What If?// WDW BxB: Corbyn-Shots

Day 9|| To Be Loved- Jorbyn

*Rape
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Summary: A typical night for Corbyn and Jonah

Corbyn's POV

💜Jobear💜

You:
Jo, where are you
1:45 am

Jonah I'm worried, please answer
1:50 am

It's so late, Joan. Baby, where are you?
1:52 am

Jo, please
1:55 am

Just answer the phone
2:00 am

My blonde locks coiling around my fingers, gripping hard, stopping only when the ache of my scalp became too much. Burning a line in the floor as I paced. Ears straining, desperate to catch even the slightest ding of my phone.

Texting him was pointless, a part of me knew that. The same part bitterly reminding me of how long his quick visits were becoming. Worrying was pointless, I knew it was, but I couldn't help it.

He was still my Jobear and I still wanted to believe in him. Believe that he was stuck in traffic or he had gotten lost. Believing he would be here if he could. That he would be with me.

The door creaking open with the quiet rattle of keys. Jonah's sigh heavy, digits swimming through his crisp brown.

A grunt shaking his chest as I slammed into it. Arms encircling his neck, holding him tight. My lids shielding burning eyes," you're a fucking dick! I was so worried," my whimper helpless. Nuzzling into his warmth, ignoring the way his smell made my nose tingle.

" Sorry," his mumble half-hearted. Forearms pressing to my waist," I didn't mean to keep you waiting, gorgeous," lips brushing along my ear. Tracing the ridge of my pinna, barely bending the cartilage. Tugging me into his chest, fingertips ghosting over my ass.

" Joan, not now," my palms pressing gently to his biceps, still wanting him against me. Still wanting to feel his body, the friction of our skin, almost craving it.

Steel-blue gazing down at me, shadows dancing across metallic skies. Desire sparkling behind thick clouds. Shining through the inky black," why not, Baby boy? Why can't Daddy touch you?" Gleaming fangs dragging across my neck, nibbling carefully. Smirking as I shuddered.

" Because I don't wanna fuck, Joan. I wanna talk. Where have you been?" Nuzzling the side of my face into his, hoping he would stop. That he would just hold me, but Jonah was persistent. He always had been.

" We can talk. You love talking when I get rough. Don't you remember? Daddy, more. Daddy please," the purr rumbling deep within his throat, groping me. I squirmed against him, wiggling in his arms. My belly screwing tight, curling in on itself. He had never made me feel like this.

His lips met mine, slipping his hand between my legs. Running his erection along my inner thigh.

I didn't kiss back at first, standing rigid. Each touch burying little bugs into my skin, shaking as they crawled around. I tried to pull back. He only held me tighter.

He tasted of whiskey. Strong, searing whiskey. The flavor left my tongue burning, buds sizzling, throbbing. Jonah hated whiskey. So why the hell did he taste like this?