and finally landed on the large upright dresser— maybe it was a little obvious, but it had a handy little feature that made it lock from the inside. It had come in handy for a decade of hide-and-seek, and now it would hopefully serve you one last time.

With not a second to spare, you ran over and grabbed the golden handles, swinging the doors open but being careful to shut them quietly after you’d stepped inside and made room for yourself among the coats and dresses. You searched for the lock in the pitch darkness, only able to find it because it was right above the keyhole that glowed from the dim light outside. Just as you turned the knob and heard the metal lock slide inside the wooden door, you heard your bedroom door open.

Someone walked around your room briefly, you even heard them pick something up and set it down— probably your bedside lamp, based on where it was coming from, but you obviously couldn’t be sure and frankly didn’t care that much. Footsteps approached the dresser and you saw the keyhole light up as a flashlight passed over it.

“Let’s take all the clothes and put them in the fireplace,” a voice in the room announced. “We won’t actually light the fireplace, but it sends a message.”

You covered your mouth with your hand to try to keep quiet when the doors shook briefly from an attempt to open them.

“Fuck, it’s locked.”

“Here, you go on to the next room, I’ll pick it,” a second voice decided, and you heard more footsteps as someone else approached the armoire. “Look how fancy the dresser is, they’ve probably got furs in here too— god knows people living in a house like this can’t miss an opportunity to destroy the environment.”

You heard something jiggle inside the keyhole, a clicking noise that went on for just a few moments before you heard the metal slide inside the wood again and the doors slowly opened.

A man, dressed in black and holding a flashlight in his gloved hands, stared at you from behind a mask that left only his brown eyes visible. You both stood still, staring at each other, until he did exactly the last thing you expected: he lifted the mask up to his forehead and showed you his face.

He was a lot younger than you would’ve expected, though he had the scruffy beard of a guy trying to look older; his teeth were slightly crooked when he smiled at you, and when he raised a brow while he gave you a quick look-over, you noticed the way they almost connected in the middle.

Under his gaze, you suddenly felt very aware of how little your lacy, baby pink nightgown protected you from the chilling night air.

"Well, what's this?" he asked coyly as he watched you shiver. "Guess these capitalist pigs left one of their little piglets behind." He put on a cooing sort of voice as he addressed you directly: "Did mummy and daddy leave you all alone while they went on holiday?"

He stepped closer even as you tried to shrink away, examining you carefully.

“Get out of there, silly, what are you hiding for? I’m not gonna hurt you,” he assured, not that you found it especially comforting. When you didn’t step out of your own accord, he grabbed your arm and roughly yanked you forward; he slammed the dresser doors behind you, and you whimpered in fear as he pinned you down against them by each arm. "Shh, hey, don't worry— I'm here to take care of you, you can call me daddy instead until your heartless banker father gets back. Go ahead, tell me what's wrong."

"I—"

"Ah ah," he tutted with a mix of bemusement and disappointment, "I already told you how to address me."

You shuddered but finally responded, "Daddy, I'm scared."

He gave you a demeaning little pout, but you continued.

"Some men broke in and I'm alone and… and I don't know if they want to hurt me."

"No, baby, they don't want to hurt you," he promised with a gentle smile, but it turned horrifically sinister as he leaned in to add with a whisper: "but we will if we have to."

You swallowed thickly, your gut twisting when you felt him breathe out against your neck.

"So you're gonna be a good girl, right?"

You nodded quickly, turning away when he leaned in closer, looking down at you with darkened eyes and running the fingers of his black gloves over the neckline of your pyjamas.

“You were just waiting for me, huh? All tucked in in your cute little nightgown, dressed up like a doll,” he grinned. “I bet you want daddy to play with you, hm?”

He laughed cruelly when you shook your head, fighting harder to get away again as he squeezed your arms tight enough to leave marks where his fingers had been.

“Wanna play, little dolly?” he continued, pressing his body into yours and roughly shoving his leg between your thighs. “I know you do… c'mon and give me a kiss," he requested.

