#Dude on the far left is my favorite
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A sneak peek at the pyxin template featuring a small paragraph about Breasts
#Needed some help with the body references and I'm glad I wasn't stubborn about it lol#Dude on the far left is my favorite#digital art#art#artists on tumblr#furry art#furry artist#furry community#furry fandom#gay artist#samhaven
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Been cleaning up and rearranging stuff a lot lately in preparation for moving, and I'm getting a bit emotional about my first TF figure/toy...
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I've had this Jazz for like, 10+ years, and I used to take this guy everywhere. He's so scuffed from being dragged across driveways and playgrounds, and he sits and stands a bit wonky because the plastic cracked along one arm, and both his legs tend to pop off, and he doesn't really transform well anymore because of that. I forgot him in a drawer some years back, but nowadays he gets to sit front and center atop my bookcase ;-;
#he was my favorite as a kid bcs of the games and G1. i cant believe i just left him in a drawer like that for so long#augh. my guy <333333. i need to see if i can scrub some of the dirt off and clean him up some. poor dude#ive always admired other people's like. collections and stuff. i mean. having a bunch of pristine or rare figures is super cool. but-#-but I've always loved the sorta charm that comes with people sharing their real personal collections-#-the sorta ''me and this guy/gal go way back'' kinda figures and toys#ones that are a little wonky. or were shared or passed down. or are super special to just the person that has them. fav blorbo type figures#its like. this jazz was my childhood buddy. we had adventures. he fought off monsters. was a giant in lego world. he held my ipod#and its like. yeah. teen years went kinda shit. and i put away a lot of things i loved then. but looking back now-#-the love i have for transformers is bcs of this one little scuffed dude#man. moving again was bound to make me emotional. and its going a lot faster than my family planned. so the stress is kinda piling up#but ough. the memories that come with sorting through stuff 😢#sorry lol. just going through it a bit rn ig lmao#thought id have more time before things really picked up. but the deadline got changed. so. a couple projects are getting pushed back again#its a lot. but aye. getting to be emotional over little plastic dudes is part of the coping process apparently lmao#if anyone read this far. What was your first tf figure or toy? if i can ask?
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nate please please please please I am shaking you by the shoulders right now no one needs to do this please you can make a actual thought provoking interesting thumbnail for the song you don't need to appeal to clickbait algorithms anymore you're still letting yourself be bound to it people loved your early original songs for what they were without this. please stop doing this please stop changing thumbnails I am going to cry
#literally has done this to multiple thumbnails that were even perfectly okay before#I mean the original for this one wasn't all that good either but this is far worse#massive disappointment when I saw with you change it's so. boring and predictable I have seen it plenty of times before#literal opposite of what he was going for#not to mention SCRAP HEAP DOESN'T EVEN HAVE THE SONG TITLE ANYWHERE EXCEPT THE VIDEO ITSELF#nothing left to want became boring too though at least STILL INCLUDED THE TITLE IN IT#does he realize that. THIS is probably just damaging his content further?#I mean he can do whatever he wants and if he's happy with it then fine by me#but do you SEE the traction and views sandcastle kingdoms and paid in exposure got? besides his fnaf songs and parodies#he's ALSO known for phantom! an original song! and I hate that his rebranding of it as a hazbin hotel song actually worked!#because it's not going to continue to!#like dude we all know a lesson in grief has nothing to do with sonic. none of the lyrics tie into anything sonic related whatsoever#ik he's trying to get his stuff out there via the things he was once known for but maybe..... it's time to FULLY let go of that?#bc it's embarrassing to watch and it doesn't feel all that passionate. though he's dropped fandom music he's still very much bound to it#and ADMITS it#please you can make original and thought provoking art! without ties to fandom! idk what you did with your first two original albums#but it wasn't this and you should do it again#I swear nate people love your music for what it is and even though to let go was not my favorite#you still have potential far past what the algorithm is doing to you. none of this is genuine and it's very much present#in how you promote your music. I feel it when I see these thumbnails. I feel it when I watch these videos. it PUTS ME OFF so much#sorry for the rant in the tags and sorry if this is a hot take I hope y'all can see where I'm coming from 👍#natewantstobattle#nwtb#nathan sharp#nate posting#natewantstobtl
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George Inness, Under the Greenwood, 1881
#some art i saw with ratatouille#no bc i was actually obsessed with this painting is was insane#like i just love the general colors and vibes and ahhh its just so comforting and lovely#i saw stood there with my jaw dropped and staring up at it cause i thought it was so beautiful#i love the sheep that are in the field and my favorites are the ones on the far left#and i like the little cowboy dude sitting down and relaxing and reading a book#and i love the dappled light look on the trees#ratatouille said there was a word for that effect in art but he forgot it lol#i want to go to there#ncma
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Selfish - Alastor x Reader Oneshot
You face-planted on your bed, what semblance of energy you had left disintegrating and blowing away in the wind.
Today was too long a day.
Charlie needed some comfort after seeing the news roast the hotel again.
Vaggie needed to be calmed down because everyone got on her nerves.
Angel Dust needed a good hug and reassurance that he was worth something.
Husk had drank too much and threw the empty bottle at you when said as much. (He apologized afterward and the guilt made it easier for you to usher him to bed)
Lucifer was disassociating hardcore and you had to walk him through basic selfcare.
Nifty....Was Nifty.
Not that you minded that they needed different help here and there. Everyone needed a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to. And as far as you were concerned, it really was the least you can do. You couldn't fix their problems, but you can carry some of the load for them. That was...something, right?
A knock on the door made you grimace. Masking your agitation with a neutral expression, you opened your door to see none other than the Radio Demon himself.
He grinned down at you, his arms crossed behind his back, his posture straight, his clothes smooth and unwrinkled.
But...his grin seemed a bit strained, at the corners.
Alastor was difficult to comfort as he insisted he didn't have emotions anyway. And he hated to be touched. And his favorite food was raw venison or demon meat. So most of your techniques didn't have much ground.
However, he did love to laugh. So when he needed it, you would often play the role of a clown.
You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms across your chest and looked up at him with an exaggerated grin.
"Whazzzzah?" You said, intentionally making your voice nasally and high pitched.
Alastor picked you up like a suitcase and carried you back to your bed, sitting you down on the edge of it and kneeling in front of you. His expression didn't change as his eyes flicked over you.
You swallowed thickly. "Er...What bees the ups my dudes?"
No change in expression. No confusion, no mild irritation.
You started to get fidgety. Maybe you needed some new material? You like doing the funny voices and the purposely incorrect grammar, but if he was sick of it it'd be-
You train of through abruptly derailed as Alastor's hand came up to cradle your face. The other one brushing some of your hair out of your eyes. One claw lightly grazed your skin and you winced.
"So Husker's little fit did hurt you, hm?" He said, pressing the pad of his thumb against a spot typically hidden by your bangs - now adorned with a partially scabbed-over cut.
You winced again "What're you talking about?"
"Oh, my dear. I heard what happened between the two of you. The drunkard got a bit too brash and ended up hurting you."
You sighed "It was an accident."
Alastor's eyes narrowed "Ah yes, it's always an accident with you."
You met his glare "What do you mean by that?"
The Radio Demon waved his hand, materializing some first-aid equipment. He didn't even let you know when he applied some antiseptic to your cut making you hiss through gritted teeth.
"A little heads up would've been nice!"
"An accident, my dear."
You deflated immediately "Ah. Okay, sorry-"
"Thank you for proving my point." He cut you off, a slight growl to his voice. Alastor slapped a bandage over your wound and pulled back, glaring at you intently.
"Huh?"
He rolled his eyes "Everything everyone ever hurts you with is an 'accident' to you. No one ever means to hurt you."
You scowled "Husk didn't mean to hurt me!"
"You're allowed to be mad you know." He huffed "Even if it was an 'accident', you could be mad he threw a fucking glass bottle at you!"
"He didn't mean to." You insisted.
"And Charlie didn't mean to dump all her woes on you, and Vaggie didn't mean to make you play peacemaker, and Angel Dust didn't need you to be a therapist. And Lucifer didn't need you to play nurse. And nifty...." he trailed off, unsure how to categorize your helping Nifty today. He shook it off and met your eyes. You glared back at him and pushed him away.
"No! None of them meant to! I chose to-"
"Would it really kill you to be selfish once in a while?" He said, tilting his head. Red eyes narrowed as his ears pinned back on his head.
"Firstly, i'm already dead. Secondly, I'm always selfish!"
"Give me an example."
"WELL, Mister Everything-Is-My-Business, I slept in to like, noon, yesterday-!"
"Because you spent all night listening to Vagatha."
"-and yesterday I ate the last of the spaghetti-!"
"From the meal you skipped while you helped Nifty hunt bugs."
"I hid in my room all day-!"
"Due to everyone not paying any attention to your immense discomfort at their ruckus."
"...You're dumb." You said, crossing your arms across your chest. Alastor rolled his eyes and pushed you down so you were lying on your bed. His hands were on either side of your head as he leered over you.
"Despite doing nothing but listening to everyone's endless ramblings all day, you're immediate reaction upon seeing me is to play jester and make me feel better."
"You looked upset." You said.
Alastor sighed "Exactly your problem, my dear." He moved away so he wasn't pinning you to your bed, calmly removing his monocle to clean it before gingerly placing it back onto his face.
You rolled onto your side to watched him. "...I don't think it's a problem to care."
"It is a problem to care too much."
"Well, you don't care enough so I guess we even eachother out."
Alastor hummed, looking away from you. You bit your lip. Maybe...you pushed that too far? You never really held back the sass with Alastor, but he was already irritated....
"Ask me for something." He said.
"Eh?"
He snorted, ears flopping in agitation "As you said, you care too much, i care too little. So now we'll do this: you care less about what I want and you care more about what you want."
You blinked, confused "....That's. Oddly sweet of you?"
Alastor snorted in response, still locked in a staring contest with the opposite wall. There seemed to be a bit of red creeping up the sides of his face.... Now was he turning red because he was mad or because he was....flustered?
"So. Can i ask you for anything?"
"Within reason."
"....Can I get a hug?"
The record scratch was audible.
"You have the Radio Demon offering you to do a favor for nothing in return, and you ask for a hug?"
"That's what I want?" You said, snuggling underneath your duvet. "Don't worry about it if you don't wanna-"
"Oh for the LOVE OF!" Alastor cut himself off, grumbling something under his breath that did not sound as jovial as his permanent grin may imply.
The man briefly disappeared into a puff of shadows before reappearing under the duvet with you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head into his chest.
You laughed. "Was it that hard to just lift the blanket?"
"Quiet, you." Alastor muttered into your hair. You sighed contently, snuggling closer to him.
"Can I hug you back?"
He tensed up next to you, so you dropped it. Despite his insistence on you being selfish, he didn't push you any further. Instead relaxing more as you made no move to hold him.
"Thanks, Alastor. I'm gonna drift off, so you can head out if ya want." You mumbled into his shirt.
"We'll see."
You didn't bother trying to fight sleep, letting the exhaustion of the day catch up with you and your troubles drift away as you listened to the Radio Demon's heart.
Alastor was still there when you woke up, but don't you dare mention it.
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Once Upon a Time
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 10,031
Warnings: Drugging, Dubious Consent, Impact Play, Jealousy, Manipulation, Mind Control, Mommy Kink, Nursing Kink, Possessive Sex, Sadism, Smut, Somnophilia, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Womb Tattoos | 18+ Minors DNI
Summary: You never expected to meet the twins you had given away over a decade prior on your 29th birthday, but after a chance encounter, you visit the quaint little town of Westview to find more than you bargained for at the hands of its mayor — the dark, elusive, puppeteering Wanda Maximoff. (Once Upon A Time AU)
The journey to New Jersey was seemingly endless. All which could be seen from the inside of your yellow bug were dark trees which embraced the dimly-lit roads of the rural side of the state. It had not been your plan to drive through the most remote part of the tristate area, living in the depths of New York City yourself, but for a spontaneous birthday trip, it was entertaining to say the least.
You eyed the two small children sleeping in the back of the car through the rearview mirror. It had been years since you dared remember the twins you gave away over a decade before. You were young and stupid, getting pregnant before you had even finished your first year of college. Not being fit to be a parent, you decided to have an outsider raise them. Although you never met the one who adopted them, you just knew they were in good hands.
The last thing you had expected was for them to show up at your doorstep on your twenty-ninth birthday. Your phone was in hand ready to call security about two missing children, but after the one with longer hair, Tommy he said his name was, told a story about twins you once gave away, you nearly passed out from disbelief.
They had carried around a rather curious book filled with various comic book stories. You knew them from passing through stores and seeing such familiar names present, but when they each told you they were real people in their town, it took all your energy not to laugh then and there. After brushing it off as a simple case of being children, listening in to them talking about how various people were from such stories, such as their mother being the Scarlet Witch, the waitress at the dinner Black Widow, their psychologist Hulk, among others, you made up your mind.
Not trusting a train to take them back home in the late hours of the night, you drove out to a quaint little town called Westview, New Jersey. You could only assume it was as small as a simple street without much surrounding it as it didn’t even show up online, but with a map – old-fashioned as it was – the boys gave you, you set forth to bring them home. The least you expected was for them to keep you company through the drive, knowing not to get close or else you’d get attached once again, but as soon as you left the city, they passed out.
“I can’t believe I have to drive to creepy New Jersey on my goddamn birthday,” you grumbled. There wasn’t much waiting for you at home, only a frozen pizza to heat up while you watched reruns of your favorite comedy shows, but then again, that was the only entertainment you cared for.
Far too afraid to awaken the slumbering children, no music was put on. You carried lazy, exhausted eyes while driving through the empty roads, confused at the fact that it was a seemingly desolate path no one dared venture forth. It had already been an hour since the last sign of civilization was seen.
When you finally saw the sign reading ‘Westview’, relief shot through you. Only a few more minutes and you’d be driving back home to resume your boring night. Impromptu babysitting was not something you’d signed up for.
“Hey, little runts, we’re here,” you said while turning around to shake the boys awake. “Come on, where’s your home? Your parents must be worried sick about you two.”
“Our mom doesn’t care,” Billy sleepily mumbled, rubbing his eyes as she awoke before his brother. “She sucks.”
“Dude, you’re like ten. Everyone thinks their mom sucks at that age until you’re at least 17,” you shrugged. “And you’re the ones that left this bumfuck town to find me . What kind of birthday gift is this? Haven’t you ever heard of the postal service? Couldn’t you send, like, arts & crafts and call it a day?”
“What’s bumfuck?” Tommy suddenly piped up from the other seat.
“Your parents are going to kill me,” you whispered to yourself. “Just tell me, guys. Where to now?”
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
After seemingly driving around town in circles, you landed before a decently sized mansion. It was much bigger than the other surrounding houses. For a moment you frowned, seeing how private and reclusive, bushed guarding it from perfect view, it was. With a front yard covered with blossoming apple trees and a lengthy path leading up to the front door, you felt a sense of familiarity hit you – remembering seeing it once in a dream along with a red headed creature with glowing scarlet eyes made you shake your head with disbelief.
“Home sweet home. It’s time to say goodbye, kids,” you announced when turning to the twins. They had their knees close to their chest while eyeing their house with fear. It was not a good sign. “Come on, get out of the car. I’m exhausted and need to crash soon before I kill myself in the car.”
“Can you walk us to the front door?” Billy asked with a hopeful voice.
“Kid, you’re practically an adult now. I’m pretty sure you can walk by yourselves,” you rolled your eyes with slight annoyance. Seeing their glassy eyes in the dimly-lit car broke your heart. No names, no attachment. And yet you found yourself wanting to wrap them up, your own children, in a hug. “Okay fine. Grab your things and pray your mom doesn’t kill me.”
You had barely stepped out of the car, opening the back door for the twins to exit, when the front of the house revealed a shadowed figure. Walking down the bricked path to the mansion was seemingly tedious. You weren’t afraid of many things in life let alone for the woman who stood back, a messy bun over her head and donning a rather expensive dress only accented with high-heels and crossed arms over her chest. The closer you got, the more your eyes widened.
With your subconscious taking you back to such a dream, everything in your surroundings turned a macabre dark red. There had been pitch black trees without leaves in sight as their trunks stood mangled as though tortured by the very presence of the woman at the end of the seemingly haunted forest. Glowing red eyes had pulled you forth then and as you stared at the door of the mansion, you saw them once again.
“Please don’t take us back there,” Billy suddenly cried when tugging at your shirt.
“I have to,” you sighed, knowing the kids weren’t going down without a fight. “I’m sure your parents are worried sick about you.”
“We don’t have parents. Just a mom and she’s evil,” Tommy explained from your other side. You hadn’t even noticed how they lacked the book they always carried, leaving it in your car for their ulterior motives.
“Evil?” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?”
“She is. She doesn’t love us,” Tommy shrugged, huffing as he stared down at who appeared to be his mother inside the house.
“She only pretends to,” Billy finished.
“Kids,” you sighed, knowing exactly how they felt. Dropping to your knees to be at the same height, you threw them a sad smile. You’d already gotten far too close, so you mused a bit more closeness couldn’t hurt. “I’m sure that’s not true-”
“Boys!”
The familiarity of the voice which rang through made you frown.
“Tommy! Billy!” the voice exasperated. The hidden figure which once stood by the door ran towards you. Arms were quickly wrapped about the twins, hugging them close. You noticed tears in her eyes which mirrored those of a crocodile. Ignoring the wild red mane which you knew from your dream, your lips formed a thin line. “Are you okay? Where have you been? What happened?”
“We found our real mom!” Tommy snarled before grabbing his brother’s hand. Neither of them dared turn back, instead running off into the house and ignoring everything their mother, well, adoptive mother, had spoken their way. Grimacing, you were left alone with the older woman.
“Y-you’re my boys’ birth mother?”
There was something enchanting and yet secretive about her. You couldn’t help but feel as though she towered over your being, smirking with raised eyebrows while you hid underneath her shadow. Each little second that passed by in silence, you allowed your eyes to rummage through her body. The tight, perfectly cut black dress accented her thin eyeliner. Hands were on her hips, clearly dominating you without daring to say a word. You allowed yourself to stare up her perfectly toned legs to her midsection, then find her cleavage before snapping yourself up to her lips. With them parted slightly, lipstick all prim and proper, you knew she was a woman impossible to forget.
“Hi,” you awkwardly replied. At the hospital when giving away the twins, no one had dared to prepare you for such a moment. It was supposed to be a closed off adoption, no one was to know and yet you were easily found by a pair of children who carried hatred for their mother.
The older woman took a moment to compose herself, lips going from disdain to a fake smile you saw right through.
“How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you’ve ever tasted?” She questioned, her voice thick with an accent you couldn’t recognize.
Chuckling, you shook your head. “Got anything stronger?”
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
Tommy and Billy had long run upstairs when you were allowed into the house. Greeting the woman who you learned was Wanda Maximoff, mayor of Westview, was awkward on its own. Mostly due to the rampant disbelief and similarity to a witch having appeared in your dreams. On the way to their home, the twins had shown off a book filled with various comic book characters – superheroes at that. You shook your head when they mentioned an entity called the Scarlet Witch, said to be their mother, but as you eyed the woman who handed you a glass of brandy, you couldn’t help but let your curiosity win.
“How did they find me?” You asked after taking a sip of your drink. With the way it went burning down your throat, you closed your eyes with relief.
“No idea.” Wanda replied, her viridescent eyes unmistakably glowing red without your knowledge. “When I adopted them, they were only three weeks old. Records were sealed. I was told the birth mother didn’t want any contact.”
“You were told right.”
“And the father?” she curiously wondered. You took note of how she refused to drink alcohol and instead went to her apple cider. Her apparent obsession with apples was something you found quite amusing.
“There was one,” you giggled a bit. It was a mistake more like it, a chance encounter at a bar you were far too young to enter with a fake ID and your friends. You hadn’t even gotten his name, but of course ended up with his children.