“N-no,” you stammered, but he grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand and forced you to look ahead, slamming his lips onto yours and ignoring your muffled protests. When he pinched your side you gasped instinctively, and he shoved his tongue inside your mouth roughly— but that only lasted for a moment, before you found renewed strength and managed to shove him back. It wasn’t far enough to free yourself, but enough to get a break from the oppressive kiss.

“Aw, don’t be mean,” he pouted, wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. “You said you’d be good for me, remember?”

“Just stop, please,” you whined, gasping before you could stop yourself when he rubbed his thigh up against you— hitting right on your clit which throbbed in spite of everything. Somehow the fear made you more sensitive, or at least something had because you’d never felt quite like this before.

“See? You’re all worked up,” he explained, “I’m gonna help you.”

This time when he leaned in he started to kiss and suck at your neck instead, starting right beneath your ear and moving down slowly until his tongue laved over the crook where your shoulder began. As much as you hated it, it made arousal pulse between your legs where his thigh continued to push hard on you.

When he moved even closer, you could feel his erection against your hip; you didn’t even realise that you’d let out a gasp until you felt him smile against your neck. “Oh, babydoll… you want daddy’s cock inside you, I can tell.”

“N-no, I don’t— just stop,” you begged.

“If only it were so easy, to just ask someone to stop,” he mused. “You know how many times we asked people like your father to stop before they fucked us? You know how far that gets us? You don’t just get to ask nicely, you have to fight for it…”

He chuckled as you writhed in his embrace.

“But you’re too weak to fight, poor thing.”

"Please, I'm not a part of whatever you’re talking about,” you tried to explain, “I don't know much about what Papa does at work—"

"That's your problem, baby, you're blissfully ignorant! Not all of us have that luxury. But the good news is, I'm here to educate you." He pushed up even closer to you, speaking lowly right into your ear with rage starting to bubble up in his voice. "Your father is a piece of scum who feeds on the working class and then robs them blind. You live like this, unquestioningly, and the rest of Germany suffers. Stuck-up bitch like you wouldn't even notice me if you saw me on the street, would you? Wouldn't even give me the time of day, but now you're at my mercy. That’s what you people need to learn: that you’re not gonna be on top forever.”

Suddenly you felt his hand cup your sex through your nightgown, and you choked on your gasp. “No—!” you started to shout, but his right hand covered your mouth as the left hastily pulled your pyjamas up and reached under them.

“Stop fucking squirming,” he grunted as he reached between your kicking legs and slid quickly up your thigh. “Mm, bet you’re hiding a pretty little cunt under this nightgown— hold still, baby, you’re gonna like this.”

Finally maneuvring his way into your panties, he abruptly shoved two gloved fingers inside of you, watching closely as you scrunched your face up tight in discomfort. He thrusted and twisted them around for a bit, carelessly stretching you open as you tried desperately to squirm away; it stung a bit, and the leather of the gloves was cool and awkwardly firm against your walls. For some reason, when he dropped his free hand from your face, you didn’t try to scream again— maybe because you knew no one who cared could hear you— and you just panted heavily instead.

As quickly as he’d pushed them in he pulled them out, bringing the glove up to his mouth to take it off with his teeth with a little growl before rubbing his bare hand over your pussy again. You whimpered when he slid his fingers inside you again, this time feeling the texture of his skin as he curled the pads of his fingers right against your spot. “Yeah?” he mumbled his taunt around the leather between his teeth before spitting the glove out onto the floor. “Fuck, so warm… you’re so wet already, dolly, has nobody been giving this pussy any attention?”

He stopped moving his fingers inside you to pull out and give your clit a few slaps, licking his lips when you cried out from the sharp sensation.

“Huh?” he reminded you to answer when you never gave a response.

“N-no,” you shook your head, finally, and he smiled like he was proud of himself.

“Yeah? You’re not a virgin, are you?”

You only looked down at the floor, blinking a few times as you focused on the teal carpet, and heard him laugh darkly.

“Oh, dolly, I might break you,” he warned roughly as he pushed your gown up to your waist, ignoring your sobbed pleas for him to stop. “We don’t usually take anything from the people we visit, but if I take your virginity maybe your people will finally get the message.”

“Please— you don’t have to do that,” you stammered, rushing through whatever you could think of to make him change his mind, “I won’t tell anyone you were here. You can have whatever you want, if I call them they can send you money—”

“You aren’t even fucking listening to me, we don’t want your expensive bullshit and we don’t want your dirty fucking money!” he corrected sternly, clutching your sleeves tighter and shaking you slightly with the intensity of his movements. “We just want you to be afraid, because the revolution is coming.”

But you were afraid of something much more imminent than a revolution.

“Get on the fucking bed,” he demanded, though you couldn’t do much else considering he was already roughly tossing you onto it, climbing on top of you and pinning you down when you started to crawl back instinctively. With his legs resting on yours and keeping you (somewhat) still, he only needed one hand to grab your shoulders while the other rushed to open his jeans.

Your eyes got a little wide when you saw his cock— before that, it was almost like some part of you didn’t really think he’d go through with his, but now you could see clearly that he was hard and ready… and big enough to make you question how that thing was even supposed to fit inside you.

He tore through your panties like they were paper; he lifted and spread your legs as he sat between them and, much to your humiliation, just stared down at your pussy for a moment. You’d never felt so exposed and it made you feel worse than ever. “Knew you’d have a pretty cunt,” he announced smugly, “can’t wait to see it all stretched out and covered in my come— I’m gonna ruin you, babydoll.”

You weakly struggled as he held your hips down with one hand and haphazardly stroked his cock a few times with the other, rubbing himself over your opening before pulling his hips back to spit right onto your clit. After spreading the improvised lubrication around with his head for a moment, he pushed down on it with his thumb to line up with your hole and, without any further warning, slid inside in one motion.

You bit down on your lip hard, and even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the sting; it felt like he was ripping you open, not to mention going so deep that you could feel him in your stomach.

He groaned loudly, head falling back for a moment as he started to thrust into you. “Fuck, I can tell you’re a virgin— it must be hurting you, huh?”

But the question was a bit redundant, since tears had already begun to stream down your temples and your fingers were clutching tightly onto the sheets beneath you; if they were any less expensive, they probably would’ve ripped.

“Maybe a little pain will be good for you,” he decided with a smirk, “I think a spoiled brat like you has been spared the rod a few too many times.”

It was definitely more than a ‘little’ pain, and it only seemed to sting more each time he pulled back and pushed in again— he wasn’t going very fast, yet, so that was one thing you could almost be thankful for. That said, he wasn’t very gentle either.

He hastily reached up under your nightgown to grope your breasts, quickly moving from one to the other as he squeezed them just a bit too hard. “You like how daddy plays with your tits, don’t you?” he grunted. “Say, ‘yes daddy.’”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you mumbled awkwardly; maybe being embarrassed to say that was superfluous considering everything else happening right now, but your face got warmer regardless.

A whimper almost caught in your throat when he pinched your hardened nipples, but it broke through when he seemingly-randomly gave a spank to your inner thigh.

He looked down at where your bodies were joined, where he was stretching you out with steady pumps of his cock that filled you to the brim, before reaching up to quickly pull his black sweater off over his head— a t-shirt underneath came off with it as his chest was exposed. He wasn’t unreasonably pale but he clearly wasn’t the type to get a ton of sun, and he had a thin scattering of dirty-blonde hair over some of it. It was sort of embarrassing, now, seeing how thin he was and yet he was still so much stronger than you.

"You're getting so wet, babydoll, look— you're making a mess on these expensive sheets," he grinned. And he wasn't lying; the sting of the stretch had slowly faded, replaced with a friction you actually couldn't help but enjoy. Each time he moved, he seemed to slide right over a spot that made you tighten up your legs so they wouldn't shake.

But, apparently, there was still plenty left that he could do to hurt you.

You cried out, so louder it echoed across the room, when he suddenly thrust into you hard and deep, hitting the very end of you as your body involuntarily jolted— he clapped his hand down over your mouth instantly, muffling your cries to near-silence as he set a punishingly fast pace out of nowhere. You couldn’t turn your head when you heard your bedroom door open, but you could glance to the side and see another burglar appear in the doorway, staring forward at the scene in front of him.