“Do I need to be worried about him?” Wanda dragged herself down the hall where you followed obediently. Without daring to say a word, you’d exhibit no hesitation when listening on to silent orders.
“Nope. He doesn’t even know.”
“Do I need to be worried about you, Ms. Y/L/N?” There was fear in her voice which dismayed you from the well-put together, secretive woman. Whatever the kids said, you could tell she truly cared for them.
“Absolutely not,” you were quick to reply. As much as they would love for you to take them away, you had your own life built without any children. There was a reason you had given them to someone else. You weren’t fit to be a mother so Wanda, even as severe as she seemed, took that place in your name.
The office reeked of cinnamon apples when you first walked inside. The smokey nature of it, only a light turned on in the corner alongside a strip of pictures the mother and children pilled, made a warmth settle over your chest. You always did pride yourself in holding down your alcohol, but even a slight sip of the drink made your head feel woozy. Sitting down on the couch, you huffed. With hazy eyes you could barely see Wanda’s blurred figure who closed the door and sat across from you.
Gripping the faux leather couch, you frowned. There was still control you exerted over your body, but felt a strange, wicked attachment to Wanda. Looking down at the drink you noticed bubbles rising from the remaining liquid. It wasn’t a good sign but then again you were far too gone to care.
“I’m sorry they dragged you out of your life. I really don’t know what’s gotten into them.”
“The kids are having a rough time,” you shrugged. It took a moment to situate yourself, blinking various times until your vision, to your disdain, only got worse. “Happens.”
“You have to understand, ever since I became mayor balancing things has been tricky. You have a job I assume?”
“I, uh, I keep busy, yeah,” you shook your head. Wanda stared into your soul when you so much as made eye contact with her. She licked her lips, hunger striking while you grew more loopy by the second.
“Imagine having another one on top of it. That’s having a single mom.” Crossing her legs, the woman’s eyes flickered over your body. Beneath the pristine cover as a mayor lay a beast, a witch, who only wanted to come out and play. Unbeknownst to you, she had been expecting your arrival ever since she casually dropped a slip of papers near her children’s room knowing they would unknowingly bring you to her. “So I push forward. Am I strict? I suppose, but I do it for their own good. I want my boys to excel in life. I don’t think that makes me evil, do you?”
“I’m sure they’re just saying that because of the comic book thing,” you pointed out.
“What comic book thing?”
There was feigned confusion from Wanda. Truly she knew about the book which carried the stories of the townspeople. It was crafted with the help of the Darkhold, telling each person’s lives in the universe they had previously called their own. As the ruler of the cosmos, she simply had to find her children. If it took taking a chunk of their universe and bringing them to a town, which was not supposed to exist in that universe, in another, then so be it. Wanda would have her happy ending no matter what – you were only an added bonus to having her children already.
“Oh you know, their book. How they think everyone’s a superhero from it,” you chuckled at the mere idea of it. For a moment you wondered if you were in it. “Like their shrink is the Hulk.”
“I’m sorry. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh. You know what? It’s none of my business,” you ended up awkwardly laughing. It was so difficult to breathe. With eyelids growing heavy, you held onto the couch for support. “They’re your kids and I really should be heading back.”
In your attempts to stand up, you nearly fell face first after so much of a step. With surprising speed Wanda was there to grab you in place, humming amusement as you fell onto her. She grabbed your hips, pulling you close enough to her until your face lay against her shoulder, bodies melting together.
“Of course. It’s getting late, darling. I’ll have to get you to a safe place all by myself. We can continue this conversation some other time.” She dragged you out of the room, flicking her wrist so that all the lights there dimmed down and the door closed behind her. Lips were pressed against your cheek, dropping a kiss there before making their way to your ear. “Have a good night, darling,” she breathed out with a tone dripping with lust. “Happy birthday.”
There came a frown when she uttered the words, but you were barely conscious to properly react. Your body had a mind of its own as it sagged while being pulled away. Wanda had your body and soul the first time she had set her eyes on you in your dream, only controlling you by having slipped something into your drink. As fear began to set in, eyes growing wide, everything suddenly turned black.
Under Wanda’s grasp, you were nothing but an obedient pet.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
When you awoke your head felt like it was about to burst. You grimaced, massaging your temples as the pain shot through the rest of your body, which was suspiciously lacking clothes let alone for your underwear. Not even the bed sheets beneath your back covered you up while inside the strange room. It carried a horrid floral wallpaper similar to that of the 80’s almost as though you had gone back in time.
Sighing, you shook your head. All you could remember from the previous night was having one too many drinks at the mayor’s place before inevitably needing to be taken away to the local inn. a brain filled with fake memories was not something you could put a finger on, only following what you believed to be real.
“I’m such an idiot,” you mumbled to yourself. Ignoring the growing headache from what you imagined to be a typical hangover, you huffed. Making yourself look like a drunk in front of your children’s mother who incidentally was the most powerful person in town. You ignored the book that casually sat on the bedside table of the inn, mysteriously appearing alongside you after having previously been sitting in the backseat of your car.
Deciding to get a head start on the drive back home, you gathered a few of your belongings sprawled across the room and headed out. The lanky hallway reeked of lavender which was far too much for your suddenly sensitive nose to get used to. Peering through the mysterious path, you waltzed on. Your stomach was rumbling far too loud for your comfort.
You ended up at a diner connected to the inn. It was small, quaint, and rather old fashioned with a jukebox still sitting at its side playing light tunes from past decades. Although it was barely packed, all eyes were on you. Perhaps it was the clothes from the previous night you still wore, desperately requiring a shower already, being a new face in such a small town, or both. Still, you ignored each patron of the restaurant and sat by the corner of the bar.
The menu was handed to you by a woman with dark hair and similarly sharp hazel eyes. She gave you a onceover, not daring to say anything before shaking her head and moving away. As cold as she was, there was an odd sense of familiarity to her.
“What’s a cutie like you doing in a dump like this?” came a voice which snapped you from your thoughts.
Facing from the menu, the sight of a smirking redhead standing at the other side of the counter took you by surprise. She donned an outfit similar to that of a waitress while holding out a mug filled with steaming coffee. Although rather dashing, you only had eyes for Wanda – at the silent revelation you frowned, almost as though she was in your head which, not that you knew, was not so far from the truth.
“Just dropping a pair of kids off. Not exactly how I thought my birthday weekend would go, but it’s better than sitting home and lighting a candle on a store-bought cupcake,” you chuckled dryly. “I’m just getting some breakfast before I head back home.”
“Oh it’s your birthday?” She casually asked.
“It was yesterday.”
“Well, happy belated birthday, malyshka,” the redhead mumbled before pointing to the menu. “Guess it’s on the house for you. It’s not every day we get such cute visitors. I wouldn’t mind seeing you around more often.”
“If you’re ever in the city you know who to call.” You gave the menu a once-over before landing on a whole stack of pancakes which made your mouth salivate. That along with the coffee would be the perfect fuel to get you back home safe in a matter of hours. After telling the waitress your order, you took your chance. “I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N Y/L/N.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Name’s Natasha,” she beamed before holding out her hand. You didn’t hesitate even a second to shake it. “Sorry about my mom by the way. Melina’s not really used to new people. We actually haven’t had any visitors in years.”
“I get it. I couldn’t even find directions to this place on my phone. It’s a bit weird, but it seems like a nice enough town. Very different from the loud and obnoxious city.”
Natasha was very different from Wanda. You quickly learned that she was adventurous and longed to meet new people, perhaps escape the small town of Westview to move out west with her sister in tow. The two of you talked for what seemed like hours even between you gnawing at your pancakes and her being yelled at by her mom, who spent most of her time in the kitchen alongside her dad, to tend to other incoming customers.
To your dismay each time you so much as attempted to get close, even with light brushes against her hand, you felt a burning sensation on your lower stomach each second you talked more with Natasha. Hissing quietly, you pressed a hand against the skin. The searing pain along with glowing red eyes which zeroed in on you from outside the diner foreshadowed the life you’d lead, never daring to leave Westview even as much as you wanted.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
You had barely stepped into your room at the inn, already full with breakfast and ready to jump ship, before your mind turned blank. No thoughts swirled over your head, only mere images of a certain powerful redhead who, once again, plagued your life. Not being aware of the woman standing behind you made it easier for her to force you into the bedroom. With hands showing off their red glow and eyes mirroring it, she had you under her spell.
While nearly unconscious, Wanda dragged you to the bathroom. Your eyes were barely open, already drunk with exhaustion as your clothes were shed away. Obedient as she wished, the woman had you stand back as she turned the faucet of the shower. She had taken you to the inn late on the previous night aiming to return in the morning to take what was rightfully hers. Although when seeing you interact with Natasha, the green monster popped out – it was time to show you who owned you.
“Come here, baby,” she cooed while dragging you into the shower. In your naked glory the mayor allowed her eyes to feast up your skin. It was perfect, a blank canvas ready to be used by her. Only making it better was the tattoo she had impulsively decided to give you over your womb – a marking which shone with a scarlet tint in the shape of a particular comic book character you knew. “In the shower, now. If my little angel can’t take care of herself then mommy has to. You’re far too dumb to do it, huh? Always needing my help.”
Stepping into the shower without another word, you sighed. The warm water hit your body leaving you in awe of its silent yet powerful demeanor. While basking on the relief it made you feel, you were ignorant to the curtain which remained open as another naked body slipped behind you. Once perky breasts pressed against your back, nipples rubbing your skin, you let out an involuntary moan.
“That’s the sound I love to hear. You’re such a pretty girl, honey. I’ve missed you,” Wanda mumbled, lips brushing against your ear as she held you close. “You don’t know me, at least not here. You’ve barely even met me and yet here we are. It’s rushed, I get it, but I couldn’t stand another second away from you. Did you miss me, buttercup? I love being in your head as you sleep, but it’s nothing compared to having you here with me.”
“Miss you,” came your hypnotized reply. “So, so much, Wanda.”
“Yeah?” she smirked devilishly. Although it was her own magic making you say those words, she didn’t care. Hearing them again after having lost you in her own universe along with her children made it all better. “You’re safe now, honey. You’re home with mommy. I promise I’ll never let you go again.”
Wanda spent what felt like hours dragging soap along your body. She explored every inch, never forgetting your ticklish spots which made you giggle as she beamed at the joyous sound. Being careful when cleaning the area where the fresh tattoo lay was a must. The last thing Wanda wanted was to ruin the gift she so happily got her pet – a marking so that even touching another person, a potential threat to your owner, made you hiss out in pain and crave her even more.
Fingers danced along your sides as their nails left red marks upon your skin. She desperately craved to possess you entirely, to leave you dripping with blood, body all maimed, with bruises and little cuts she had once left on you. Wanda was nothing if not possessive. You were her property and, whether you liked it or not, she’d make it known to the world.
“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby girl. Now you’re ready for us to have some fun. I want it to be perfect though. You can’t rush this,” she said while allowing the water to overtake your soapy body until you were fully clean. “We can take it slow if you want. But just know that whenever I want to, I’ll have you. I want you to behave and not spend time around that silly waitress. Can you do that?”
“I’ll do as you say, mommy,” came your robotic reply with a mind not your own.
“There’s a good girl. Now it's time to get out of the shower.”
She helped you leave the steaming space, making you stand by the curtains as she dragged a previously dry towel across your naked body. Wanda tilted her head when brushing against the tattoo. Leaning in, she pressed her lips against it. Owning you was the greatest pleasure of her life along with being a mother – doing both made her life perfect.
“You’ll put on the clothes mommy left for you in bed. I want you to stay in town for as long as I say. You will live here, alright? If you behave, then you can stay with me,” Wanda instructed calmly. She stepped back and allowed you to go into the room to eye the pile of clothes on the bed. She knew exactly what you’d be comfortable wearing. “It’s easy, honey. You be a good little pup and I’ll reward you. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. Am I clear?”
“Yes, mommy.”
“Good. Now let me help you get dressed. You’re far too dumb to do it yourself, huh?” Wanda hummed as she stepped closer to you. Eyes roamed her naked body which stood mere centimeters away from your own. While the redhead helped you into your new clothes, making sure to allow her lips to kiss every inch of skin she ended up covering, you were left holding onto her for balance and enjoying the view. “I’ll allow you to spend time with the twins. It’s not like you’ll remember much anyway. Just be sure to keep our children safe otherwise I won’t be sweet with you.”
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
You were left to roam the reclusive town of Westview for days upon days, mindlessly walking across every area and becoming yourself acquainted with it. Various townspeople had eyed you with confusion. As Natasha had said, none of them were used to outsiders. There was fear and confusion stricken over their faces as they saw a new face waltzing down main street.
Wanda had allowed you to see the twins more often than not. They were ecstatic to spend time with their birth mother, running to you to wrap you up in their little arms before jumping up and down, asking what the plan was for the day. She didn’t allow you to leave town. As much as you wished to do so, fighting back and humoring the idea of taking them to the city for a day, the mayor flicked her wrist. Eyes turning red, she was sure to make you see the light.
Most days you spend hiking out with the boys. Tommy was quite fast if you said it yourself. The both of them would do races with him always coming out on top. Admittedly so, Wanda had her anxieties about the twins running around the forest after school, but once you promised to help them with their homework and bring them back to the mansion with full stomachs, she agreed to it – mostly when seeing in your mind how sincere you were.
“What’s going on between you and Wanda?” Billy asked one day when you walked back from the depths of the forest to the car.
“You call your mom by her first name?” You couldn’t say you were surprised about it. After all, they had trash talked their mother each time you were together. A part very deep inside you agreed, but with Wanda in your mind swallowing your thoughts, you tried to dissuade their feelings.
After shrugging, Billy continued. “Sometimes. But seriously, you’ve been weird. You shouldn’t get close to the Scarlet Witch. She’s wicked and evil.”
Tommy remained silent, seemingly exhausted from the walk. As soon as you unlocked the car, he threw himself in the backseat, begging for you to take them to the diner so they could have a burger. You quickly learned they easily dramatized their emotions at times to get what they wanted. You’d say something if it wasn’t for them being your kids.
“It doesn’t matter if you think she’s this villain or not. Wanda is your mom. She’s been taking care of you all your life. She wouldn’t hurt you, alright? You’re her kids. She loves you, little dudes,” you explained when starting up the car.
During the rather short trip to the diner up main street, Widow’s Diner & Inn, both twins remained silent. You took the time to gather your thoughts which, unbeknownst to you, were no longer your own. Pensive thoughts of Wanda have become a daily occurrence for you. At times you’d lay in your bed at the inn all sprawled while your mind went to the woman. She was fierce and powerful, but as much as you feared her, there was something familiar about her which went beyond your dream. You swore you had known her forever.
You shook your head when arriving at the diner. The boys were rather excited to finally eat, already jumping up and down with sudden bursts of energy which were only dissuaded when you ordered them to bring their backpacks – the homework would not be done by itself unless you wished for Wanda to have your head, figuratively you hoped.
“Burgers and fries for you guys again?” You asked when taking a seat in a booth in the corner of the diner.
“Yes!” came the little voices simultaneously.
After giving your order to a rather giddy Natasha, who made sure to ask about your day along with the twins’, you tapped on the table rhythmically. The boys were instructed to take out their homework and get a head start before finishing it in your room, but Tommy had other plans. The last time he was at the inn he took the book you’d curiously found yourself flipping through late one night. When he slipped it out his bag, you knew you were in for a long dinner service.
“Guys, we don’t have time for fairytales right now. Your mom’s gonna kill me if she finds out you’re doing work when you get home. No offense, but I am more scared of her than you two.”
“Come on, ma. It’ll just take a second. We gotta show you something!” Billy exasperated happily.
You rolled your eyes and let them continue. Without daring to admit it, ever since they had begun calling you ‘ma’ days before, the name coming naturally, your happiness had increased. “Fine, but make it quick. So, who else is a comic book character?”
“You know Mr. Stark Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer? Well, he’s actually Iron man,” Tommy whispered as though it was a long lasting secret they were to keep. He slid the chunky book towards you showing off a picture of a man surrounded by suits of armor. “And his wife, Pepper, is actually Rescue. Isn’t that crazy?”
“Yup, that’s insane,” you replied with feigned interest. While part of you only saw them as silly comic books, you couldn’t help but begin putting the pieces together especially when it came to Wanda. You had yet to say anything about your little encounter, not that you remembered much of it. Still, you knew she was someone not to be tried whether she was the Scarlet Witch or not. “Who else?”
“There’s Brunhilde who’s a Valkyrie. She’s the one that takes care of the horses and everything. Carol is her girlfriend and she’s a bartender who is supposed to be Captain Marvel. We don’t really see her much though. We’re not allowed in the bar. Mr. Stark says they sell really good wings though!” Billy huffed with apparent frustration, suddenly craving hot wings. “T’Challa is the coolest. He’s supposed to be Black Panther and he’s, like, the best math teacher ever! Oh and there’s Peter who’s in high school and he’s Spider-Man. I really like him. Sometimes he visits our school and we get to hang out! But Wanda isn’t a fan of him. She says he’s a bad influence. Oh! She calls him a mu'dak whatever that means.”
At what you knew to be a swear word, you smirked. They were fairly young, sure, but you wouldn’t punish the usage of such a word without knowledge of its meaning. Either way, you were sure you wouldn’t mind if they evolved to much more colorful words. As long as their mom was oblivious to said actions, you weren’t complaining.
“Mr. Rogers, our gym teacher, he’s supposed to be Captain America. Then Thor, the guy that works at the stables too, is, well, just Thor so that’s pretty obvious. You’d think the Scarlet Witch would pick better names to hide their identity,” Tommy shook his head with amusement. “You know Dr. Banner is actually the Hulk and,” he leaned in close, “Natasha is Black Widow. Her dad is actually the Red Guardian. Yelena and Melina are also Widows. Then there’s Clint who owns his own farm with his family. That’s Hawkeye. They’re the main six, ma. They’ll help you break the curse and bring everyone back to their universe.”
Parenting did not come naturally when you decided to give away the twins, but when getting the chance to be around them, to see how similar in nature they were to both you and Wanda, it just felt right. They each had small characteristics shared with you, primarily their propensity for stubbornness and pushing back against authority; their mother being their enemy. While you couldn’t figure out a way to remain in their lives without casting Wanda to the side, it was awfully nice to spend time with the little runts.
Still, it worried you that they put so much effort into accusing their mother of being an evil witch who created and teleported an entire town to a different universe, erasing their lives and memories before implanting new ones. While they were still letting their imagination run rampant as children often did, they took down the already weak relationship they had with their adoptive mom in the process. In the short amount of time you had known Wanda, you knew she didn’t deserve that – she forced you to think she didn't.
“Kid, this isn’t Disney. There’s no curse to be broken. You’re mom’s kinda weird, sure, but that doesn’t make her a witch,” you pointed out.
With a deflated look on their faces, the kids began pouting. It was something you quickly found to be your weakness. You had yet to spend enough time to get to know them well-enough, but knew you would do whatever it took for them. Crushing their dreams wouldn’t help you win the parent-of-the-year award, but perhaps it would get you in Wanda's good graces allowing you to potentially see more of the twins.
When Natasha arrived with your food, only a side of mac & cheese for yourself with a mysterious apple on the side, she flashed you a smile. You allowed yourself to bask in her beauty, thoughts swirling around how badly you’d want to take her hand in your own to bring her close until your lips were ghosting over one another’s. As your lower stomach burned bright red, you clutched it. Surely you couldn’t see yourself willingly settling in Westview, but for the sake of the twins it was worth it, Natasha being an added bonus.
The witch inside your head was not a fan of that, her lips turning into a thin like as you took a bite of the apple she sent your way. In minutes you were dumbed down and controlled just like she wanted. Even before having come to town she was in your head. Only given your arrival, she fully took control of her little toy. There was nothing you could do other than sit back and let her take you once again.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
“You should’ve known better, princess. Everything was going so well. We were going to be a happy family, but of course you went ahead and ruined that. Now I have to force you to listen whether you like it or not.”