A new sense of shame burned inside you for being seen in such a way; oddly, it came with guilt, too, as if you were doing something wrong yourself, when really it was just something wrong being done to you. The man on top of you didn’t seem to feel much of either, though: he didn’t even slow down.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?" the other man asked his partner, face still hidden but his voice a mixture of bewildered and disgusted. "This isn't how we roll."

"Fuck off, I'm almost done," your attacker scoffed. You tried to use the distraction to fight him again— you swung your arms to try to scratch his face or push him away, but without even hesitating he simply stopped covering your mouth to pin your wrists at either side of your head.

"Is this really what you think the revolution is about?" the man in the door sneered. "Or does that even matter to you when you think you might get some ass? Jesus, I always knew you were a creep but this is…" he trailed off.

"Maybe you should take a turn with her, might fix your attitude," the man on top of you suggested. "She's real tight— trust me, you'll feel better."

"I promise that raping that girl isn't gonna make me feel better, Jan," he frowned.

"Fine, then just go so I can finish and I'll meet you guys in the yard," Jan— apparently that was his name— instructed.

"Don't go," you begged the man in the door, seeing the concern on his face— you could tell he wanted to stop Jan, maybe if you asked him to, he would.

"Shut up, bitch," Jan growled, correcting you with a slap to the face.

The man in the doorway just shook his head and sighed, stepping back into the hall and shutting the door behind him. You cried harder, more sure than ever that Jan was right when he said you were at his mercy; and he didn’t seem to have much.

He fucked you rough and fast, recklessly chasing his own pleasure with no regard for yours. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that you didn’t feel any pleasure, though… it was building, in fact, sort of like when you touched yourself but so much stronger, and deeper, and threatening to overflow at any moment. “Oh fuck, you’re close,” he noticed with a tilted grin, “you love it so fucking much, huh? Wanna cream on daddy’s cock?”

You shook your head but he slapped you again, spinning your face to the side as he held both your wrists above your head in one hand and gripped your jaw with the other.

“Stop lying,” he growled, “I can feel it, I can feel your cunt getting tighter… you’re gonna come so fucking hard for me, aren’t you, babydoll? God, what a nasty fucking whore you are…”

He held your face to look straight ahead, up at where he hovered above you and bared his teeth in a snarl, before forcing your mouth open and spitting into it. You grimaced and tried even harder to squirm away but he quickly clamped his hand down over your nose and mouth so you couldn’t try to spit it back out again.

“C’mon, swallow it,” he instructed roughly, voice a bit strained from the force it took to hold you down. You could hardly breathe with his hand this way, and when you tilted your head back to try to get away from it, you accidentally swallowed his spit with a disgusted, muffled grunt. “There you go, good girl,” he purred as he watched your throat bob a bit involuntarily, “that’s it, I know you wanna come— say it! Say ‘daddy I wanna come.’”

He let go of your mouth and slapped you again before you even had a chance to hesitate. “D-daddy,” you whined, “I… I—”

“It’s not that fucking hard,” he hissed, “just say it, you dumb fucking slut!”

One more slap was apparently all you needed to just choke it out: “I wanna come, daddy!” you cried, back starting to arch as the pressure of holding back your release became too much to bear.

“Then fucking come,” he demanded, “come for me, baby, right fucking now.”

You tried to hold out just a moment longer, just to spite him, just so you wouldn’t obey him so easily… but it only took one rough thrust right into the end of you to make it all spill over. You came with a sob, shaking and jerking beneath him for a moment before a warmth spread through you; it started right where he filled you and spread everywhere until your mind was all foggy and your fingers started to go numb— or maybe that was just because of him pinning you down at the wrists.

Much to your disgust, you could hear how wet you had become with every stroke inside you, a sickening squelching noise that made him laugh as your face tingled with numbness and burned with shame all at once. “Oh fuck, that’s it,” he praised, “naughty little dolly, making a mess on daddy’s cock with that dirty fucking cunt of yours… I’m gonna cover it in my come, are you ready, baby? Ask daddy to come on your pussy, don’t make me hit you again.”