They felt like macabre thoughts swirling in your subconscious. You were sleeping soundly in the inn during the depths of the night. With closed eyes and deep in your sleep, you were unaware of the atmosphere around you changing. The air grew thick and musky, your window having been opened by a bout of red magic before an unknown figure made itself into the room. A simple flick of her wrist got your clothes to disappear, not that you knew anyway. That’s just how she’d love to keep you, fast asleep and easily corruptible.
“Just look at how beautiful you are when you sleep. All mine and ready for the taking,” the mysterious voice mumbled as its owner made herself close to the bed. She undressed herself with another flick until her clothes were properly folded over the nearby desk. Leaving the children sleeping peacefully at home, Wanda wandered off to find you. “I was trying to make this special for us, but you left me no choice. Now you’ll have to pay the price. If only you could’ve done what mommy said then none of this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I should teach you a lesson and hurt that Romanoff girl. Would you learn then, baby, that you’re all mine?”
Wanda took her time to use her magic and bind your wrists to the headboard. She had yet to wake you up, instead settling on the bed and between your legs. Her hands found themselves roaming all across your body. She had seen you naked before various times, especially when using her magic long before your arrival to town and watched as you hopped in the shower to sneak a hand between your legs. She was quite the fan of seeing you turn into a mess while she watched without your knowledge.
Sharp nails dug upon your skin before moving down. They left angry trail tracks running upon your chest. They were deep enough to draw small bouts of blood which she happily leaned in to lick clean. Seeing you in pain, writhing in your sleep while she marked your frail little body, was something making Wanda’s heart swell.
“Time for you to wake up,” she said. Fingers went near your forehead before your eyes widened. You were awakened forcefully, fear immediately striking down your being. It wasn’t long before Wanda used her magic to dumb you down once again, the effects of the poised apple mixing with her powers. “Good morning, sleeping beauty. It’s time for us to have some fun.”
“What?” you grumbled while on the bridge between your own consciousness and Wanda’s.
The woman held down your hips and pushed her hips forward enough to let you feel her little secret. While your tattoo burned bright red, so did the dildo nestled between her legs. She let its tip glide up and down your slit, the strap-on growing wet with your juices and spreading against your folds. The mere sight made her groan with arousal.
The redhead urged herself forth. Soon enough, the toy stretched your hole apart, making you moan while making eye-contact with eyes which dripped with bloodlust. Even if she couldn’t feel it, Wanda knew you were a tight, needy mess for her. She drove herself inside far enough to have the head touch your depths, the entire thing being covered inside your cunt in one swift movement.
“Don’t worry pup, it won’t hurt at all. Just let mommy use you, alright? It’s what you’ve wanted ever since you came to me huh? You just needed someone to use you like the cute little fucktoy you are,” Wanda maniacally huffed out. “Mommy’s here now, no need to keep worrying. Let me make your thoughts all mine. You won’t have to think about anything else from now on.”
“W-wanda?”
“Shhh don’t overexert yourself, honey. It’s not good for you. I can tell you’re exhausted. Close your eyes for me. Let mommy use you while you get some good sleep,” Wanda whispered, her lips running up your skin. Teeth grazed every inch before coming down to nip the softness beneath. “Did you like the apple mommy gave you? It made your brain all fussy, didn’t it? It’s just what I wanted. Sometimes my pretty girl needs to take a step back and let mommy help. You want me to make your cute pussy feel good, right?”
“Yes,” you hazily replied. It was difficult to keep your eyes open as you slowly drifted closer to sleep. Your pussy throbbed at the feeling of Wanda moving deep inside you, the dildo attached to her hips being much larger than anything you had ever taken. Even with the mix of pain and pleasure you felt, you didn’t dare complain. “Harder.”
“You want it harder, buttercup? Oh my. Does my dumb baby need mommy to fuck her pussy with my cock?” She was more than happy to hear that hushed plea. “I bet no one’s ever filled you up like this. I’ll ruin this cunt, my fucking property, for anyone else. Not even that Romanoff slut will get to touch you. You’re my little bitch.”
“Yours,” you lazily replied.
“That’s right, Y/N. Mommy’s fleshlight, all happy to be fucked like a whore. After I’m done with you,” she leaned in dangerously close, “you’re going to be an obedient little pet. I can’t wait for you to cum all over my cock. Your cunt is all mine now for the taking.”
Wanda spent countless hours driving the dildo in and out of you. She noticed a bulge appearing each time she went deeper, smirking with pride whenever pushing down on it. You were far too hazy, your mind a mess while laying down and taking whatever she gave you. The tattoo over your skin, the proof of ownership from your master, intensified the lustful feelings hiding inside you.
Fingers gripped your breasts until you cried out in pain. You’d be lucky if your sounds didn’t awaken the entire town, let alone the tristate area. Wanda didn’t care though. If she got caught, everyone would get to see who your owner was. They’d see the stupid, dumbed down little whore she could turn you into without much effort.
“What are you-” you muttered when gaining a bit of lucidity, still coming on and off from Wanda’s strong grasp. Even with your failed attempts to push her off, she continued fucking you with her faux cock.
“I don’t think you want to do that, honey. I could have the entire town here in minutes. Do you want them to see your slutty little body being fucked hard by mommy?” Wanda questioned with raised eyebrows, waiting until you shook your head lazily. “Good. Then shut up and take it. This will be our little secret if you behave.”
“Yes, mommy.”
She did not care when you were driven near the edge. Wanda slapped your breast, nails grazing the mounds and leaving scratches behind. It was a hellish momentum which you could not willingly rid yourself off, but admittedly so, you didn’t want to. You loved the way she rolled her hips, your own moving rhythmically. Each little tug against the magical bindings made a burning sensation shoot down your body. That was enough pain to make you hum with approval.
The sole mistake you made while Wanda writhed on top of you was coming undone without permission. You allowed your eyes to close, exhaustion sliding in, as the knot inside you was finally loosened. Wanda eyed you with fury, viridescent orbs turning bright red as she roared. After a much-deserved slap landed over your face, she huffed.
“You dumb slut. Who gave you permission to cum all over my cock. Stupid girl needs to learn some manners, huh? You always have to wait for mommy to order you around. That’s nonnegotiable, princess.” Wanda slid the strap-on out of you and for a moment you were disappointed at the sudden emptiness between your legs. She used her magic to make the makeshift cuffs around your wrist disappear, leaving red marks along your wrists, along with the dildo strapped to her hips. The way she tilted her head sadistically struck you with fear. “Turn around. I want you on your hands and knees, baby. You don’t get away with being a disobedient little bitch.”
“I’m so sorry, mommy,” you sobbed against the bed sheets, still making sure to follow directions so as to avoid any more anger from arising in her. “I didn’t mean to be bad. It just felt too good. I didn’t know what to do.”
Wanda ignored your apology and instead waited for you to get in position. When your ass was up and ready for the taking, your face still hidden over the mess of pillows by the head of the bed, she found herself to be satisfied enough to continue.
A hand found itself striking down on your backside without notice. She hummed, face lacking emotions before hitting you again with the back of her hand. The actions were carried out over and over again. With hotness shooting across your frame, you felt your cunt practically begging to be touched. Juices ran down your inner thighs all slick and shiny underneath the moonlight.
“Stop squirming. I was very clear with my order’s, wasn’t I? Now stay still and let mommy give you the punishment you deserve.” Wanda remained smacking you until she was satisfied. Your cheeks were red and sore, almost turning to a dark hue the more she torture you. The one moment which she dared stop her attacks was when you allowed yourself to breathe, body sagging while your sweat profusely with fear. “Did you know apples mature very slowly? I grew tired of being alone when enticing this universe. No one knew who I, the Scarlet Witch herself, was. They all forgot about their stupid little heroic past selves and knelt to me, their rightful ruler. I figured that until you had my boys, I had to make preparations. There are over twenty varieties in my garden, just like there are many more of you. Now you better behave, be a good girl and take what mommy gives you, taste my forbidden fruit. Unless, of course, you’d like to be replaced. That can always be arranged.”
“I’ll be your good toy, I promise. I swear I’ll do whatever you ask of me. Just please, don’t hurt me,” you begged.
“Oh but baby, don’t you know? I fucking love hurting you.”
Your cunt was dripping with juices when Wanda smacked it with the palm of her hand. She wasn’t soft by any means, instead hitting you, fingers brushing against your clit from time to time, until you desperately craved more. Each attack made you grow wetter. At one point you began grinding down on her hand each time it touched you. Turning you into a brainless little whore was her greatest pleasure in life.
“Such a cute fuckable puppy. All for mommy to ruin,” she grinned before giving you one last slap for good measure. “I must say you’re taking this all so well. Who knew my baby would enjoy her punishments? It’s adorable.”
“Anything for you- ah!”
Wanda did not allow you to speak. Instead she eased a pair of fingers in you, letting out a throaty moan as she felt your walls clench around her. You were far too soaked allowing her to dive in deep without any issues. She could feel how you throbbed against her digits, your velvety insides practically begging for more.
The craving sensation inside her, a monster who had to be sated, ran rampant. Wanda felt alive as she brought a third finger inside you, spreading you apart further while you clutched the white sheets in torment. It was dirty and animalistic, your body swallowing the witch with gluttony. You couldn’t remember anything but her. Always in your mind and always would be.
“Now you can cum, darling. Go on and put on a little show for mommy,” Wanda snarled as she curled her fingers up inside you.
An all-consuming orgasm took over your being. Your mind, body, and soul were all wrapped around in it, finally being brought peace and piercing pleasure you so desired. Wanda’s free hand was on your body, gripping one of your sore cheeks with might until her sharp nails drew blood. As she had wished, you had crumbled at her feet.
She kept ramming her digits inside you until you’d had enough. When being taken out they weren’t plopped in her own mouth, instead your own. Lips lightly sucked on the fingers as you tasted your own essence. It was sweet and savory. Your eyes were barely open, your body having been turned so you could stare down at Wanda who hovered from above you. As wicked as you knew she was, her mere appearance underneath the blanket of the night was one of an angelic figure.
“You did so well for me, Y/N. Just look at how happy you’ve made mommy. I can’t even tell you how proud I am of you, pretty girl,” Wanda said as she pulled her fingers from between your lips. She cupped your face tenderly, smiling sweetly at the tired little eyes which looked back. “Seeing you all fucked up for me has made mommy really wet. All you have to do is make it better, okay? Then I’ll finally let you rest for a bit. I know you can do it.”
“Always, mommy,” you whispered back – lips were cracked as your body was ready to shut down and yet you had a drive which forced you to please her. “Let me make you feel better, please.”
“Hmm there’s my good girl.”
Wanda crawled up your body, but not before planting a kiss upon your lips. She praised you for your willingness to please then allowed herself to straddle your face. Even with a blurry eyesight ready to give up, you could see wet juices that coated her needy pussy. Licking your lips, you stared up with hunger ready to eat her whole.
The first taste of Wanda was unlike anything else you’d had the pleasure to try before. She lowered herself over your mouth and allowed you to feel her arousal up close. Folds were sloppily spread apart as you ran your tongue through them, groaning at the ecstasy overcoming you.
“You look beautiful with a mouthful of my pussy, angel. And your tongue feels so fucking good,” she swallowed her pride and mewled, “Come on, Y/N. I’m not close. Be good and make mommy cum all over your stupid mouth.”
You spent heated moments eating her out. Your body shifted underneath her while the older woman grinded over your face. She grabbed the headboard for support. Each little thrust brought her pussy down closer to your lips which devoured her greedily. With your hands finding themselves holding her thighs open, you turned Wanda into a mess mirroring your own ragged, fucked up body.
“Just like that, baby. Keep going. Fuck, that feels amazing. I’ll have to give you a reward for making my pussy feel so good,” Wanda chuckled in disbelief. She had never felt such an intense pleasure in her life. Even the way your nails dug over her skin made her arousal shoot through the sky. “I’m c- fuck! Puppy, I’m cumming!”
Your face was left coated with a mess of her juices as Wanda caught her breath. She was tired, exhaustion mirroring your own setting in. it was hard to move herself from your face knowing how glorious she felt with your mouth pressed between her legs. The previous vexation she had experienced was replaced with relief.
Wanda did not hesitate to show off her caring side only when around you. Albeit worn out, she grabbed you from the bed, picking up your weary body before dragging you to the bathroom. There she was quick to run a shower for the two of you. Knowing it would be impossible for you to stand without help, mind blank and eyes closing, she held onto you while running soap all over your decayed skin.
Kisses were dropped along your body as you were taken from the shower. The softness exuding from Wanda was startling to say the least. She had spent tedious, painful years without you by her side. Surely her twins soothed the empty hole in her heart, but without you, there was no family. Having them unknowingly bring you to her was a risky yet fulfilling choice she made.
“I love you so much, baby. You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” Wanda breathed out as she hugged your wet frame from behind. She sighed with relief and grabbed a towel to dry you both up. She’d finally gotten her happy ending. “You’ve been such a good girl for mommy. I’m always so proud of you. Don’t worry, you’re home safe now. I will never let anyone hurt you again. We’ll be so happy here, I promise.”
“Thank you,” you replied. There was no way of knowing whether the effects of the apple had worn out and you were lucid enough to form a coherent sentence or if she still controlled your mind. All you knew is that a sudden burst of adoration for her began soaking your heart. You held Wanda close, not caring if you were naked in the middle of the bathroom, and hugged her with tears in your eyes – it was a mixture of your overwhelming emotions and the enticing pain on you. “I love you too, mommy. Always.”
The night was filled with the remembrance of an old life you’d lived. While you remained in her arms, Wanda held you out of fear of losing you once again. The darkness that exuded from her being, finally falling into her role as Scarlet Witch, did not go lost when she pulled you into the bed. She was flustered, a vision of her past-self, an innocent Sokovian girl who found herself siding with the Avengers to save the world, was clear as day for a moment. Shame filled her features when she ran her fingers down your mutilated thighs, the tips finding the womb tattoo she had gifted you with.
She cupped her face and for a moment, you swore you were back in her universe. You gained clarity, mind coming to terms with the recent events as you place a hand above her own. Wanda was broken, tears filling her eyes as she allowed herself to be weak for once, to be vulnerable before her star-crossed lover’s appearance.
“We’ll be together forever. I’m never letting you go again,” she murmured, her lips shining down upon yours. It was the first time during those weeks she was the slightest bit tender with you, while laying in bed, legs all interlaced with her dragging you on top, you knew you were home. “Kiss me.”
You spent what felt like hours devouring one another. Your brain was still woozy, mind overtaken by Wanda who made you hers over and over. Her nipples brushed against your own, skins slapping as you turned to one. There was no need to fight for dominance as Wanda would come out on top, groaning as she slipped her tongue between your lips.
“Come here, honey. It’s time for us to sleep,” Wanda whispered as she dragged your face to her chest. She guided you until your mouth brushed against one of her nipples. Curiously eyeing up at her with big, doe eyes made her smirk. “Go on, baby. You can suck. I remember you loved doing that with mommy. It was your favorite reward of them all.”
Latching onto her nipple felt natural. Wanda sighed with relief, beaming as she got to feel the happiness experienced in her previous universe. She spent years seeking you out after fighting Thanos. He had taken everything from her – her happiness, her love, and you. She was not proud of herself, of having succumbed to the Darkhold while taking the life of a rather powerful girl to gain her abilities. Bringing those fallen behind had soothed her grief. After all, Natasha and Tony had forever been part of the team she once called a family.
You sucked on her nipple for countless hours. A hand came to play with your hair, fingers drifting soothingly upon your scalp as your eye began closing once and for all. Wanda hummed quietly to a tune you found oddly familiar. While on the run after Germany, she always did love holding you close and whispering sweet Sokovian lullabies until you eventually succumbed to rest.
“Missed you,” you grumbled all tired and ready to fall asleep. You were barely conscious when she turned around with confusion over her features.
There were dreams you’d had which you didn’t know she’d tainted. For decades Wanda had found herself in that universe waiting for you to come to her. She was patient, a feline creature waiting for her prey to be vulnerable enough for the taking. Eyeing you happily, she found herself prouder than ever.
“Hey, look at me,” Wanda raised her eyebrows before roughly grabbing your chin. She pulled you from her nipple, eyes turning red as a sudden jolt of adrenaline shot through her. “You’ll be mommy’s good girl forever, won’t you.”
No hesitation was required for you to give your answer. Even with your jaw all sore, dry tear tracks adorning your flushed cheeks underneath the moonlight, you replied with a choked “Yes.”
For Wanda, that was enough to seal your fate without daring to look back at your previous freedom.
#cthulhus’ fanfics#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff fanfiction
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Guy and a Gain
“Sure, she’s cute. But she can’t give a decent blow job to save her life,” Guy shrugged, checking out the girls on the dancefloor with his football buddy, Rich.
“You’ve slept with her already?” Rich asked, always impressed by Guy’s prowess.
“Of course I have. Look at her. She’s the prettiest girl in here by far,” he nodded down at her. “But she has no instincts when it comes to giving head. She’s been my biggest disappointment since I arrived on campus.”
“I’m sure she could learn,” Rich shrugged, still taken with the girl. He was tall and broad and enough of a catch for her. However, he didn’t have the natural good looks, strapping build and height that made it so effortless for Guy to pick up whoever he wanted on a night out.
“If you want her, go buy her a drink,” Guy shrugged. “But I’m telling you, you’ll be disappointed. If it’s a decent blow job you’re after tonight, you can’t go wrong with a fat girl. They’re always out to please. Gay guys too - awesome at taking a dick in their mouth.”
“Dude!” Rich shot back, taking a step back in horror. “You’re telling me you’re gay?”
Guy laughed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He strapped his big arm over Rich’s shoulders and pulled him back in. “Don’t be that guy,” he stated warningly. “Not if you and I are going to be friends. It’s not the nineties. You hear what I’m saying?” he asked, turning his head to Rich. There was no denying which of them would win in a fight, so he wasn’t about to take some outdated homophobic shit just because the idiot came from some backwards ghost town in the midwest. “I love sex. And I stick my dick wherever it feels good. That’s just the kind of man I am.”
Rich seemed to get that he’d been out of line and he nodded respectfully. All the boys on the football team looked up to Guy, not just for his sporting capability and strength, but because he genuinely didn’t seem to give a crap about what others thought about him. He was smart and sharp; perfectly suited to the business degree he was studying. “So who’s given you the best time since we started college?” he asked.
“You’d be surprised,” Guy chuckled. “I have this skinny little geek in the room next to mine. You could tell he was a total virgin until I came along, but… fuck me! The boy is a natural when it comes to sucking. And so convenient, right next door. I don’t even have to knock.”
Rich nodded; his world view was a little less narrow than it had been a few minutes ago and he now seemed genuinely interested in his team mate’s extensive experiences in the bedroom. They chatted a bit more, until Guy saw the girl he wanted that night. Short, round and eyeing him like crazy. He’d give her a night she’d never forget!
“She was a bit of a noisy one last night,” Mikey grumbled, sliding into the kitchen area the next morning.
Guy laughed and tore a large bite out of his toast with his teeth. “Sorry, buddy,” he laughed. “I forgot you nerds all go to bed at 9am.”
Mikey rolled his eyes and poured himself some cereal. It was rare that they ever got the kitchen space to themselves like this, but Guy was always up for his gym session, no matter what time he went to bed. He sat there, hunched at the breakfast bar, his damp clothes sticking to his enormously muscular body. Even unshowered and stinking of sweat like this, he knew he could still get his favorite neighbor, Mikey, to go down on him in a microsecond.
“I noticed you brought home another fat girl,” Mikey commented next, grabbing the last of his own fresh milk that Guy had left him, after downing most of it post-workout. “You’re making quite a habit of this.”
Guy rose to his feet and laughed, dropping his plate in the sink for Mikey to clean up after him and grabbing the boy by his hips from behind. “Spying on me, huh?” he whispered teasingly. The boy was at least half a foot shorter than him, melting the moment he was touched. “Jealous, perhaps?”