“Daddy, please,” you mumbled quietly, “come on my pussy…”

“I can’t hear you, babydoll, you need to speak up,” he mocked.

And you were just so exhausted and overwhelmed and his thrusts inside your sensitive walls were starting to get painful again— that was why you really meant it when you sobbed through your begging: “Please, daddy, come on my pussy!”

With one more panted moan he pulled out and only had to give his cock one blur of a stroke before white, warm come began to paint over your sore opening, your swollen clit, your bruised inner thighs. “Fuuucckkk…” he groaned under his breath as he watched himself coat you, and you caught a tinge of pink from your blood on his cock and hand as he slowed down to a stop. "Sheiße," he sighed, letting go of your wrists to sit up and close his eyes for a moment before looking down again at where you were limp and splayed out on your bed beneath him. “See? I’m getting reckless, I really shouldn’t be leaving evidence…”

Even without that, you knew his name and face, but apparently he was focusing on the copious amounts of DNA he’d just left on you.

“I suppose it won’t be a problem, because you’re not going to tell anyone,” he posited, leaning down slightly to hover over you as you swallowed around the rock that had suddenly formed in your throat. “You know how I know you won’t?”

You weakly shook your head, already terrified to imagine what the answer to that question was going to be. Of course, your first assumption was that he was going to kill you, or threaten to do so if you involved the police. He knew where you lived, he could threaten your family, too: the thought made your skin crawl as he leaned down further to whisper right against your ear as you instinctively turned your face away from him.

“Because if you tell someone that I raped you,” he finally continued, “then you’ll also have to tell them that you liked it.”

Speaking right against your ear, it took him no effort at all to stick his tongue out and lick you right on it, making you squeal with fear and disgust.

Irritation flares up in me as I hear that same lecherous voice calling out to me from the other end of the bar, trying almost desperately to appeal to me. I don't even have to look round to know the man is leering at me from over the top of his beer, which he has graciously spilled all over the counter in his want to get me over to him. My co-worker gives me a subtle, sympathetic look, before passing me a cloth to mop up the mess. 

Plastering on a false, pleasant smile, I turn and approach the greasy man trying to get my attention. As he sees this, he grins and sits forwards, a triumphant look on his face as he twists his lips into a sleazy smirk, drink held loosely in one hand, the glass now half-empty where it had been totally full just five minutes before. 

"Sorry, sweetheart. Had a little accident." He points at the mess in front of him, head cocked to the side suggestively, "Mind helping me out?"

Barely able to contain the sigh of disgust that threatens to leave me, I feel my eyes flick briefly over to the leather-clad man a few chairs down, almost as if seeking refuge with the gruff biker I've come to know as Jan. Chestnut hair falls into a pale face, expression apparently showing no interest, though I can see piercing blue-grey eyes watching the interaction. The gaze sends a shiver down my spine, having grown accustomed to - and admittedly attached to - the feeling of being under his externally indifferent scrutiny. Once more, he's nursing a beer, smoke curling around him from a cigarette held between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, looking for all the world like a jaded lover, left to mourn the loss of an unfaithful ex. Unfortunately, it looks like I'll get no help from him.

"Of course, sir. If you wouldn't mind just sitting back a little, I'll be able to just clean that up." I say sweetly, holding the cloth up for the greasy man with the spillage to see.

"Aw, I'm sure you can go around me." He smirks, leaning back just a fraction.

In my head, I make a comment I would probably regret making in person, annoyed by him yet unwilling to show it. Deciding just to get the job done, I bend over the counter and start to clean up, wiping up the puddle of beer he's managed to leave, doing my best not to present my cleavage to him too much in my current state. 

I stiffen as I feel his hand suddenly brush against my arm, fingers ghosting over my bare skin. Uneasy, I pull back, only for him to grip my wrist and keep me from going anywhere.

"Aw, don't be like that. Let me enjoy myself." He gives me a vile look, "I can make it worth both our while."

Disgusted, I go to pull away.

"I'm going to have to ask you to let me go, sir." I tell him firmly, frowning at him as he smirks teasingly at me. 