Mikey moaned as he felt Guy’s lustful hands slide into his crotch to check how hard he was. “I just thought…” he mumbled, “some people find it odd when athletes like you date the fat girls.”
“Because I really give a shit about what people think, don’t I?” Guy chuckled back, peeling back Mikey’s shorts so that his tight glutes were exposed. “I could fuck your skinny little ass later if you think it might balance things out a bit?” he teased. He strolled off to the refrigerator, leaving Mikey to cover himself back up before anyone else came in, perusing the shelf of food Mikey had bought for himself yesterday and seeing if there was anything he wanted to help himself to. “Just because you eat like a little sparrow...,” he sighed, seeing the boring items within and taking a large pot of yoghurt to eat in his bedroom, “... it doesn’t mean that everyone else has to.”
Later that evening, Guy lay back on Mikey’s bed, his head swirling from the intensity of the orgasm after shooting down his geeky neighbor’s throat. He’d never admit to his face how good Mikey was at this, but of the scores of people he had slept with since coming to college, Mikey was the only one he’d made a habit of going back to.
“How was that?” the keen boy asked; his eyes watering from having taken Guy so far down his throat.
“Average,” Guy lied, wishing the nerd would be quiet a few moments longer and allow him this period of pure bliss.
“Not like the fat girls you bring home with you then?” Mikey asked.
Guy opened his eyes and sighed, sitting up. “Are you still going on about that?” he grumbled, pulling his underwear back up his muscular legs and raising his butt to get them all the way up.
“I kinda wanted to ask you something?” Mikey tried next, in an oddly serious tone.
Again, Guy sighed impatiently. “What is it?”
“These fat girls you go after… do you ever get horny thinking about them… y’know… getting even fatter?”
Guy raised an eyebrow. What sort of an odd question was that? He shrugged his shoulders, deciding not to commit to an answer and see where the hell Mikey was going with this. “Why do you ask?”
Mikey seemed emboldened by Guy’s response, getting up from his kneeling position on the floor and sitting on the chair by his desk. “It’s just… sort of a fantasy of mine,” he explained.
“Me fucking fat chicks?” Guy asked sceptically? He realised he knew so little about what genuinely got Mike going.
“No. Not that,” he replied, shaking his head. “There’s just something so kinky and submissive about getting fat for someone; becoming soft and out of shape.”
Guy looked across, even more puzzled, despite doing his best to hide it. “You eat less food than anyone else I know,” he shot back. “You won’t be getting fat anytime soon!”
Mikey nodded, as if Guy had hit the nail right on the head. “Exactly!” he smiled. “Imagine if someone pushed me to get fat for them! If some dominant guy made me eat all the things that forced my body to grow and grow for his own pleasure. How fucking sexy would that be?”
Nodding, Guy considered the idea. “You’re definitely submissive enough,” he agreed, standing and pulling up his sweat shorts.
“You’re not going to tell anyone I told you that, are you?” Mikey asked, suddenly panicked.
“Who the fuck do you think would be interested?” Guy laughed. “People are allowed to have kinks, y’know? You need to lighten up a little!”
Mikey nodded back in agreement. Neither of them socialised within the same circles anyway. Guy was nothing if not liberal when it came to all things to do with sex. It was water off a duck’s back.
Mikey didn’t mention the subject the next time Guy went over for his servicing, despite being surprisingly chatty about his day afterwards. Guy listened out of a vague politeness as he stretched out on Mikey’s comfortable bed and watched the TV screen in the background. He could relax around Mikey. The guy didn’t take any of this too seriously and never got clingy or sentimental. Sex was sex.
In fact, it was only as Guy spotted Mikey in the corner at a frat house party, that he realised he had never actually seen Mikey outside of the dorms until then. Their lives were so disconnected, with the exception of the thin wall that separated their dorm rooms. He waved politely, following the other athletes through to the kitchen, where the usual fun and drinking games took place.
Later that evening, with a circle of women swarming around him, Guy looked over to see a boy looking in Mikey’s direction. Tall, slim and not unattractive, he gave Guy the distinct impression that he was interested in the nerdy boy. “Does anyone know who that one is?” Guy asked the girls.
“That’s just Aiden,” one replied. “He’s got a crush on that guy over there,” she pointed at Mikey. “They're on the same course together or something.”
Aiden? That name rang a bell. Guy was sure he’d heard that name mentioned by Mikey a few times in the past. It surprised him how little he had actually considered Mikey’s life outside of their casual fucking. Of course Mikey was going to pique someone else’s interest at some point. Guy wasn’t the type to get into a relationship, but perhaps Mikey would be. Then what would happen? No more awesome blow jobs for a start. Normal people weren’t good at sharing.
“Hey, Mikey!” Guy suddenly shouted from across the room, catching sight of Aiden moving in, as if to make his move. “Come grab a drink with me.”
Mikey smiled and diligently headed over. There, Guy wrapped a big arm over his slim shoulders and slipped a shot into his hand. Guy himself didn’t drink, never needing alcohol to make him fun at a party and refusing to fuck his training up with toxins that could impact his progress. There he stood, guarding the boy from any who may try to come near. Ten minutes was all they stayed after that, walking back to the dorms so that Aiden couldn’t sneak his way towards Mikey when Guy wasn’t looking.
“Are you coming in?” Guy asked, opening the door to his own bedroom and inviting Mikey inside.
“I’m honoured!” Mikey joked, having never been invited into Guy’s room before. He stepped over the threshold, into the dungeon of mess, sweat and sex.
The idea of Aiden had plagued Guy’s mind, suddenly making him realise just how much he had taken Mikey, and his awesome sucking skills, for granted. A gesture was required; a way to show the boy that his pleasure was important too. Guy stood in the middle of the room, planting his feet solidly and pulled the geek into him; kissing him passionately in an almost romantic manner. “Did you like that?” he grinned afterwards, knowing how well he could seduce when he wanted to. He pulled off his shirt and went in again, this time guiding Mikey’s hands to explore his muscular chest. He needed Mikey to know what an absolutely perfect specimen he was if the boy was going to be asked out by Aiden soon; let him see what he would be missing out on if he got into a relationship. “Let’s take off your clothes,” Guy whispered next, undressing Mikey himself until his pants and underwear fell around his feet and he stood there naked, erect and longing for him.
Mikey seemed to appreciate how different this all was. Guy was the first to admit that he never really put the effort in when it came to his sessions with the boy next door. Then, when Guy started sliding his large hand up and down Mikey’s hardness, the skinny boy moaned like he could climax at any time.
Guy had no intention of losing his fuck buddy. For the last hour, he’d been plotting how best to handle the situation, settling upon something he decided he could give Mikey better than anyone else. He threw open his closet door where a mirror rested on the other side, now reflecting Mikey perfectly back at himself.
“Who’s that skinny little shit in the mirror?” Guy teased him, looking like a monster of pure muscle stood behind him.
In the mirror, Mikey watched Guy’s hand slowly sliding up and down his hardness; his lust filled eyes half closed and his jaw slack.
“I want you to do something for me,” Guy whispered next. “I want you to drink my protein shakes,” he nodded backwards to the little minibar that also served as a bedside table for him. “Five hundred and eighty calories each,”
Mikey turned and looked up at him, as if the reflected version was merely a mirage. “You want me to drink all your shakes?” he asked, as if worried he had misunderstood.
“Yeah, I do…” Guy nodded down at him. “Every last drop.”
Guy could feel Mikey almost quivering with arousal. He bent down to his little fridge and popped the lid on one of his shakes.
“You know what these will do to you, right?” Guy grinned. “These aren’t made for skinny little dweebs like you. Boys who drink these and don’t exercise… they start to…” he whispered, keeping Mikey hanging on his every word. “...They start to get a little fat!””
Mikey nodded with absolute submission; his hands twitching to take the bottle from Guy’s large hand.
“Say goodbye to the skinny boy,” Guy laughed, nodding at the reflection once more, before twisting the mirror slightly so that the angle changed. Then he sat himself against the headboard of his bed. He spread his legs, pulling Mikey to sit into his crotch with his back resting against his strapping chest. Cleverly, Mikey could still see everything in the mirror as Guy’s hand rose up his neck, tipping his head back so that it rested on his muscular shoulder. Then those strong fingers pressed into Mikey’s cheeks, opening the jaws and turning Mikey’s mouth into the perfect pouring hole for the shake.
The mixture was cold. Guy took his time, adding a little at a time, as if making Mikey work for it. He theatrically rubbed the boy’s throat, like he was encouraging a good swallow; then went straight back to work on that aching erection. Once one bottle was down, Guy could reach with his giant arm span down into his minibar for the next, without even having to move Mikey. Then, down went another, and another.
“Can you see what’s happening?” Guy whispered, rubbing a hand over Mikey’s bloating stomach.
“It looks so big!” Mikey moaned back, with Guy having to pull his hand away from the boy’s erection once again in order to stop him climaxing.
“This is what you’re going to grow for me,” Guy demanded. “Every day, everything you eat… all for me.”
Mikey moaned so loudly now, it felt almost cruel to deny him his orgasm any longer. “Yes!” he nodded emphatically. “I swear. I absolutely swear!”
Guy only needed to touch him for a few seconds and the eruption that followed was more explosive than any he had ever seen a guy make. He looked at the splatter above the headboard behind them and chuckled. It was almost as high as he could get it himself. This was certainly a strange kink that Mikey had, but Guy felt that he had made his point well. No one was going to indulge this geek in his fantasies about weight gain; at least, not like Guy could. So why would Mikey need to look for connections anywhere else?
A few days later, Guy did a double take as he looked on Mikey's shelf in the refrigerator for food he could steal after his workout. Gone were the boring, sensible ingredients, replaced with high carb options, sugars and high fat dairy. Guy almost thought he was just confused, until he checked out the cupboard that Mikey kept for himself as well, finding a similar story. He frowned in confusion, wondering whether people had reorganised the kitchen space, until the encounter with Mikey nights before came back to him. Was the boy actually going to have a go at gaining a few pounds? How cute was that? But would this mean that Guy would have to buy more of his own food whilst Mikey was going through this little phase of his?
The normally fresh and clean smell of Mikey’s room was tainted by spices and the sweaty, grease stained food containers that piled up on the boy’s desk. Mikey himself looked bloated and sluggish, his stomach stretched so much that he was obviously in some discomfort. Guy looked down at him, trying to hold back a laugh. “Someone’s been enjoying himself!” he teased.
Mikey nodded. “If I’d have known you wanted to stop by tonight, I’d have saved the pizza so you could watch me eat it all for you.”
Guy wondered what on Earth Mikey expected him to get out of watching him eat a pizza. Was it supposed to be kinky? Like the protein shakes? Perhaps it was part of the submission aspect. All the same, it sounded more than a little dull. But this was Mikey’s kink and Guy was hardly about to shame him about it. On the contrary, how exciting that the otherwise vanilla boy was actually doing something that he genuinely found thrilling. “We’ll have a little fat belly on you in no time!” he smirked, reaching down to pat the clearly overstuffed stomach.
Like a flip switching in Mikey’s mind, the boy instantly became more aroused. Guy took notice, rubbing the stomach more and more, until Mikey finally fished out Guy’s boner and set his magic mouth to work.
“Have you seen Mikey recently?” asked Hannah, a former conquest of Guy's and the girl who lived across the hallway. “He’s seriously packed on the Freshman Fifteen.”
“You probably just saw him after he’d had a meal,” Guy replied knowingly. “He tends to eat a lot in one go. He gets bloated.”
Hannah shook her head, not accepting the excuse in the slightest. “This was first thing in the morning. He has actual love handles!” she stated emphatically.
Now it was Guy’s turn to shake his head. He’d only been in to play with Mikey a few days before the Spring Break and he hadn’t noticed any sign of love handles before then.
Hannah laughed. “Seriously!” she chuckled. “I’m not making this up.”
Guy marched down the corridor and knocked on Mikey’s door, making Hannah laugh as she stayed in the kitchen. “Wakey, wakey!” he called out, knowing that the boy was rarely up at this time on a Saturday. In the short space of time that it took a groggy Mikey to get out of bed, the door clicked unlocked and in Guy went, closing the door behind him. The dark, hunched form of Guy’s drowsy neighbor slipped straight back into bed. Instead, Guy strolled over to the window and threw them open dramatically. “Time to get up!” he teased.
As light flooded the room, Guy could see the mess of wrappers and containers that was testament to how much Mikey had been overfeeding himself since he arrived back on Wendesday night. He laughed to himself, picking up some of the mess and putting it on the boy’s desk. Then, knowing that it would frustrate Mikey, he reached for the duvet and yanked it away with full force, uncovering the entirely naked boy lying on his front underneath.
Guy’s eyes flew to the little rounded pads of flesh on Mikey’s side, the skin starting to crease and mark the area more clearly: love handles, without a shadow of a doubt. “Ho, ho!” he blasted in amusement. “Look at you!” he marvelled, reaching his big hand down onto his neighbor’s glute and finding it was squishy and significantly bouncier, with clearly added mass to it. “Someone is actually getting chubby!” he teased, absolutely astonished with the difference. That skinny little ass was gone, replaced with something much more meaty and even a little feminine.
Despite his tiredness, Mikey wrigged with arousal at the touch as Guy began playing with the softness that even spread down into his thighs. He rolled over; his erection already sizable as he tried to open his eyes and look towards Guy, even with the harsh light coming in through the window behind him.
What was happening to Mikey’s chest? Guy inspected further. The nipples seemed softer and the blubbery build up in the boy’s love handles was further spread across his stomach, deepening his belly button. “Stand up,” Guy demanded. “I want to look at you properly.”
Mikey did as he was told, Guy placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, guiding him over to the mirror, so that he could see all angles at once.
“Fuck!” Guy laughed, seeing what a transformation had been silently happening behind his back. He felt proud. The biggest complaint people had about Mikey, here in the dorms, was that he was a fairly dull and boring person. Well, look at him now! This was hardly boring. The kinky little fucker was actually doing something none of them would ever have the guts to do. “I’m pleased,” Guy told him honestly, looking at his face in the reflection. “How does it feel for you?”
At this Mikey’s hands began exploring himself, grabbing at the fat and jiggling where he could with the tips of his fingers. “Amazing!” he whispered back, bursting with arousal.
“Well then…” Guy smiled, placing his hand back on Mikey’s chubby glute: his favorite new feature by far. “...You have to keep going,” he stated. “Keep eating and eating. Add more and more fresh fat onto this frame of yours.”
“I will,” Mikey nodded back obediently. “If it’s what you want. I’ll keep going as far as I can!”
Guy had never seen Mikey’s dick dribbling with arousal so easily. If this weight gain and submission was what aroused him so much, there was no way he could let it stop. “It’s what I want,” Guy agreed. “I want you to grow a proper fat belly, just for me.”
The pair kissed. Guy had never felt Mikey moan and collapse into him quite so much; like a ragdoll, ready to be played with.
“I know what’ll help…” Guy laughed, pulling down his pants and tugging on his own semi-erection until it was pumped and hard. “Let’s lubricate your throat ready for a full day of eating,” he joked cheekily.
Immediately, Mikey slipped to his knees. His jaws opened and he hungrily took the whole of Guy’s enormous erection down his throat like no one else on campus could. It took Guy by surprise each time, how instantaneous the pleasure was. He had to spread his legs a little more and reach one hand out to steady himself on the wall for fear that he may fall over. He didn’t need to press Mikey’s head into his crotch. The boy needed no guidance in the slightest. It was all just so perfect.
An involuntary moan escaped Guy’s lips. Now that his fuck buddy was getting fat, he wouldn’t have to worry about someone trying to steal him away. Mikey’s mouth was all his.
No one on campus was aware that Guy and Mikey were anything more than casual acquaintances, and so no one was cautious about discussing Mikey weight gain around Guy. The overall feeling was one of amusement. In many ways, it was understandable. Mikey had indeed been incredibly thin at the start of the year and he was heading towards the summer looking significantly softer and padded. For the most part, Guy simply ignored it, or tried to move the conversations away. He wasn’t about the campus drama and the behind the scenes bad-mouthing like some of the others. Sure, people were going to talk, but they didn’t have the full story in the same way that Guy did.
The final football game of the season arrived and Guy was pumped for it. He didn’t get nervous like the others seemed to. He was also bigger than everyone else on the field, not weighed down by excess weight, making him lighter on his feet than the opposition ever expected from him. He’d been buzzing the entire morning, heading to the gym for a full session despite the advice from his coach to rest that morning. He simply had too much energy to spare. He knocked on Mikey’s door wondering whether the boy was up for a little fun before he had to leave. Unlike everyone else in the dorms, Mikey never came down to the games. He simply wasn’t into sports, and that was fair enough. In fact, Mikey seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that it was even taking place that day, answering the door and ushering Guy inside excitedly.
“Look what I bought!” the chubby boy smiled, leading Guy over to his desk where a large, round cake sat waiting for a party of twenty people to come in and start feasting upon it. “I’m going to try and eat it all this afternoon!” he beamed.
Guy chuckled to himself, seeing the erection already pressing against Mikey’s sweatshorts. “You go for it, buddy!” he smiled, clapping the boy on his back. His enthusiasm for overeating and putting on weight was almost infectious at times. He lifted the plastic lid and swept his finger around the edge, gathering a decent amount of cream which Mikey excitedly sucked off.
“Do you want to feed it to me?” Mikey asked, pulling his shirt off to reveal his softening torso.
Inwardly, Guy sighed with disappointment. How long would that take? He had to leave in twenty minutes or so, and if Mikey’s mouth was going to be occupied that entire time, there was no chance of a quick blow job.
“How about…” Guy began, lifting his own shirt off and dropping his shorts and underwear, “...we both have a little fun at the same time?”
“What did you have in mind?” Mikey asked, watching as Guy pulled out the lubricant from the drawer and squirted it into his hand.
Guy looked down at him with a smirk. Then he reached a hand into Mikey’s crack and began preparing the area, making the boy moan with arousal as his large fingers brushed and gently penetrated. Mikey pulled down his underwear to help him and was soon leaning into it so much that Guy could give him a decent warm up.
Having a firm press down on his back, Mikey obediently slipped onto all fours. Guy reached for the cake and placed it underneath the boy’s face. “Ready?” he asked, reaching for Mikey’s jaw, as if loosening it up for better movement and stretch.
Mikey’s eyes were on the prize. His head was lowered down into it, perhaps more than he was expecting, his nose now pressing into the sponge and his tongue lapping it all up with ferocious speed.
Guy assumed his position, grabbing a condom, sliding his hardness into Mikey’s gaping butt and sighing with pleasure. As blessed as most people told him he was with such a large dick, Guy found he was rarely allowed to settle into his own good rhythm when penetrating. There was simply too much of him to handle. WIth Mikey, however, the boy just seemed to relax so much, it was like total freedom for Guy. After wincing the initial time they had tried this, Mikey took to it with ease. He was the only one Guy could properly deliver what he referred to as a ‘thorough pounding’.
Through the mirror, Guy could see that Mikey’s face was now covered in cake as he tried to gorge himself at the same time as his body was getting pumped from behind. Guy laughed, happy to take the control that Mikey offered up so willingly. “Come on!” he chuckled. “You can do better than that!” he called out encouragingly, seeing Mikey’s tongue scrabbling about trying to lick up as much as he could.
The fat on Mikey’s back had really come a long way since they had last done this. The love handles in particular seemed to ripple and bounce out of sync with the rest of his body. The bones in his shoulder blades were less severe and an emerging softness appeared to be forming just under his arms. However, the boy’s butt was the centerpiece; the way it was spread so wide and felt so much softer to the touch as Guy gripped on.
A moan started emanating from Mikey. In the mirror, his eyes were rolling up into his head. He began oinking - actually oinking, as he continued to gorge himself. Guy sped up. There was nothing he got off to more than seeing someone else genuinely getting lost in the moment. Mikey was letting go like never before.
“That’s it!” Guy cried out. “Oink like a pig!”
Without even a hand anywhere near his own hardness, it was obvious that Mikey was climaxing. His face fell upon the cake and he groaned louder than he ever had during sex before. The whole thing made the pleasure build upon Guy with rapid speed; almost taken by surprise as he felt himself squirt.
Guy wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed in relief. He’d rarely felt so completely satisfied before. He pulled out, stopping only momentarily to chuckle at the wide, gaping hole he left behind, then unpeeled the condom and began dressing himself. The mess was everywhere, cake smashed into the carpet that would take some time to scrub out.
“Thanks for that,” Guy smiled, looking down at the fat boy who had rolled onto his doughy rear and not even attempted to clean any of the cake off his face yet. He too seemed to be enjoying momentary bliss, grabbing at the first roll of his fattened stomach like it was the most precious thing in the world. Guy’s work was done here.
During the summer months, Guy had sweet talked his way into an internship with a local company, hoping to boost his CV for when he finished his degree in a further two years. He didn’t need to be told that his pretty face would be an asset for the company, but he was surprised at how much more he was interacting with the clients than the others in his position. A well fitting shirt and a tight pair of pants never failed to make things easier for him to charm pretty much everyone he was around. Already, he could see how well suited he was to business; his boss realising what a force to be reckoned with Guy could one day become. "This guy is going to take over the world one day!" she'd laughed as Guy pulled in new clients from a sponsorship event that he had organised entirely by himself.
Guy had also briefly dated a couple of girls, wanting to experience the steamy ‘summer love’ of his old high school days. However, he still had no intentions of settling down for anyone. Not a chance!
Mikey, meanwhile, had taken a job at a fast food restaurant back in his hometown; returning to campus that year looking like he hadn’t stopped eating the entire time. Quite a few of them had applied to stay in the dorms and been successful, but there was still plenty of fresh meat for Guy to enjoy about the place.
Guy remembered being quite taken aback when he saw the full stomach on Mikey after their time apart. It had morphed from a tight paunch to a full starter gut, complete with pointed and juicy-looking nipples. Had the boy seriously eaten nothing but fast food all summer? A simple rub of Mikey’s stomach or jiggle of his fleshy rear never failed to get the new chub horny, and Guy was all in for that. He thought back to the previous year and how forward he’d had to be with shy Mikey just to let him know that he was interested. Sex had not been a part of Mikey’s life before then, and now look at him: his entire body turned into a playhouse of his kinkiest sexual fantasies! Guy felt nothing but pride.
“You knew Mikey from last year, right?” asked Samantha, a clearly high-maintenance fresher girl who had moved in last week. “Maybe you can get through to him.”
“Why?” Guy asked, wondering what seemed to be so urgent.
“You need to let him know that we don’t want to see his belly hanging out anymore. He’s just bent down into the refrigerator and I had about four inches of his butt crack staring back at me!”
Guy laughed. “Is that all?” he sighed in relief. “I thought something was wrong.”
Samantha exhaled in shock. “Something is wrong!” she blasted. “He can’t be allowed to keep walking around in clothes that are that tight! It’s disgusting!”
“Leave him be,” Guy shrugged. “You don’t need to be around him if you don’t want to.”
“There are some guys who make fun of him on his course,” Samantha pressed on. “If he’d just wear a damn sweatshirt or something to try and make himself look like less of a target, I’m sure they’d leave him alone.”
At this, Guy stood up from his chair, suddenly filled with anger. “Who’s been making fun of him?” he demanded, ready to go and see to them, right there and then.
“Mikey is the one who needs speaking to!” Samantha shot back. “Go ask him who the guys are. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
Shaking his head with annoyance, Guy stormed down the corridor and let himself into Mikey’s room without even knocking. The boy was sitting at his desk, still pushing a large tray of cream cakes he had collected from the refrigerator when he had offended Samantha so much. He turned in surprise, seeing Guy bursting in on him like this.
“Who’s making fun of you on your course?” Guy asked, closing the door behind him.
Mikey smiled; his chubby cheeks and chin showing all the more. “Oh, you heard about that?” he chuckled. “A couple of the new freshmen: Dan and Alec.”
“You’ll need to point them out to me,” Guy demanded, clearly annoyed. “I’ll soon sort them out.”
Mikey’s face was one of pure amusement. “Not everything is a problem that needs fixing,” he simply replied, pushing a cream cake into his mouth.
“What is it they say to you?” Guy pressed on.
Mikey chewed and swallowed. “Oh, lots of things!” he giggled. “Fat Boy, Pig, Piggy, Lardass!”
Guy could feel his heart beating faster with frustration However, Mikey seemed entirely relaxed and happy. “Wait a minute…” Guy stopped him. “Is this one of those things..?” he pondered. “Are you… Do you get off on this? The guys treating you that way?”
Mikey raised his eyebrows cheekily, not needing to say anything further.
“That’s why your clothes are so tight this year, isn’t it? You actually want people to comment?” Guy asked next, feeling like he had delved further than ever before into the mind of his part-time lover.
Again, Mikey only pressed a cake into his mouth and smirked.
Guy felt all the pent-up frustration in him release. A great wave of affection for Mikey swept through him and he reached out a hand to pull the chubby boy up from his chair, leaning him back into his great arms like he was trying to seduce him all over again. “You’re the kinkiest little fucker I’ve ever come across,” he smiled with delight. “You know that right?”
Mikey swallowed and grinned back. “You started this,” he stated, rubbing his easily accessible belly fat as his overly short t-shirt rode up.
Guy looked down at the boy’s gut and nodded. “I sure did!” he teased. “And what a good piggy you’ve turned out to be!” he smirked, trying the word out now he knew a little more about how it excited Mikey.
The chub seemed to melt into him further. They kissed and then quickly undressed for the inevitable.
The Spring was upon them once again as Guy invited Mikey over to his room for a quiet evening together. Mikey always seemed more aroused to be in Guy’s room for whatever reason. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Guy had fucked and pleasured so many people between those sheets of his. The large athlete was sitting propped up against the headboard, romantically caressing Mikey as he leant against his naked chest and watched a movie with him.
Watching movies was not usually Guy’s thing. He’d often been accused of having an attention difficulty in school, making him restless and troublesome in class, despite the high grades he always came away with. But here, with Mikey, Guy felt complete relaxation, rubbing that fat stomach that had been grown for him and laughing together at the funny parts of the picture.
“There’s actually a gainer event happening not too far away in a couple of months,” Mikey explained, scrolling through his cell phone.
“When is it?” Guy asked. “I can take you.”
Mikey mumbled nervously. “I’m not so sure it’s my thing…” he fretted. “I’d be too nervous.”
At this, Guy laughed. “Nervous? You?” He rubbed Mikey’s large stomach. The boy was now a full one hundred and twenty pounds heavier than he had been when the pair met over eighteen months ago, standing at a full two hundred and sixty pounds despite his fairly average height. He’d battled name-calling, family disapproval and public wardrobe malfunctions aplenty. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
Again, Mikey grumbled in disagreement.
Guy quickly did an internet search on his cell phone and found it himself. “There!” he declared a minute later, putting his cell phone back on the bed beside him. “Two tickets. One for me, and one for my lardass!” he teased, kissing Mikey on the back of his head and squeezing him once more. “I’lll book us a nice hotel later too.” Picking up a few modelling jobs had definitely helped make Guy’s life a little easier of late, and there was no one who deserved a treat more.
As the date approached, Mikey had gone into a frenzy of calorie consuming, determined to look the part for a gainer event. The boy was just a frustrating couple of pounds shy of three hundred when Guy took his chubby little hand and led him inside.
Guy had never seen so many huge men in the same room and they eyed him suspiciously until they saw that his hand was placed appreciatively on Mikey’s broad butt as they stood to the side of the dancefloor.
“There are still quite a few small guys,” Guy whispered to Mikey, who had been worried about not being fat enough for weeks. “A few dad bods with only a little gut to show for themselves.”
Mikey nodded, feeling better and more relaxed as others started coming up to them, wanting to know their story.
“That person’s been checking you out all night,” Guy nodded over at a slender and handsome man in the corner.
“No he hasn’t,” Mikey shot back.
“Trust me, when people aren’t checking me out, I notice,” Guy replied. “He’s definitely interested in you.”
Mikey smiled, rather flattered.
“Who knows, he might be open to a little…” Guy winked, having learned recently that Mikey had a small fantasy about having a threesome. Guy waved his arm and beckoned the man over to them, despite Mikey’s nervous protests.
The admirer introduced himself as Henry and he admitted to having attended plenty of these types of events in the last few years. “What’s your weight?” he asked Mikey; an outrageous question in any other circumstances but these.
Guy jumped in to answer. “He’s just hit three-twenty,” he lied. He was only one hundred and forty pounds two years ago.”
“That’s impressive!” Henry nodded, clearly more interested than ever.
“He’s been a high achiever his whole life,” Guy smiled, wrapping his strong large arm over Mikey’s shoulders with pride.
Henry wanted to know more about their situation and circumstances. Were they an item? Was it casual? Was Guy really a feeder? But when the time came to ask him if he wanted to come back to the hotel with them, Henry did not decline. They stopped for takeout on the way, with Henry very clearly getting off on how much Mikey was able to eat: being so assertive with the chub, clearly setting high expectations from the start. Then they all headed back, making every pleasurable second all about Mikey; just as he deserved.
At the end of another summer, Guy and Mikey embarked upon their final year of college. Mikey’s weight had continued to creep up, with his face now properly framed by a large double chin and his upper arms finally starting to puff up and broaden him up a bit.
“I actually met up with Henry a couple of times this summer,” Mikey explained casually as the pair of them lay awkwardly facing each other on the narrow single bed in Guy’s room.
Guy instantly felt ashamed of the giant wave of jealousy that washed over him. He’d slept with a countless number of people during their casual sex games of the last two years, yet he begrudged Mikey even this little thing in return. Still, he tried not to show his feelings, diligently asking questions and smiling encouragingly, as if this was all positive news.
“Henry really knows how to push me to eat,” Mikey went on. “I’ve never eaten as much in my life! And it was all the type of stuff that he knew would only make me fatter.”
Guy nodded, concealing the inadequacy he felt. He’d never really been what Mikey had wanted. He only knew the absolute basics of the feedism kink Mikey was so into and had, for the most part, got away without having to sit through many of the tedious feeding sessions Mikey seemed to enjoy so much. This whole affair with Mikey had started because Guy hadn’t wanted anyone to take the champion blow-job boy away from him, yet he had unknowingly opened the floodgates during that fairly average threesome he had been a part of back at the gainer event. “Are you meeting up with him again?” he asked casually.
“He’s coming here in December,” Mikey squeaked excitedly. “But he’s given me strict instructions to continue to eat and grow before then. I honestly think he wants me to be absolutely huge!”
Guy smiled back at him, despite the sadness he felt. Mikey was undoubtedly slipping away from him.
That December, Guy had been away with the football team during the weekend of Henry’s visit. Even so, Mikey’s weight had continued to increase at an almost alarming rate, both before and after the feeder had called over. It had been spurred on by the many messages and video calls the pair had made, despite the great geographical distance between them. Guy had so many other things on his mind, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him, but he was never fully successful. Mikey himself was now entirely unrecognisable, coated with giant amounts of fat all over his body. His frame had widened, with fat spilling out from his round gut and his nipples sagging right onto his swollen midsection. He walked slowly about the campus, usually carrying a backpack filled with fattening supplies from the nearby supermarket in order to further his weight gain. Likewise, Henry had begun ordering fast food to the dorms, increasing Mikey’s intake even more and ensuring that the boy had surpassed three hundred and eighty pounds by April.
Guy knew that he couldn’t get away with avoiding Henry a second time when he stopped by for an entire week that Spring, just before the final exam season got underway. The conversation was polite, but it was obvious that Henry wanted more time alone with Mikey, rather than having Guy tagging along.
“Let’s be real…” Henry stated at the end of the week, taking advantage of the fact that Mikey had gone to the bathroom at the restaurant he was treating the two of them to a meal at. “You’re not actually a feeder, are you?”
“What does that matter?” Guy shrugged. “I’ve done pretty well getting Mikey’s weight up. He would still be that skinny little twig if it wasn’t for me.”
Henry shook his head and laughed. “No he wouldn’t!” he replied dismissively. “Mikey is a fat boy, through and through! I’ve never come across anyone like him. If you hadn’t been there, he would have found some other excuse to start piling the pounds on. It’s just in him. He’s meant to be absolutely enormous.”
Guy didn’t have a response. In reality, he’d known as much from the very beginning. Mikey had never needed much encouragement to overeat, and he’d always seemed propelled to fatten by some force greater than a basic kinky subservience kink to Guy himself.
“I’m going to ask him to move with me to Phoenix when he finishes college next month,” Henry announced; his tone one of uncompromising assertiveness.
“Phoenix?” Guy gasped in alarm. “But I’ll never see him!”
“What the hell did you think he was going to do when he finished college? You’ve got a job lined up here in the city, but what is there for Mikey? He doesn’t have any family here. You really expected him to just hang around for you?”
Guy exhaled, knowing that they couldn’t carry the conversation on with the fattened Mikey trotting back towards the table. He ground his teeth together, wondering how best to fight this plan to uproot Mikey’s entire life and move him to Phoenix. But then he witnessed the boy’s delight the next day as Henry made the offer, and witnessed the tears days later as Henry had to leave him once more. It was over. Mikey had found the one he was really meant to be with.
“You’ll come and visit me, right?” Mikey asked as Guy dropped the last of Mikey’s stuff in the back of Henry’s truck a few weeks later.
“Of course I will,” Guy nodded, trying to hold back on how cut up he felt that his time with Mikey was now over. “Just you try and stop me!”
The pair hugged warmly.
Next, Henry came up and shook Guy’s hand. Despite the silent animosity between them, there was an air of respect. Henry had been right, after all. Mikey needed a lot more than Guy could give him. This was the life that the fat boy coveted and deserved. But Henry was no idiot either. He knew what Guy was giving up; that he had fallen in love with the boy, and that his love was not returned; at least, not in the same way.
“Come on, Fatso!” Henry smiled, patting Mikey on his wide, blubbery butt. “We’d best hit the road.”
Guy stood looking into the distance long after the truck went out of sight. One very massive chapter of his life had just ended, and another was about to begin.
#gainer fiction#gainer stories#gay feedee#gayfeeder#gainerstories#gainer story#gainerfic#gayfeedee#gainerstory#gainer fic
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👉👈 yandere serial killer...??? Maybe?? Like just this big scary dude with a mask and a big fuck all weapon like a butcher's knife or something and hes so big and scary but he sees his darling as he's just head over heels in love and obssessed and stalks them and makes sure they are safe.
Maybe leaves gifts as a way to try and court his darling even (trial and error style)
So like he leaves maybe a dead animal like a fucking cat cause he's this kinda survival guy and he's trying to provide food but darling is freaked out, so he tries again with something else maybe bones. Doesn't work. Tries to figure out what they like and tries again with their favorite flower or something.
Like he's out of touch with society cause again big serial killer who likely lives out in the woods, kills people who get to close to his home etc so he's really trying to win over his darling who lives closer to the town/city or something.
Just.... I just love big scary man who is so scary and mean but is ONLY nice and soft to his darling and tries to be so gentle, especially if his darling is much smaller than him.
No pressure if you dont wanna do this! Just!!! Giving out some ideas!
♡♡♡
♡Bunny
Yandere! Serial Killer
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A/N : thank you for requesting! I changed a few things if you don't mind💖 this is like an intro for him? I'll write more if people like this dude
T/W : Obsessive behaviour, murder, mentions of dead animal.
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"─yet another body has been discovered near a park at Heartfelt Avenue this morning. The police were alerted to the scene after a man who was walking his dog stumbled upon the deceased body covered with deep cuts that were shaped into a heart. This marks the twelfth victim of the serial killer, 'Lovelorn' that has left communities in fear──"
The news forecaster were cutted off as [Name] switch the television off. Their stomach churned with uneasiness at the reports of the new killing. With the serial killer still on the loose, god knows who'll be next?
It could be them.
It's a terrifying thought but a probable possibility. All of the bodies were found near their place of living, meaning that the killer is not far from their area. Moving away is not a choice for them, they could barely make enough money to stay afloat.
[Name] will have to put up with the murderous maniac's antics until they were caught and placed behind bars.
"Shit── I forgot I have to cover for Stacey today!" They cursed out, hurriedly changing into their horrendous work uniform.
Working a late shift at a cafe wasn't exactly their choice. [Name] usually worked the day shift── stressful but far better than being all alone at night when there's a lunatic who's going around stabbing people. Their coworker Stacey had an emergency today and had practically begged [Name] to cover for her shift as no one would take up on it.
[Name] don't blame them, no one in their right mind would voluntarily throw themselves in a situation where they would ended up in a news headline.
However, adulting is hard and it drains your sanity slowly and [Name] already lost theirs a long time ago. Plus, they really need more money otherwise they'll have to live off cup noodles.
What ever could go wrong? The killer had just slain a person today, they couldn't possibly attempt to do it again could they?
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Everything went wrong.
It had been mind numbingly boring shift, the cafe were deserted at night with only a few people coming in and getting out as soon as they got their drinks.
[Name] were tempted to just sleep through their shift in the break room. Their boss won't care──probably.
"Can't something interesting happens right now? I'm bored out of my mind──" On cue, the lights suddenly begun flickering before shutting off.
Fuck. They're not bored anymore.
[Name] jolted in their place when the main door slammed to a close and their heart stopping momentarily as they saw a figure running towards the backdoor entrance.
They raced towards the exit──there's no way they're going to investigate it! They value their life more than this store they worked at──and try to pry the door open but discovered to their horror that it has been jammed!
Before they could attempt to break the glass door with a steel chair, they heard a noise from their former place behind the counter. [Name] eyes widened in fear at the sight of the figure they'd seen running earlier.
The man was muscular and had a red horned mask on, in his hand was a large butcher knife that serial killers loves wielding. Had their life not being in danger, [Name] would've laughed at how cliché this situation they're in.
"H─hey buddy, that's a nice looking knife you got there" [Name] says as they held onto the steel chair tighter, ready to wield it as a weapon if needed to.
The killer only stalked further in silence, ignoring [Name]'s remarks. He only stopped once they reached a good distance from each other and [Name] were confused, is he fucking with them?
Their confusion only furthers when the killer drops a fucking dead rabbit in front of them. Horrified beyond belief, [Name] looked at the horned masked man who stared at them as if he's waiting for a praise.
"Wh──wha..?" They could only croaked out timidly.
"It's for you" The killer spoke in his deep voice, elaborating no further.
Their eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he dropped a human heart next to the dead rabbit. [Name] felt their knees weakened as they fell on the ground, disturbed at the sight before them.
Mustering whatever courage they have left within them, they asked the killer that's towering over them.
"Wha──what are these f──for?" Stumbling over their words from how terrified they were.
The killer, holding a flower in his hand──they looked freshly cut from the stem──lowered to their level of ground and spoke in his gravely voice that's strangely laced with a certain gentleness and love.
"M' courting you cause' I love you"
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
#tw: yandere#yandere#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#gender neutral reader#yandere male#yandere headcanons
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the last drop
summary: Work could be hard to find in the Undercity. Thankfully, you had found a job - at the Last Drop.
content: probably ooc silco, reader works at the last drop, silco saves you from a drunk dude, nothing too crazy, requested but not proofread! 1396 words
a/n: i have never written for silco before but he is one of my favorite characters! hope i did him justice wahaha!! i used 'jinx fixes everything' as a reference for the layout of the last dropw
⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
Work, especially work that is not... completely illegal, was hard to find in Zaun. Safe work, even less. But as someone who had grown up on the cold and harsh streets, you would take anything you could find. The Last Drop - last you had seen it, Vander owned it. It was the heart of the Undercity, the one warm place in the cold town. But Vander disappeared, and someone else took it over. Not as warm and inviting, but it was your best bet at a stable job.
The woman who interviewed you - if it could even be seen as an interview - only nodded, telling you to be there the day after at seven p.m. sharp. One minute later, and she would come find you.