"Come on, I know you want to." He rubs his thumb into my skin, only to stop when I pull back very suddenly.

"No, and if you keep going I'll have to ask you to leave." I wrench my arm away from him, angry.

Laughing cruelly, the man leans forwards and grabs hold of my forearm again, yanking me into the bar. Before I can stop him, he's lifted a hand to take my chin in his hand, pulling me down to his level. Disgusted, I try to move away again, eyes widening a fraction as his fingers only dig in, smirk now malicious more than anything else. He goes to speak, his rank breath washing over my face as he leans in, only to be interrupted by a sudden jerk backwards. Looking up, I feel surprise fill me as I see Jan standing behind the man, expression silently furious, his hand retracting from where it was holding the man's collar.

"Did you not hear them the first time, asshole? Leave them alone." He says sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The guy looks at Jan disdainfully, sneering at him.

"And what are you gonna do, sunshine? Leave us alone."

Jan rolls his eyes, his hand returning to the man's shirt again, which he takes forcefully in hand. With no further words, he yanks down on the fabric, pulling the lech with it, causing the man to fall from stool and onto his ass. Instantly, the guy cries out in anger, scrambling to his feet and rounding on Jan with a glare. 

"What the fuck do you want, you little shit?" He snarls, spit  flying from his lips as he gets even more flushed, looking up as Jan as he stands over him. 

"I want you to leave them alone. Like they've asked you to." The biker responds coldly, evening his stance almost instinctively, ready for the inevitable fight that's brewing. I watch with bated breath, knowing I should stop this before I get fired but aware that I will greatly struggle to do so. That, and the guy deserves what Jan looks like he'll deal out to him. 

The man spits on the floor beside him.

"Fuck off, asshole." He retorts, the alcohol in his system very clearly clouding his judgment now. 

Very clumsily, he lunges towards Jan, fists flying haphazardly at him. A crowd has gathered by now, watching as the biker easily side-steps him, moving fluidly. In a flash, he has the drunkard by the ear, dragging him roughly towards the door. Wide-eyed and shocked (very much impressed by his strength, too) I hasten around the bar and follow the crowd as they surge after the two, watching in awe as Jan throws the man to the pavement outside, sending him sprawling. Moving across from him, the biker turns a disgusted look on the drunk and watches him as he lurches to his feet. 

"Asshole! That fucking hurt!" The man screeches, rubbing at his red ear.

"It was supposed to." Jan rolls his eyes, easily dodging yet another haywire punch. 

This time, however, he steps in and lands his own punch on the man, hitting him hard in the chest. A pained grunt escapes the man, buckling over under the intense pain of the blow, only to furiously attack again, met swiftly with yet another punch, this one to the chin. Jan shakes off his fists as he watches the drunkard dab at his bloody lip, his breathing only very minutely heavier. 

Almost roaring in anger now, the drunkard runs at Jan, swinging wildly, being met with yet more punches before he suddenly pulls a knife, the blade flashing in the cool night air. Jan doesn't quite see it before a line appears in the fabric of his shirt, crimson appearing beneath the tear, his eyes darkening with irritation. Adjusting his stance, he moves on the drunkard, ducking past the knife with ease. In the blink of an eye, he has the man pinned to the floor, having quickly debilitated him with a sharp blow to the chin, followed by a kick to the back of the leg, kneeling on his back with the arms pulled painfully at right angles.

"Don't fucking come back, you dirty pig. If I see you again, I'll make sure you end up with more than a few bruises." Jan leans down, voice raised in fury now, "Do I make myself clear?!" 

Surprised by the sudden change in volume, I watch as the biker stands from the prone body, spitting on him in revulsion. He puts a hand to his abdomen, looking at the blood that comes away on his hand. Around me, the crowd murmurs in awe, watching as he adjusts himself, trying not to wince at the pain. Rushing forward, I give him a worried look.

"Are you alright? Come inside, let me help you…" I don't let him argue, ushering him past people gathered and into the bar, going straight to the staff toilet.