Well, it was easy to say that you even turned up early. You did not want to know what would have happened if you hadn't. When you walked in to the empty bar, you saw another bartender.
"Hey," he looked up, throwing the towel on his shoulder, "You're the new bartender?"
"Starting today," you nervously said, pulling at your shirt.
"Cool," he nodded, "I'm Thieram. I'll help you your first few shifts."
Working with Thieram was fun. He was familiar with all the people who came into the bar, telling you funny stories of what they did while drunk and betting on who would be the most drunk that night. He even went to split up a fight that had broken out. Even though you had worked here for a little over a month now, you had yet to see the big boss.
The lady who interviewed you, Sevika, frequently sat at the booth hidden in the corner. In front of her always sat a glass or bottle of booze, depending on how her day went, together with some playing cards and a cigarette. Today, however, the bar was completely empty.
Either it was because there was finally a bit of sunshine in Zaun, or maybe a natural disaster was heading your way without you knowing. Even Thieram wasn't at work - something about 'another job needing to be done'. It left you alone with only one drunk man in the far corner of the bar. Only you, the drunk man, and a bucket of water.
If there was nothing else to do, then you could just clean. Though you truly care about Thieram, you could tell that deep cleaning wasn't his strongest suit. You had finally rid the ceiling of spiderwebs with the help of a chair, a stick, and a rag that was nearly falling apart. Sweeping the floor, wiping the tables, and lastly, cleaning up behind the bar.
Every bottle got neatly placed in their spots and the wood was nearly shining now that all the dirt and grime was wiped off of it. The pipes above your head had no more dust on them and even the lightbulbs were now clean.
As you were about to throw your towel down, you heard footsteps on the stairs. You never went up those - you knew Silco had his office up there. There was simply no need for you to be even near it.
Were you supposed to look him in the eye? Maybe not. Maybe you shouldn't even speak until he spoke to you. But it would be rude to not acknowledge him at all, too. You had no time to go over your options as you heard one of the bar chairs scratching against the floor.
There sat Silco.
The two of you looked at each other in silence for a moment. You, terrified. Him, almost curious.
"You are the new barmaid."
Not even a question.
He knew the answer. Sevika had told him about a handful of people coming to find a job, but she thought you the most capable one. Not addicted to Shimmer, seemingly healthy enough, and Thieram told her you were good at your job.
"I am, sir."
He only lowly hummed as you turned to grab a glass and the bottle of alcohol that was meant for Silco. Thieram made sure to remind you where it was multiple times - only the boss could have this. Unless he said the opposite, he would always get a glass poured for him. So, you did.
You carefully put it in front of the man, not sure if you should say anything. He didn't seem like someone who really did any small talk anyway.
"Did Thieram put you up to this?"
"Up to what, sir?"
He shook his head.
"It's Silco," he lit his cigar, raising the glass to his lips, "And the cleaning."
"No, si-Silco," you corrected yourself, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, "Wasn't sure what else to do, so I thought that I might as well."
It was hard to read him. All he did was hum in response, downing the rest of the gold liquid before disappearing back upstairs again.
Two weeks had passed, and thankfully, Thieram was back. The pub was packed - inside people were nearly sitting on top of one another, and the crowd even went on outside of the bar. You heard laughter, talking, screaming, a bang every so often. Sevika, back in her usual spot, just kept an eye out. As you glanced over, you saw her glass nearly empty.
Sevika and you weren't... friends. No one in the Undercity necessarily had friends. But you were both... friendly, at least. If no curse words or glares was considered friendly. What you had learned was that she liked to have her glass full, so you grabbed her usual bottle, stepping past some drunk guys before standing next to Sevika.
No words were exchanged as you filled up her cup, wiping away some spills as she nodded in response. More than enough, you thought. With a slight smile, you twisted the cap back on the bottle, turning to walk back to the bar.
Halfway through, though, your path was blocked. The group of drunks, the jugs in their hands nearly empty. You knew that these weren't their first ones, either. You took a deep breath, trying to squeeze past them, but it was simply impossible.
"Ah, look here," one of the men coughed, grinning weirdly, "The new barmaid!"
"Yes, and the new barmaid would like it if she could go by," you mumbled, the glass bottle in your hands.
The men looked at each other before loudly erupting into laughter. One jokingly wiped his non-existent tears away, shaking his head.
"Why? We not fun enough for ya?"
"Yeah, come on," the one in the middle leaned over, his face uncomfortably close to yours, "We're good guys, I swear."
"If you were, then you would let me pass."
He whistled, circling you as he now stood behind. There was still no way of getting through though - his friends just moved closer together, blocking your exit.
"Big mouth for a barmaid," he grumbled, "Maybe someone should teach you to shut up."
"You think so?"
A voice, raspy and low, accompanied by the smell of cigars. You slowly turned your gaze away from the terrifying man in front of you, your eyes falling on Silco. The man was hard to miss, but what was even harder to miss was the shining pistol he held in his hand, aimed at the man who had been bothering you.
"What?" He raised an eyebrow, cocking the gun, "At a loss for words?"
The man and his friends didn't say anything, the glasses in their hands shaking as they nervously looked at Silco. He just rolled his eyes in annoyance, pressing the gun against the man his temple before gesturing to the door.
"Get out."
You nearly let out a relieved sigh, holding the bottle close to your chest as you looked back at the ground. You felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn your head. Silco looked down at you for a moment before pushing the gun back into the holster.
"They will not bother you anymore."
He glanced at Sevika who downed her glass in return, wiping her mouth before nodding at the redhead next to her, both walking out of the bar. They could handle it.
"Thank you, Silco."
"No need to thank me," he glanced at the bar, seeing Thieram busy with all the other customers, "A drink will do."
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SNSD Village
Season 1 Episode 1 :
Pilot
(Tiffany Hwang X Male Reader)
You drop your bag in the green chair, before sitting down on the white couch.
“Sorry I’m late, Jisoo. Ms. Park wouldn’t let us go.”
Jisoo looks up from her laptop.
“Hey, I’m just glad you’re helping me out.”
She gives you a thankful smile.
“Don’t mention it. How much have you written so far?”
You slowly settle in as you take your keys out of the back pocket of your jeans and place them on the table.
Your phone joins them. It’s a hot summer day and the screen has some of your sweat on it. But the cool air of the small cafe turns the outside heat into a distant memory.
“Not very far, to be honest.”
Jisoo sighs, before sliding the laptop over the wooden surface.
“Since they're looking for someone who has experience in their field, I mentioned that I’m currently working here.”
You nod your head in agreement as you start reading her job application.
“You could also mention you’re looking after my little sister.”
As you start writing, Jisoo interrupts.
“But that doesn’t have much to do with this receptionist job.”
You look to your left.
“Why not? It’s a way of saying, you can handle difficult people.”
“Oh, please.”
She playfully hits your shoulder.
“Seri isn’t difficult.”
“Oh, trust me. She is.”
“She is four. Plus, Mrs. Seo would kill us both, if she heard how I let you speak about her daughter.”
“You’re right. Mom would kill us.”
You both share a laugh in agreement.
At that moment, your phone lights up. You check who texted you before the screen turns dark again. Your friend, Seogun. Something about a video.
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
You put your phone back into your pocket.
“Let’s finish this first.”
Jisoo smiles at you as she pulls the laptop back in front of herself.
“I really appreciate this.”
Just as you are about to touch up Jisoo’s resume, you hear a familiar voice.
“Hi there, young man. How was school today?”
“Hello, Mrs. Kwon:”
Your lips return the genuine smile the owner of the cafe shoots your way.
“It was alright. Ms. Park’s class sucked. As always. Especially when she found out that a lot of people didn’t do their homework. Eunha should start writing stuff down. She always forgets we have homework.”
“Oh, yes. Ms. Park was never my daughter’s favorite teacher either. Poor Eunha though. Her mother is always putting so much pressure on her. But she will grow up eventually.”
Mrs. Kwon is right. Your classmate Eunha is a good student. It’s just that she is also quite clumsy and forgetful.
She sends another smile your way. Only now do you notice that she is holding two bowls of ice cream.
“Enjoy yourselves. It’s on the house.”
She places them in front of the two of you.
“Thank you, Mrs. Kwon.”
You and Jisoo say in union, which makes the older woman’s smile grow bigger.
“I’m sad to see you leave, Jisoo. I really enjoyed having you here.”
"I liked working here a lot.”
“You know, Eunbi is currently doing her gap year. Maybe she can help you find something new?”
“I appreciate your help, Mrs. Kwon. It means a lot to me.”
The older woman waves it off.
“Don’t mention it.”
You see someone at the table outside raising her arm, signaling her that she is ready to order.
“Eat up.”
Ms. Kwon motions towards the sundaes, before walking outside. Jisoo is eating hers as you feel the vibration of your phone inside your pocket. Now you do check what Seogun sent you. You quickly put the phone back into your pocket.
“I-I’m gonna be back in a minute.”
“Sure.”
The message fills you with excitement. You knew it. You knew she had one.
You lock the door behind you, after entering the small restroom. You sit down on the lid of the closed toilet. The turquoise fabric of the cushion on the lid matches the interior of the cafe. Pulling out your phone, you quickly open your chat with Seogun again.
Dude I found her!!!
Check this out
she is so fucking hot, cant belive it
her links
onlyfans.com/tiffany
insta: your_tiffany
After making sure the volume of your phone is on the lowest setting, you press play on the video he sent you. As the buffering cycle appears, you check out the title. “Trying out my new toy. Enjoy!”
When the video starts playing, you can’t believe your eyes. It’s actually Ms. Hwang. You recognize her surroundings instantly. The beach. That spot is barely five minutes away from the cafe.
“Hi there, cutie.”
You focus on Ms. Hwang, who is kneeling on a large blanket. Her short pants and her top look so sexy on her. You saw her wear this outfit once or twice before. Just looking at her like this makes you unbutton your jeans. As Ms Hwang waves into the camera, your pants are already sliding down your legs.
“This is a thank you to the person who sent me this.”
You watch her reach behind herself. Her hand reappears, holding a big dildo. You can’t tell how long it is exactly. The bottom is flat, so your classmate’s mother is able to place it on the towel.
“Let’s see what this bad boy does to me.”
With a flirtatious smile, she starts to strip. Your eyes are glued to your screen as Ms. Hwang's top lands on the towel. She was wearing nothing underneath. You can’t believe you’re seeing Yeji’s mother topless; she would die of embarrassment if she knew.
You start to rub your cock over your boxers as you watch her playing with her breasts. They are slightly smaller than you thought they would be. Trying to take in every detail, you watch how one of her hands slowly glides over her tummy. You start to take your boxers off as Ms.Hwang rubs herself over her shorts. The erotic hum she produces gives you goosebumps. You’ve watched porn before. You even had a girlfriend. But this is different. She is someone you know. You even saw her yesterday. You said hello. And there she is. On her knees. Slowly taking off her denim shorts.
By now, your boxers have joined your jeans around ýour ankles. You slowly stroke yourself to your classmate’s mother stripping. You’ve fantasized about her more than just once. It happened more frequently, after you picked up a small part of Ms. Im’s conversation with her. It made you and your friend look for exactly this.
Once Ms. Hwang's Shorts are off, your eyes wander up her full thighs. Her smooth skin almost seems to glow in the light of the rising sun. Your eyes finally reach her core. You take in her beautiful pussy, which is slightly glistening with arousal. You remember how your ex girlfriend looked when she was naked. This is something different. Ms. Hwang looks sexier, more mature.
“I’m so wet already.”
She gives the camera a mischievous smile as she lets her fingers run along her folds. Your classmate’s mother reaches for the plastic dildo next to her.
“Thank you so much for this.”
She gives you a wink. You watch how two of her fingers, which were running along her folds, are now slipping inside of her. Ms. Hwang closes her eyes. As she slowly fingers herself, she starts to stroke the dildo. Unconsciously you match her pace and rhythm. It almost seems like she is actually working your cock. It feels better than usual. More real.
When Yeji’s mother lifts the dildo off the towel, you can only stare. Her lips close around the pink tip. You stroke yourself faster as her cheeks hollow. Ms. Hwang starts to actually suck the pink dildo, which barely fits into her mouth. She keeps fingering herself at the same time, her hips slightly bucking towards her hand.
“I’ve been so horny since I got this.”
She just pulled the plastic out of her mouth. A smile on her face.
“You guys know how much I like a nice cock.”
Ms. Hwang places the dildo right in front of herself, her fingers slipping out of her pussy. You see them glistening with her juices.
You watch her raise her hips as she sends another seductive look in the direction of the camera. The tip of the dildo parts her pussy lips as she moves forward a little. Yeji’s mother bites her lip. You feel a familiar feeling rising in your stomach. You imagine that you are there on the beach. With Ms. Hwang. You stroke yourself faster, envisioning that you’re lying underneath her. That it’s your tip that penetrates her pussy. That it’s your cock she slowly impales herself on.
Your breathing becomes faster as you’re just about to climax. You watch Ms.Hwang slowly moving up and down. Her pussy lips glide along the shaft. Her moans make you groan. Your toes curl. Another moan from her. Another groan from you.
“When are you gonna be back?”
You ask, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
“I don’t know. An hour?"
“Alright. Drive safe.”
Jisoo smiles back at you, before getting into her car. Well, not her car. More like your mother’s company’s car. If Jisoo had enough money to buy herself a car, she wouldn’t need to take care of your sister.
You watch her drive off. As soon as she is out of sight, you start running. 60 minutes. That should be more than enough. An evil smile appears on your face as you jump over the small white fence of your mother’s garden. It barely reaches your knee. You are going to make Yeji pay. The two of you have been at each other's throats since you both can remember. But today, you will finally come out on top.
You quickly unlock the terrace door. Run through the big living room. Speed up the stairs. Barge into your room. Let your bag fall on the ground next to the door and quickly sit down on your chair.
You open your phone again. You open your and Seogun’s chat. After a glance at the thumbnail of the video you watched earlier, you click on the first link. Ms.Hwang’s Onlyfans page appears. You quickly scroll through her profile.
Hi, sweetie! Subscribe now and get 10% off! I will send you a sexy welcome pic!
That video alone would make you win your fight over Yeji. And with that promised picture, Yeji would probably never dare to speak up against you ever again. Your thumb hovers over the blue subscribe button. Just when you’re about to hit it, you remember that your mom sometimes checks your bank account. She caught you buying alcohol before, despite not being 21 yet. She almost killed you. If she finds out you are paying someone for porn… Especially someone you and her both personally know…A shiver runs down your spine. No. You can’t risk it. This isn’t worth it. Your mother can be scary as hell.
You get off Ms. Hwang's Onlyfans page and click on her Instagram link. Her Instagram Bio is the same as the one on her Onlyfans. You quickly skim through her reels and select a random one. It starts with Ms. Hwang gasping, her mouth wide open as she pretends to look down.
“Oh my gosh! You're huge!”
You start rubbing your cock through your jeans. You can’t help it. Yeji’s mom is just so fucking hot.
“You didn’t tell me you are this big.”
Ms. Hwang bites her lip, while smiling into the camera.
“I’m not sure it’s gonna fit.”
“Fuck it.”
You curse, stripping yourself off your pants and underwear. As you keep scrolling through all her recent reels, you stroke your cock. Every reel makes Ms. Hwang look like a slut. In one, she pretends to pick something up while bending over. You can clearly see under her skirt. In another one, she has tight yoga pants on. You don’t even pay attention to what she is saying, your eyes are glued to her cameltoe.
A couple of minutes later, you are fully dressed again. You can’t believe you just came twice within two hours to videos of Yeji’s mother. Having just watched most of her recent reels, you now check out some of her pictures. You do recognize some of those outfits, but others are new to you.
Scrolling back to the top of her page, your eyes get caught up on one of her most recent pics. Ms. Hwang is kneeling on the floor, only wearing a set of blue lingerie. Your heart beats faster when you read the caption.
Looking for someone near my place to shoot some content with. Send me a DM if you’re down for some fun.
You hesitate after reading it a couple of times. It sounds too good to be true. It could very well be a scam, so she can tempt more people to subscribe to her Onlyfans. Would it be worth a shot? Why not? You don’t have anything to lose. You click on the message button. What to write her though? You can’t tell her it’s you. She would probably say no immediately. That thought makes you realize that you’re using your personal account.
You quickly make a new one and search for Ms. Hwang again. Now that you’re all set, the opener continues to be a major problem. You can’t just say hi, can you? You have to be smart about this. Do you want to be funny? Do you just text her that you saw her invite to shoot some content? What do you call her even?
After a couple of minutes, you finally decide on a simple text.
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You stare at the screen for a while. You are nervous. Excited. But when Ms. Hwang doesn’t text back immediately, you lean back in your chair. What did you expect? The chance of her actually responding is very slim. She wouldn’t text you back within a couple of minutes.
You dry yourself off with a towel. It’s 11 pm now. Throughout the entirety of your workout, you kept thinking about Ms. Hwang. The chance to actually sleep with her. To record it. Show it to Yeji. It was wishful thinking, but still...
Taking your gym bag out of your locker, you start to get dressed. You usually jog home from the gym, since it only takes thirty minutes and it’s a great way to build up your stamina. But it’s already late and your mom offered to pick you up on her way home. She seems to always be at the company, since your dad died. Is it just because of the huge amount of work, or is it her way to cope with the loss of your father?
After stepping out of the gym, you lean against the outer wall, waiting for her to arrive. You haven’t been working out for a long time yet. You always liked gym class, but you never bothered with actually trying to improve your physique. But you haven’t gotten over your ex-girlfriend yet. As much as you hate to admit it, she might have been the one. Trying to get your mind off her, you started working out about three weeks ago.
After taking your phone out of your black sweatpants, you see a message from your mother.
Grabbed something to eat for the two of us. I will be there in 10.
You quickly skim through your class’s Discord. Someone mentioned something about a party this weekend. As you scroll through the messages, you see that it’s Eunha, who invited everyone. Seems like her mom is out of town over the weekend. As you take your earbuds out of your pocket, your phone vibrates.
You almost let it fall. She actually replied! With shaky fingers, you quickly open Instagram and there your messages.
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“Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Your shout bounces off the wall of the gym you were leaning on.
This is unbelievable. It’s your chance. Your chance to-
You pause, already halfway done with your response. No. You can’t message her back immediately. Maybe wait a couple of minutes. But then, your eyes catch the green circle next to her profile. Fuck. She knows you’re online too. Now you have to respond. Something cool. As if you weren’t waiting for her reply for hours.
Seems to be your lucky day. I live close by.
You read it a couple of times, before sending it. You know it sounds a little overconfident, but maybe it works. Ms. Hwang probably got hundreds of messages, so why not try and leave an impression?
Fantastic
Two questions
Are you fine with your body being filmed?
How big are you? You know what I mean
The wink emoji at the end makes a shiver run down your spine. You’re almost there. So close to finally having sex with a woman, who has been your “inspiration” more often than you can count.
I’m cool with that
Why don’t we make that a surprise?
You take a deep breath before you send it. She might take it the wrong way. But hopefully, this gets you through the door.
I do like surprises…
But I do need to know a general direction
Send a pic?
You rub your teeth over your lower lip as you think. You’ve never taken a picture like this one before. Because no one ever asked you to send you one. But Ms. Hwang just did! You’re just about to go back inside, when you see a pair of lights illuminate the parking lot. Your mom is here.
I’m in public right now
I’ll get you one once I’m home
I might need some inspiration to show you what I’ve got
Your wink emoji makes you shake your head. For someone else, this conversation might look borderline weird. But the tingle inside your stomach doesn’t subside, even when your mom’s car stops right in front of you.
“Hi, sweetie.”
"Hey, mom.”
You smile at her, before getting inside and fastening your seatbelt.
“How was your day?”
“Oh, you know. A lot of work, as always. How was school?”
“School is school.”
Your reply makes her chuckle as she gets back on the road.
“Did Ms. Park torture your class again?”
“You know how she is, mom.”
You sigh, getting comfortable in the warm car. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. But you’re too scared to check. What if Ms. Hwang actually sent you something?
“What did you get by the way?”
“Chicken.”
She points behind herself, eyes still focused on the dark road ahead. You look at the backseat behind her, a grin on your face.
“You're great, mom.”
You take two stairs at once, after you enter the house.
“Be quick, I’m hungry.”
“Just five minutes!”
You close your door.
Your gym bag joins your bag for school on the ground. Opening your phone, you immediately see that Ms. Hwang sent you a picture.
“This actually worked?”
You sit down in your chair again as you open your chat with her.
“Oh fuck.”
You can’t hide your pleasant surprise.
Ms. Hwang, sent you a hot selfie. Her white top is bunched up above her breasts, no bra in sight. She smiles at the camera, at you, as she winks.
You might not even need five minutes. Your sweatpants and boxers are gone within seconds. As you start to stroke yourself, you take in Ms. Hwang’s surroundings. You recognize her open kitchen in the background. You’ve been to her house before, together with one of your closer friends. Your eyes narrow as you spot someone standing in the kitchen. Her face is turned away from the camera, but you recognize her immediately. You see her in class everyday.
The thought of Ms. Hwang sending you a selfie of herself almost half naked, really makes you hard. You are so focused on her tits, you almost forget why she sent you the picture in the first place.
You have to force yourself to stop. Getting off the chair, you sit down on the edge of your bed, facing the mirror. You take a couple of pictures of yourself, while making sure your head isn’t in the frame.
After taking a sip of your cold water, you glance at the TV. You’re sitting on a barstool at the kitchen counter, while your mom is watching a drama. Her long elegant dress got replaced by a pair of shorts and a white tank top, while you were busy upstairs.
“You don’t want to watch this with me?”
“No thanks, mom. Not into romance stuff.”
You take a bite of your chicken, while you hear her laugh.
“Trust me. One day you’ll like it. You’re not old enough to appreciate this yet.”
“Sure mom.”
Your phone vibrates again. You were afraid that the picture was bad. Or worse, that Ms. Hwang didn’t like what she saw. You quickly check what she sent you.
Look how wet you made me
The picture she sent along with the text almost makes you drop your phone. It's a close up shot of her pussy. Two of her fingers spread her lips apart, revealing the lower part of her clit, while showing off how wet she is. Her glistening folds instantly make you hard. You can see the inner part of her walls. The pink flesh drenched in her arousal.
What are you supposed to say now? You can’t just ask, when she wants you to come over. You need to keep this conversation going. Maybe you haven’t convinced her fully yet.
You chug down the rest of your water, before focusing on what to text her next.
You’re dripping Tiffany
I want to know what you taste like
It feels unfamiliar to you to address her with her first name. You always call her Ms. Hwang. But it’d be weird to call her that now.
And I can’t wait to feel your tongue
I need you to eat my pussy so bad right now
“What are you up to, oppa?”
“Nothing important.”
You quickly turn off your phone, before you look up.
One of your classmates is looking down on you, while you sit in your seat.
“Did you catch what Ms. Kim just gave us for homework?”
“Eunha…”
You sigh, still very aware that she almost caught you. You’ve been texting with Ms. Hwang - sorry, Tiffany - for two days now. Eunha just interrupted you, while you were about to reply to one of her messages.
“Oh, please. I didn’t pay attention.”
“That’s not news to me.”
Before you can react, Eunha has already straddled your lap.
“What-?”
You instinctively take a hold of her thighs. You feel how full and smooth they are. And you realize your fingers are partially underneath her skirt.
"Please? I’m begging you.”
Eunha does her best to look cute. She always does. That’s her charm. And that’s also why she gets away with pretty much everything.
You hesitate for a moment. Eunha needs to learn it the hard way at some point. But you can’t resist her either. Those cute cheeks, her lips which are pouting at you, her dark eyes pleading you to tell her.
“We’re supposed to write a two page essay about the Roman gods.”
Ms. Kim is your history teacher. And currently she is focusing on ancient societies to show the evolution of human society and democracy.
“Is there any way…?”
“No, Eunha. I’m not gonna write it for you.”
“That’s not what I was gonna ask.”
She pouts at you again. You’re still very aware that she is sitting in your lap. And that you’re holding her thighs. But most of the class is outside during this nice warm weather. Plus, Eunha is known to be almost a little too comfortable with skinship. No matter with whom.
“I was gonna ask, if you could… you know… read through it before Wednesday?”
At least she remembers that Ms. Kim likes to randomly collect some student’s homework.
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
“Thanks, oppa!”
Eunha suddenly kisses your cheek and jumps off your lap. Only now do you realize how short her skirt actually is. You can almost see a hint of her ass. It’s probably not compliant with the school dress code, but that’s not unusual. All the kids at school have decently rich parents. They couldn’t care less about the school’s rules.
It’s embarrassing to say, but you can’t keep your eyes off Eunha’s thighs. Until you hear someone from behind you.
“Oppa.”
You turn around to see one of your closest friends standing behind your seat.
“Yes, Minju?”
The girl pouts at you and you could’ve sworn you see a glint of anger in her eyes. But they soften, once they focus back on you. Who was she looking at?
“Would you…Would you mind, if we write the essay together? You’re the best at history. Well, except for her.”
Minju nods towards the older girl, who is sitting in the front row.
“It’s also the only subject I’m good at.”
“You are not doing that bad.”
“Then where are my good grades?”
“I can help you. If you help me. Please?”
“Ok, Minju. What about…..Sunday?”
“Sunday sounds great.”
Minju gives you a bright smile.
You check your phone once she has walked away. After finishing your reply, you finally send it.
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Looking up from your phone, you see Yeji enter the classroom. She and Minju seem to be talking about something funny. As always, your anger starts to build up, whenever you see her. If only she’d know. If only Yeji knew what you’re planning on doing on Saturday. How you talked to her mother. Yeji would probably kill you. But that’s exactly what you want. Yeji has been annoying you for far too long. And you will finish this war between the two of you. Once and for all.
At exactly that moment, Yeji turns in your direction. She rolls her eyes and gives you a weird grimace. Like she always does, when your eyes meet. You groan in annoyance. Soon…
You picked this time, because you know that Yeji and Minju are downtown for most of the day. Minju said something about going shopping and trying out a new restaurant. After hesitating for a moment, you press the doorbell. You hear it ring. You step from one foot on the other, while you wait for her. You’re nervous. You know her. You’ve known her for years. You’ve dreamed about-
The door opens. Tiffany stands in front of you.
You are able to witness the different emotions that wash through her as she looks at you. First, it’s more of a seductive smile, then surprise, confusion, realization and finally shock. Her mouth is opened as if she is about to scream.
“W-What are you doing here?”
“You were looking for someone to shoot content with.”
You try to stay relaxed as if this is completely normal. Tiffany could still send you away. You doubt she would tell your mother, but it'd be awkward between you and Tiffany nonetheless.
“H-How do you even-How do you even know, I have-?”
Her shocked face turns into a worried one as the volume of her voice rises.
“I found your Instagram by accident.”
Tiffany is about to answer, when you hear a car drive past behind you.
“Go inside, before anyone…”
She sighs and you slip past her.
Once Tiffany has closed the door behind you, she gives you an angry glare.
“What do you think you’re doing? You’re way too young to even think about this! And you’re Yeji’s friend! Are you out of your mind?”
It seems like Tiffany has finally overcome her initial shock. You don’t bother to mention that you and Yeji are sworn enemies.
“I’m old enough Tif-”
Her stare makes you change your mind.
“Ms. Hwang. I’ve done this before. I’m not a virgin.”
She gives you a skeptical look.
“And this is also an opportunity for you.”
You add quickly. You thought about how to convince her on your way over, in case she would say no.
“An opportunity? For what? You’re Ms. Seo’s son for god's sake.”
“So what? My mother doesn’t have anything to do with this. And-”
“But I know her! I know you. I can’t sleep around with my neighbor's son!”
“Why not? I won’t tell anyone. And you said that you’d love to fuck me. You want me to show you-”
You reach for your phone in your pocket.
Tiffany shakes her head. Her cheeks are red in embarrassment. She can’t believe this is actually happening. How did Seohyun’s son find out about her? There is no way he is actually into her. He is the same age as her daughter.
“Even if you weren’t her son, you are still way too young. You’re barely half my age.”
“That's what I said earlier. This is an opportunity for you.”
“Opportunity? To do what? You're nuts!”
Tiffany storms off, into her living room. You follow after her. You know you're being a little clingy, but this kind of opportunity might never come again.
“The opportunity to shoot a different kind of content. You know, since I'm younger.”
Yeji's mother turns around and raises her eyebrow.
“Since you're younger? What do you think is good about that? All young boys think like you.”
Tiffany steps towards you again, her hands on her waist. You can tell she is still fuming.
“Do you think you have a great…”
Tiffany does a vague gesture towards your crotch.
“Or do you think you already have experience? Or that you have better stamina than older guys?”
“Yeah, but that’s not my point.”
Tiffany rolls her eyes.
“I don’t even want to hear it. Would you please leave now?”
She gestures towards the front door.
“At least hear me out. You do want more subscribers and eventually earn more money, don’t you?”
Tiffany is already reaching for the door again, when she turns around.
“I’m listening.”
She crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“Well…”
You hesitate for a second. This might come off the wrong way. But by the looks of it, it’s probably your last shot.
“Well, I’m younger than you. That’s true. But you’re also, like you said, twice my age.”
“So? What’s your point? Are you trying to make me feel old now too?”
Tiffany leaves you standing and heads towards her kitchen. You’re walking after her, slightly annoyed that she can’t stand still. While she takes a half opened bottle of wine out of the fridge, you look at her from behind. Her backside makes you lose focus for a moment. Her jeans and her slightly bent over figure makes you hard in excitement. You’re so close. Don’t mess this up.
Tiffany takes out a wine glass and starts pouring herself some whine.
“I’m trying to tell you, you’re a… Well, people my age would call you milf.”
You see her furrowing her brows.
“That doesn’t sound like something nice. And it seems to me like you shouldn’t be saying that to me.”
She looks at you again, while taking a sip from the red wine.
“Well, it means… Mom I like to fuck.”
You hear her choke on the whine she was just about to swallow.
“Excuse you?!”
“What? It’s true. The fact that I’m younger doesn’t mean I don’t find you sexy.”
“You think I’m sexy?”
The disbelief in her voice goes well with her raised eyebrow.
“Yes, I do.”
You can feel that Tiffany isn’t as disgusted at the thought of sleeping with you as before. You can still turn this around.
“Do you know how often I thought about you while….”
You let the sentence linger in the air and Tiffany seems to catch on.
“Oh, please.”
She scoffs.
“You’re trying to impress me by telling me you jerked off to me once or twice?”
You shake your head.
“More than once or twice. Several times a day, since I’ve found your Instagram.”
“Well…”
You finally seem to have made her speechless.
“And I’m not the only one who thinks you’re hot. I’ve heard more than just a couple of boys talk about you.”
“Oh, really?”
Tiffany raises an eyebrow again, before drinking some wine again. She seems more curious than angry now.
“Yes. That’s why this is such a great opportunity for you. I’m the same age as the boys who want to sleep with you. If we include this theme, of you with a way younger guy, in some of your content, those boys might be more interested in watching your stuff.”
Tiffany has finished her drink by now.
“You mean, appeal to younger people because they can identify with you more?”
“Exactly. There are a couple of great themes or roleplay ideas, which would really draw them in.”
You can almost see how the wheels turn inside her head.
Tiffany sighs as she places the empty glass on the counter.
"Alright. Fine.”
You feel goosebumps form on your skin, when she finally agrees.
“But today is only a test. If you mess up, or this doesn’t work, like you said it would, we are done.”
You quickly nod your head. You can’t believe it. You actually convinced her to have sex with you. On camera. Yeji’s mother. Tiffany Hwang.
She pulls a black hairband off her wrist, which you only notice now. After silently tying her hair in a high ponytail, Tiffany sinks to her knees. Right in front of you. You almost forget to breathe.
“Consider this an audition.”
Her eyes wander from your face to your crotch.
You bite your lip as you feel Tiffany’s hands undo your belt and your jeans. They quickly land around your ankles as she slowly lets a finger trace the outlines of your clothed and hard cock.
“Now I’m actually curious, if you were telling the truth about this.”
Tiffany hooks her fingers underneath the waistband of your boxers and pulls them down.
“Not bad at all.”
She smiles as your cock appears right in front of her face.
Tiffany slowly wraps her hand around it and strokes your length once. From the tip to the base.
“I could definitely work with this.”
Tiffany slowly moves her head closer and gives your tip a kiss.
You almost let out a groan already. You can’t believe that she is actually kneeling in front of you. With her hand around your cock and her lips on your tip.
She opens her mouth a little wider and moves down. You feel her lips glide along the length of your cock. Tiffany almost reaches your base, before she retreats again. Her hand around your cock starts stroking the parts of your cock that just left her mouth. Once she finally reaches your tip again, Tiffany gives it another kiss. This one is sloppier. But when she looks up at you, she furrows her brows.
“Why aren’t you recording?”
You’re stunned. The feeling of her lips around your cock has made you unable to move. Tiffany rolls her eyes and motions towards the counter, where she put her phone earlier.
After picking it up, you enter the pin she told you and open the camera. You hit the record button as Tiffany resumes her blowjob. Making sure she is in the frame, you watch her through the phone. But it just doesn’t really compare to the real thing. Now that you got a taste of it, you can’t help yourself.
You have to hold in a deep breath, as you lower her phone a little. Now you can see her better. Tiffany keeps stroking the lower half of your cock, while her mouth works the upper part. The camera can’t catch it, but you feel how her tongue presses against the underside of your shaft. She slowly covers your whole cock in her spit as she starts to make lewd sounds. The vibrations from her mouth are being sent through your cock, into your body and up your spine. Your whole body can feel how Tiffany sucks you off.
When she lifts her head a little further, Tiffany lets your cock fall out of her mouth. Now that the camera can see your whole cock for the first time, you’re a little embarrassed. You are aware that other people will see this. For a moment, you think they could make fun of you, but Tiffany quickly destroys that thought.
“Wow. Your cock tastes so good.”
She smiles up into the camera, before giving your tip another kiss.
“I really like it.”
A wink into the camera and Tiffany resumes her blowjob. You realize too late that she has picked up the pace. You almost drop her phone, when you see her head bob up and down. Her lips glide over your shaft way faster now. Her hand moves quicker too. Tiffany is starting to take more of your cock into her mouth.
Now that her head is moving further forward, everytime she gets deeper onto your cock, you can see a hint of her ass again. The blue jeans she is wearing is hugging her cheeks tightly. You move her phone a little forward and capture more of her ass.
As Tiffany’s blowjob continues, you start to get more into being her cameraman. While your main focus is still not to cum too fast, you’re now trying out some new camera angles. When Tiffany moves back a little, and only your tip remains inside her mouth, you move the phone on the same height as her face to her left. You’re now filming her side profile. Tiffany seems to know what to do. She looks up at you, her eyes now sparkling with amusement and lust. She slowly moves her lips along your cock once more, making sure the camera captures the exact way her mouth slowly takes in your length. After a couple back and forths, you reposition her phone again. It’s now looking from your perspective down at her, just like at the beginning.
You focus more on not just suddenly blowing your load inside her mouth. Because you’re now feeling a familiar pull inside your stomach. The way her mouth and hand work your shaft makes you experience something new. Your ex was never this good. You can tell that Tiffany has done this more than just once.
After leaning back again, Tiffany smiles into the camera. She stops stroking you and places a finger two or three inches above your base.
“I just got up to here. Do you think I can manage to go all the way?”
You hesitate for a second, before slowly making the camera nod.
Tiffany laughs.
“Let’s see if I can take it all.”
With another seductive smile on her face, Tiffany takes you into her mouth once more. You brace yourself for what’s to come next. The feeling of her lips gliding down your shaft once more makes you shiver in excitement. You still can’t believe she is actually doing this to you.
When Tiffany reaches her finger, she looks at the camera again. A wink and she removes her finger. You have to stop yourself from cursing as you feel her take more than before. Your tip grazes something deep inside her mouth and Tiffany stops for a second. She still has around one inch to go. You feel how she opens her mouth a little wider. How your tip slowly moves down. You are suddenly aware that you’re now inside her throat. Tiffany pushes her head further onto your cock and you hear her cough. Your whole cock has finally disappeared inside her mouth and throat.
You can feel how the muscles of her throat tighten around you. And you can also feel your incoming orgasm. You try to count in your head, not wanting to cum already. But Tiffany deepthroating your cock, doesn’t help at all. You make it to 12, when you feel yourself throbbing inside of her. She must have felt it too, because she looks up at you, her eyes have naturally become bigger.
You signal her in whatever way that you’re about to finish. But Tiffany only hums in satisfaction, which brings you so much closer to your orgasm. She moans, when you finally do cum. You unload deep inside Tiffany’s throat. Holding onto the phone, you do your best to keep the camera focused on her face.
Tiffany closes her eyes in bliss, feeling how your warm cum paints her throat. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“Follow me.”
Tiffany opens the door to the room next to her bedroom. Yeji’s room is on your left. You glance inside, the door slightly opened. You see her bed, a stuffed toy on it, and a desk. In that moment, Tiffany takes your hand and the two of you walk into the room she just unlocked. The key is still in the keyhole as you walk past. This is probably Tiffany’s way to make sure that Yeji doesn’t know what her mother is doing for a living.
The big window in front of you leads towards the garden. You can see the corner of the pool as you step a little closer. A bed is standing on your right. Next to it a nightstand. One would think it’s just a normal bedroom. But when you turn to your left, you see two tripods with cameras on them. Two cupboards stand against the wall behind those. You guess that’s where Tiffany keeps all her stuff. Costumes, sexy outfits and toys.
“Can you help me set everything up?”
“Sure.”
Reality suddenly seems to crash down on you as you pick up one of the tripods. Tiffany just gave you head. You came in her mouth barely ten minutes ago. And now you’re going to have sex with her on camera. You take a deep breath and set up the tripod near the bed, just like Tiffany told you. It’s not that you’re scared or anything. You’re just really nervous. Tiffany is on a whole different level, compared to your ex. And filming it is different too. You’ve never really done that before.
Once you’re done setting up the cameras, Tiffany walks over to one of the cupboards. She opens it and you can see inside. As you expected, it’s full with all kinds of different outfits. Tiffany takes the one on the far left, but your eyes linger on the one on the right. Is that… a nurse uniform?
“Give me five minutes.”
You nod as Tiffany closes the doors again. You can’t help but look after her as she leaves the room, imagining her in that uniform. You’re now just as hard again as you were when Tiffany took your cock down her throat.
When she closes the door behind herself, you realize that you didn’t even catch a glimpse of the outfit she is about to put on. It was something red. Just like the uniform. You stand where she left you for a moment, before you quickly walk over to the cupboard.
You open the doors again and check out the outfit to your right. A red skirt and a red top, decorated with white lace along the neckline. A matching white apron with a cross on it and a red nurse’s cap. You want to see Tiffany wear this so badly right now. You rub your hand over your clothed crotch as you scan the rest of the cupboard. A black leather outfit, a very low cut green top, which would almost expose her whole cleavage, except for her nipples, a long white dress that almost looks too elegant for this room.
Something else suddenly catches your attention. You squat down and reach for one of the two drawers on the bottom of the cupboard. Biting your lower lip, you feast your eyes on row after row on Tiffany Hwang’s bra collection. There are probably around thirty of them. All differently colored and with different decorations. One has a bow on it at the front. Another one is made out of white lace with butterfly patterns. A third one is a red strapless one. Your hand lingers above a fourth one. It’s blue and it’s not shaped like the other ones. It’s more like a couple of ribbons sewed together, which would only cover Tiffany’s nipples. The rest of her tits would be completely visible.