Quickly, I go to grab the first aid kit we have under the counter in case of problems like this, returning to him and locking the door behind me as I go in, suddenly aware of the tight quarters. Jan stands almost awkwardly, watching me carefully as I urge him to sit on the toilet seat. I just myself with the kit, until I realise exactly where his wound is.

"Could you...could you take your shirt off for me, please?" I murmur, gesturing to his injury.

"You don't have to do this, (Y/n). I can patch myself up if you leave the kit here." Jan tells me, voice somewhat roughened now. A shiver goes down my spine at the sound of my name on his tongue, but I try to ignore it, shaking my head to encourage him.

"No, no, you got hurt because of me, this is the least I can do to thank you…" I tell him, glad when he sighs and starts to pull his coat off. Instantly, my eyes find his arms, widening at the sight of his defined muscles beneath pale skin, each flex making me wish I could see the rest of him even as he reaches up to pull his shirt off. My breath hitches at the sight, transfixed by the pallid, toned chest before me, mostly hairless, marked here and there by moles, his body made up almost entirely of angles softened only by his slight love of beer. 

I have to gather myself again, looking over at the scarlet stain fast growing on his lower stomach, just past the top of his V-line. Biting my lip, I kneel between his legs, starting to gently work on the cut. He hisses with each touch, his hands resting on his thighs either side of me, fists clenching every now and then as I clean away the blood, his steely eyes fixed on me. In this position, I can feel myself getting hot, blushing under his intense gaze as I finally finish up, unable to stop myself from reverently running my fingers over the muscles of his stomach. Under my fingers, I can feel him suck in a breath.

"Now your knuckles…" I say finally, voice shaky as I take one large hand in mine, marveling at how long and slender his fingers are.

Before I can do anything, however, Jan removes himself from my grip, gently sliding his palm against my cheek instead, cupping my face. Tipping me up to look at him, he runs his thumb over my cheekbone, eyes watching me closely. 

"Thank you for defending me, Jan." I manage to say after a long moment when he continues to look at me, a conflicted look on his face.

"You don't have to thank me." Is all he says before he's leaned down and fastened his lips on mine. 

Gasping in pleasant surprise, I melt into his soft touch as he kisses me, lips gently coaxing me out of my shell, the hand on my cheek pulling me up against him, the other coming to rest on my hip as he pulls me against him. Groaning into me, Jan wraps his arm around me, standing and pushing me back against the door behind me, the hand on my cheek moving to find the surface before my head hits it, pressing his body into me as flush as he can. Happily, I moan into him and lift my hands to his hair, pulling him closer, parting my lips as his tongue teases them, allowing him to slip inside and lick at the parts he can reach. His smell is strong in my nose, a heady mix of smoke, beer and motor oil, somewhat concealed by a good cologne, the softness of his hair against my fingers addicting as I run them through it. His facial hair rubs deliciously against my face, making me wonder what it would feel like against more sensitive skin.

Eventually, he pulls away, still cupping the back of my head with one large hand, the other keeping me pinned against him. His blue-grey eyes bore into me, lips parted as he catches his breath. Softly, he rests his forehead against mine, smiling hesitantly. 

"My god, I've wanted that so long. I don't suppose you'd want to do it again?" He mumbles, laughing as I let out a breathless laugh of my own.

“Sleep.”

Jan’s words hit you like a bucked of ice cubes and you stalled like a deer that met the blinding lights of a car.

It was dead in the night, probably three of four in the morning by the degree of darkness around you and you were chatting or scrolling onto your phone.

The evening before you and Jan went out to a talk at the university about human rights, he took some notes and chatted up with some people, he was a charmer when he talked politics, almost forgetting his naturally shy persona. Then later you were in desperate need for a pizza that got followed by a small concert by some indie band only Jan could know of.

A pretty full evening that came to the natural conclusion of mildly drunk kisses and feverish sex in the twisted covers of Jan’s bed.

All good in paradise, beside the fact that you couldn’t fathom the idea of sleep. Jan fell asleep afters some cuddles and talks, but you were restless, wide awake like it was 10 in the morning, ready to kick off the day.

You didn’t want to get out of the bed, it was too comfortable, Jan’s warm body too inviting and the sex scented covers intoxicating. Besides, your body was indeed tired, but your mind was on speed.

So it came natural to you to indulge into some internet surfing for an hour or two, maybe three.

Until Jan made clear that he was awake.

His soft chuckle filled the air “If you don’t move I won’t believe you’re sleeping”

You blushed as you turned around, the blue light of the screen caressing his features: his messy hair and sweet smile, his half closed lids and the little drool of saliva on his chin.

“I am sorry, I am just…”

“Awake?” He concluded and you chuckled nodding as he let out a breathy sigh using his body against yours giving a light bump with his forehead against yours.

“Stop thinking, it won’t help if you’re tired all day”

“I know, It is not like I choose to”

Jan smiled as he sighed softly, but he smiled, he was so sweet, he smelled like cigarette and you. He brushed his nose against yours being like a tired sleepy kitten. You looked at your phone, it was 5 am.

“Jan, you can sleep”

“Who are you chatting with?”

“Jan”

“Oh, so you’re reading some pornish stuff? Do I have to expect some new ideas?”

“Jan!” You gasped louder pushing on his shoulder only to hit a loud bump on the wall and then a hiss.

Peter telling you in his own way to shut the fuck up, hitting the wall and then regretting it.

Jan scraped the side of his nose with his finger “I know it is porn” he whispered only to earn another of your pushes on his arm.

He leaned on his side as he took your phone and turned it off before pushing it under the bed. Safe and away from you.

“Now” he murmured trying to keep his voice low when he turned on his own phone torch to pick his old cassette player, one of his favourite old school relics handing you the headphones while changing the cassette in it before putting on play.

“What is this?” Yo asked as a soft 80’s song started playing.

“I made you a good night playlist, I knew I’d need it one day” he said and you looked at him surprised and touched. How damn romantic could his revolutionary heart be?

But he didn’t finish, he leaned in picking a bottle of water that he always had nearby handing it to you. You took a sip before he could even tell you and took it back having one himself.

The music was still playing in your ears making everything he did look perfect like in some music video, the calm music making him appear even more soft as he turned off the little torch leaving your eyes into a buzzy need of informations, you wanted to see him.

You needed to tell him something, like he didn’t have to or that you’ll be fine and he has to sleep. But words just didn’t come to you, you were engulfed by the soft family aura he was giving to you.

You almost gasped in surprise as he held you by your waist and guided you to turn around reminding you of your both naked bodies, you were letting him do his magic by this point as he adjusted the pillow under your head and slowly settling himself into being the big spoon behind you.

He kissed on the back of your neck for a moment making sure the wires of the played didn’t bother you.

Another kiss on top of your shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you, warm hand resting over your chest.

“Sleep”

He whispered, barely audible over the second track that begun playing in your headphones, all the songs were gentle love songs, all about happy love, about hope and warmth.

You closed your eyes as you tried to relax, you noticed fo a moment he held his breathing and you got confused on what he was doing.

Then you realised it.

He was syncing his breathing with yours.

For a moment the thought of how you don’t deserve this man crossed your mind, his loving attentions, his patience mixed with his naturally fiery nature. He was both an inspiration and a treat for you, he kept your body and your mind awake and now he was also helping you to relax.

You begun wondering how many times he was awake when you aimlessly scrolled at night over your phone, how many times he noticed to even think and put the effort of creating a cassette playlist for you.

As your mind raced on the wild road of self doubt like a mad horse another kiss on your spine pulled you back to reality.

Then his shifting body as he moved away one of the headphones, his hot breath caressing the back of your neck as he let our the words.

“I love you”

Simple as that.

He put the headphone back to place after resting another kiss on your neck.

His soft breathing was indeed relaxing, a sense of warmth spreading through your chest, his warm hand right there keeping your heart safe in its place, his breathing in sync with yours.

You smiled with closed eyes as another track played your mind to a soothing sleep

“When I sleep with that picture of you framed beside my bed

oh, it's childish and it's silly

but I think it's you in my room

by the bed

and I know

I took strange pills

but I never meant to hurt you

oh truly I love you”