You quickly open the other one. It’s full with her panties. All folded and lined up neatly. Some of them seem to have a matching bra in the other drawer, while others seem to be a stand alone item. You catch a glimpse of one that has writing on the front. You slightly push the one on top of it out of the way.
“Good girl”
Taking a deep breath, you close both drawers again, but not without letting your eyes scan through their contents one last time. You wonder for how long Tiffany must be doing this already. Because these are a lot, even for a woman. You remember when you were young and you rummaged through your moms wardrobe, searching for the TV remote she hid, while she was out of the house, because she didn’t want you to watch TV the whole day. You came across her underwear drawer, but Tiffany’s is on another level. You wonder if she has even more inside her normal bedroom. Or inside the other cupboard?
A second later, you stand in front of it. But just when you’re about to open its doors, you hear footsteps approaching. You quickly look around. You don’t want to be caught going through her underwear. Two giant steps later, you reach the bed and jump onto the mattress. Just in time. Right when you lean your head against the wall behind you, Tiffany opens the door. You almost forget what you just saw. Hell, you almost forget to breathe.
Tiffany as a whole is too much to handle. You feel like your jaw is about to drop, so you quickly look down, not wanting her to think that you’re some naive little boy. Your eyes land on her feet. They’re covered in red stockings, which are barely see through. But you do catch a hint of her white painted nails. Your eyes follow along Tiffany’s legs as you admire how the fabric tightly wraps around her skin. The thicker fabric turns into lace as you reach her thighs. Red roses greet you as you near the end of her stockings. A strap serves as the next path for your eyes to travel on. Its connection with the hem of Tiffany’s stockings is decorated with a small red bow.
Eventually, you reach Tiffany’s waist. It’s covered by her red garter belt, which is, just like her panties and bra, made out of red lace. Her high-waisted panties give you a side view of one of her butt cheeks, before your focus lands on her clothed pussy. You still can’t believe how sexy she is, you can’t get enough of her. Your eyes travel even further. Past her belly button and her garter belt and along her flat stomach.
Tiffany’s chest is covered by a red lace bra with the same pattern as the top of her stockings. Your gaze lingers right between both her breasts, before you travel along one of her bra straps. You reach her collarbone, which is decorated by a golden necklace, a heart in the middle. Her shoulders are covered in red silk. The night robe she is wearing flows down her back and would’ve hidden her round cheek, if she didn’t rest her hand on her hip. A flirtatious smile plays around her freshly painted red lips.
“You’ve been staring for ages.”
“S-Sorry.”
Well, you certainly do look like a naive little boy right now.
“I don't mind at all.”
Tiffany laughs, before finally stepping fully inside the room.
“So, have you decided yet?”
“Huh?”
You zoned out for a second, too distracted by Tiffany turning around and closing the door.
Now she turns back to you.
“Have you thought about a suitable concept for our video? This was your idea after all.”
You clear your throat, trying to buy yourself some time. Since you decided to message Tiffany, dozens of ideas have piled up inside your mind. One more dirty and fucked up then the next.
“I do have a couple of ideas, actually.”
Tiffany smiles at you as she slowly walks towards the bed.
“Let’s just decide on one for now, shall we?”
She leans down and places her hands on the mattress, right next to your leg. You don’t stand a chance. A second later, you brazenly stare at her voluptuous cleavage.
“We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves yet.”
You tear your eyes off her body once more and focus back on her face. A knowing grin plays around her lips.
“Sure.”
You finally decide on one idea you had in mind.
Tiffany doesn’t look very convinced at first, but as you continue your explanation, her eyes grow a little softer.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
You get off the bed, while Tiffany looks around.
“Why don’t you carry the tripod downstairs and I will set up everything else in the kitchen?”
“Sounds good.”
You’re excited. Receiving a blowjob from Yeji’s mom was already an incredible moment. But now, you're about to actually sleep with her. Your finger shakes as you press the record button on the camera, secured on the tripod, which is directed at the open kitchen. You walk into the hallway, as you hear Tiffany starting the coffee machine. You wait for it to finish, before you silently count to ten, just like the two of you planned. You take your phone out of your pocket and hit the record button on it as well.
When you walk into the kitchen, you see Tiffany leaning against the counter behind her. She is facing the door you’re now standing in as she sips on her freshly made coffee. She acts sleepy, covering her mouth, pretending to yawn into her hand.
“Oh, good morning Ms. Hwang. Did you sleep well last night?”
Your voice makes her look up at you. You make sure your phone captures her face and some of her cleavage. The two of you outlined the general direction of the conversation earlier, but most of it is gonna be improvisation.
“Good morning! I slept pretty well and you?”
Tiffany looks up from her cup and smiles at you.
“I got.. Some sleep. We stayed up pretty late haha. Sorry for all the noise.”
Your words make her shake her head.
“Oh don’t worry, I didn't hear a thing. Would you like a cup? This coffee maker makes a mean cup.”
She gestures towards the machine and of course you accept.
“I would appreciate it. Thank you”
“So why are you up this early? I’d assume you try to get some more sleep after last night.”
“I usually wake up early to get some exercise in. No matter how little sleep I get.”
Tiffany hands you your cup and smiles sympathetically.
“Oh you poor thing. It's okay to take some days off, you know?”
“Yeah but if I get off my routine I’ll start to get lazy and all my hard work would go to waste.”
She nods in understanding, while you try the coffee.
“And who are you working out so hard for? Who’s my poor baby losing sleep over? A girlfriend perhaps?”
It feels weird to you that Tiffany calls you baby. Especially since she isn’t your girlfriend. But you go along with it.
“No, no girlfriend unfortunately. It’s just for myself to stay in shape. It’s a good way to keep my self disciplined on a routine”
“Well if I could offer my honest opinion..”
A sly, almost hungry smile plays around her lips.
“I think your hard work is paying off quite well.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate that”
“You know.. because of my daughter’s sleepover. I had to break my own little routine. It’s going to be hard to get back to it without some help.”
Tiffany puts her cup down and steps closer. She keeps eye contact with you.
“Care to lend a hand?”
She places her hand on your shoulder as she says those words. The camera on the tripod catches her movements, while your phone is focused on her face.
“Sorry about that, but if you want.. I could help you out. I have some time.”
A victorious smile plays around the corners of her mouth.
“I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Tiffany bites her lips seductively as she says those words. Her hand slowly moves down your shoulder, past your biceps and along your lower arm, until it reaches your own hand. She takes your coffee and places the mug on the counter next to you.
“Well then handsome…”
She locks her fingers around yours.
“Care to follow me?”
She is face to face with you as she whispers those words. You lift the camera a little, so you can see her properly.
“Lead the way ma’am.”
You follow after her as Tiffany leads you upstairs.
The two of you walk into the room you were in earlier. Tiffany slings her arms around your neck and turns you around her, so your back is facing the other camera and the bed. Her lips capture yours, which you try to film with your phone. But her lips prove to be too distracting. You close your eyes as you start to lose yourself in the kiss. The last kiss you had was some time ago, with-
Tiffany puts her weight forward, against you, which makes you walk backwards. When your knees hit the edge of the bed, Tiffany finally lets go of your lips. The faint hint of strawberries leaves your lips as you already hope for a second kiss.
She places a finger on your chest, looking up at you with a seductive smile.
“My routine includes working out too.”
Tiffany doesn’t have to use a lot of force to push you onto the bed. A moment after you hit the soft mattress, she is already straddling you. Your hand finds its way to one of her lace covered thighs, while the other holds your phone, trying to capture as much of her as possible. She kisses your cheek once, before pecking you on the lips. Once more the taste of strawberries lingers on your lips as Tiffany moves her mouth closer to your ear.
"Although I’m usually the one who gets worked out.”
She playfully gives your earlobe a little bite, before she moves down your neck. Kiss after kiss, lick after lick, Tiffany travels towards the hem of your shirt. Your free hand reaches behind her back, trying to undo her bra, but Tiffany slowly moves it away while she shakes her head.
“Not so impatient, baby.”
Her smile sends warmth through your system as she leans down and places that smile directly onto your lips. When she moves back, you feel her breath against your lips.
“Just let me take care of you for now.”
Once more, Tiffany begins her journey along your neck. When she reaches your shirt, you feel her hands sneak underneath it from further down, while she kisses your clothed chest. You feel them exploring your upper body as Tiffany keeps peppering you with kisses. She slowly makes her way towards your crotch, while the rest of her body shuffles backwards, until she is face to face with your clothed cock.
“Let's see what you have for me.”
Another smile and Tiffany starts to take off your pants. You make sure your phone captures her deep cleavage as she leans over your lower body.
“Wow.”
Tiffany looks up with an impressed look on her face as she pulls down your pants, revealing your cock.
“I didn’t expect someone my daughter’s age to have such a nice dick.”
“Thank you, Ms. Hwang.”
You make sure that you sound a little embarrassed as she gives your cock a long, slow lick.
“Do you know how much fun we could’ve had last night?”
A second lick follows the first as Tiffany slowly strokes the lower half of your cock.
“I was so horny, thinking about all the young men in my house.”
She lets her tongue swirl around your tip, before she looks back at your face.
“I wouldn’t have minded at all, if you had come in during the night.”
You hold your breath as Tiffany suddenly bobs her head a couple of times on your cock. Her lips glide up and down your length with a speed you weren’t prepared for. But it ended as quickly as it started. Biting back a disappointed groan, you see Tiffany’s eyes sparkle in amusement as if she was silently saying,
“Girls your age don’t play with your cock like this.”
You try to come up with a witty reply, which isn’t as easy as it sounds, when you have someone lying between your legs.
“I will make sure to check up on you during the next sleepover.”
Tiffany smiles as you feel her free hand dive underneath your shirt once more.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Your head finally sinks back into the sheets, while you keep your phone locked on Tiffany. You’re starting to get the hang of it, while she keeps sucking your cock. Even closing your eyes momentarily, you feel her working your shaft with a level of skill, which you aren’t used to. Like before, her technique is too good for you to handle long term. How Tiffany’s lips wrap around your tip. How they slowly glide along your length. How she sucks on your dick, while keeping an airtight seal around it. How one hand gently cups your balls, while the other keeps drawing circles on your chest. How her tongue swirls around your tip, whenever she lifts her head. How it seems to wiggle around your cock like a snake, when Tiffany almost reaches your base.
A particularly tight grip of her lips around your cock makes you thrust upwards a little. If you didn’t have yourself under control at that moment, that would’ve been it. You would’ve blown your load into her mouth without warning. But you do your best to keep your cool. You still have something to prove. Trying to think of something else, you close your eyes again. Maybe you should surprise her? Should you end this pleasurable torture and leave her heaven like mouth? But what would you do then? How would Tiffany react?
You hesitate. You’re afraid she might back off. Might call off this whole thing.
“Improvisation and surprise. That’s what draws a viewer in. Excitement.”
Your late father’s words suddenly echo through your head as you reach the verge of your orgasm. You don’t know how your mind got there. But as always, your father is right.
You reach forward and push Tiffany’s hair a little to the side, cupping her cheek. She leans into your palm a little, humming in acknowledgement. You brace yourself. Gone is your urge to shoot your load down Tiffany’s throat. For some reason, she has triggered your competitive spirit with the way she is sucking you off.
Tiffany lifts her head once more, her lips gliding across your cock. When she reaches your tip, you feel that tongue again. How it swirls around your tip. How she-
You stop yourself. You count to three inside your head. All or nothing.
A frown appears on Tiffany’s forehead as she feels you slowly pulling her off your cock. Her mouth is already empty when she looks towards you. You quickly wrap your legs around her torso. You feel her struggle for a second on instinct. But a second later, you already roll you both over. You land on top of Tiffany, who has a surprised look on her face. She didn’t expect you to be able to do this.
A grin appears on your lips as you steal a kiss from her.
“Since I saw you downstairs, I wanted to know what your pussy tastes like.”
You lean down and suck on Tiffany’s neck. A moan leaves her lips and you could swear she is smiling now.
“Do you always dress this sexy, when your daughter has friends over?”
Tiffany gasps. Not intentionally. She is very surprised by your change of attitude. She was able to tell that you weren’t as confident and experienced as the other men she's been with. She had been wondering if she made the right call. It was still weird to her to be doing this with a boy. With her neighbor’s son, to be exact. She felt how close you were to already cuming down her throat mere seconds ago.
But now, you’re on top of her. Tiffany feels how your lips slightly suck on her skin. How you give her neck small bites. Your free hand has moved to take a handful of her right breast, now squeezing it through her bra.
For a second, she wonders if this is all an act. An act to make the video as good as possible. But then again…
You couldn’t just do this without some sort of proper confidence.
Tiffany glances at your phone, making sure that you’re still doing that part of your job properly, before she completely lets you take over. She feels your control over her as your weight pins her to the mattress underneath her.
You quickly reach under her back and undo her bra with one hand. You practiced this long enough, after the first time with your ex. It took you way too long to take her bra off. Even with two hands. But your work pays off now. Tiffany lets out a sigh as she bites her lip, feeling your hand exposing her chest. Your lips move from her neck to her collarbone, while your free hand plays with her tits.
“Yes, baby.”
The woman underneath you moans into your ear. You move on from her neck soon enough, leaving a trail of kisses on your way to her chest. Once you reach her tits, your hand moves further down too. It glides over Tiffany’s tight tummy as you lick her breasts. You occasionally take a slightly brown nipple into your mouth and suck on it. Your actions make Tiffany arch her back into the air, further towards your lips and your tongue.
Meanwhile, your hand has reached her garter belt. You slip past it, feeling her belly button underneath your palm. As your fingertips touch the hem of her panties, you playfully bite into one of her nipples. Not hard. But the unexpected stimulation makes Tiffany moan out loud.
“Holy fuck!”
You are not as inexperienced as she thought you were. Your lips now follow your hand’s path, leaving Tiffany desperate for another bite.
Just as your fingertips graze her pussy lips underneath the red lace, you pull them away. You hear her breath hitch as you place your hand on her thigh. The milky white flesh feels soft, but firm at the same time. The red strap that connects her stockings to her belt is being pressed into your palm as Tiffany flexes her thighs. She feels your mouth coming closer. You record the place where your lips just were as you finally reach her panties. You lift your head, taking a moment to do a close up shot of her lace covered core. Glancing at her face, you see Tiffany’s red cheeks. Her aroused and slightly curious face makes you smile on the inside. You’re proud of yourself for making her crumble underneath your touches.
Moving your phone a little out of the way again, you lean forward. You plant a kiss on her panties, quickly inhaling her scent.
“You’re way too good at this.”
You wonder if that’s Tiffany who said that, or the character she is playing right now. Another kiss makes her hips buck in your direction.
“Don’t tease me.”
She sighs, giving you a desperate look, which you make sure to capture with your phone.
“Remember, you’re partially responsible for messing up my routine.”
You kiss her thigh instead, which makes her shake her head.
“No, please. You promised to make it up to me.”
Her desperate tone makes you give in. Your ex told you more than once how important foreplay is, so you always took it quite serious. But it seems like Tiffany has already had enough.
Because you can’t just take off her panties, you pull them to the side. A mouthwatering sight reveals itself to you as her slightly brown lips glisten with arousal. You quickly do another close up shot, but your excitement makes you cut it short. Soon, your lips kiss a circle around her lips as you already have a slight hint of her taste on them.
“You make me so wet.”
Another sigh from Tiffany as she reaches for a fistful of your hair. You feel her grab the phone, so you hand it over to her. You can’t see it, but you can almost feel how she films you, while you start to swipe your tongue over her folds. You do the same motion over and over again. Swiping your tongue from the bottom to the top. Whenever you come too close to her clit, Tiffany clamps her thighs together, letting a moan escape her lips. The only problem is, that your head is in between them. You use both your hands to take a hold of her thighs, not wanting to get crushed, as Tiffany moans and whines. You can’t believe that Yeji’s mother is making these sounds because of you. You never thought you would see her in only underwear, or naked ,or, specifically, her bare pussy.
You’re still trying to pinpoint what exactly Tiffany tastes like. Does her pussy taste like strawberries too? Just like her lips? Not really. It tastes a little different. You dive deeper, trying to get to the bottom of this. Your tongue now roams inside her velvet tunnel, making Tiffany’s head fall back. Her hand in your hair starts to make your scalp burn as she keeps tugging at it harder and harder. She keeps pressing your face right into her pussy as you lick and eat her out with all your might.
The sweet, but slightly salty taste of her juices invade your mouth, while you make Tiffany moan and gasp. Her state of mind switches constantly from surprise, to pure lust, to confusion, to arousal and back to surprise. She didn’t expect this at all from you.
Yes, it’s not the best oral sex she’s ever gotten. And your technique is a little sloppy. But Tiffany didn’t even expect you to have a technique. She thought you were too young. Too inexperienced to properly pleasure a woman like her. But you’re proving her wrong right now. The way your tongue glides along the insides of her pussy. The way it occasionally changes its path and gives her clit a flick. The way you bury your face deep into her core. Tiffany is pleasantly surprised at your visible love for her pussy. More often than not was she with guys, who never even bothered eating her out. And if they did, she felt like they were seeing it as a chore. But you seem to enjoy having your tongue buried deep inside her snatch.
Your effort and your pure intention to just make her feel good makes Tiffany mewl and shake. Her thighs close around your head again and again. Her hand pulls you further into her core.
She knows that you’re not quite there yet. Your work is enough to make her fall apart though. To moan your name and breathlessly beg for more. Tiffany wonders, with only a little bit of teaching, you could probably make her cum once or twice on a regular basis. The thought alone makes her pussy even wetter. But it also makes her long for you even more. She suddenly feels the great urge to properly feel you inside of her. She needs you to finally fill her with your cock.
“Need your cock, baby.”
Tiffany whines, her hand in your hair, gently pushing you off her cunt.
“Give it to me.”
She hands you your phone and you make sure her whole body is in focus once more. You kneel in front of her as you stroke your shaft, which is still wet from her earlier blowjob. You can’t help but feel excitement rush through your veins. Up until now, everything was perfect. You still can’t believe your luck. Two blowjobs and the opportunity to eat out Tiffany Hwang. Your attempt to make Yeji’s life hell has already proven to be more pleasurable than you could’ve ever imagined.
And now, you place your cock on top of her labia. Her juices glisten on her skin and you start to rub your cock against her lips.
“Oh, gosh. No teasing!”
Tiffany’s needy voice doesn’t stop you from building your own anticipation as high as possible. This is the moment you’ve dreamed of for years. You still remember the first time you touched yourself to Yeji’s mom. It was summer and you were invited to some neighbor’s garden party. Tiffany showed up in a very tight dress that showed off her ass and a very low cut neckline. Since that day, you imagined her so often while you-
Tiffany interrupts your thoughts by slinging her legs around your waist. The red fabric rubs against your skin as she takes your hand into hers, your cock now freely resting on top of her cleanly shaven cunt.
“Stop playing with me already, baby. I can’t take it anymore.”
Your world starts to spin as Tiffany pulls the same move that you pulled on her earlier. Once more, you’re lying on your back, while Tiffany sits on your lap. Her pussy still rubbing against your cock.
“You’ve got to learn this lesson, baby. “
Tiffany reaches down to stroke your shaft. Her face is marked with pleasure as her dominating stare seems to burn your soul.
“I’m not a patient woman. If I say I need cock, then I do mean I need cock.”
With those words, Tiffany lifts herself off your lap and positions herself right above your tip. Her labia grazes it once more and you feel her fingers hold your cock in place. You make sure your phone catches your cock penetrating her pussy. You almost let it slip out of your hand. It has been a while since you had sex with your ex. But even if you would have cum during the blowjob earlier, you would be just as close to your orgasm as you are now. Her velvet walls squeeze your tip as Tiffany lowers herself onto your cock.
“Oh my gosh!”
You hope the set up camera captures her face, because the only body parts you are able to move are your eyes. They switch between the sight of her pussy engulfing your cock, to watching how a high pitched moan leaves her mouth as she bites her lips, and back to your shaft disappearing inside her cunt.
“You’re so big inside me. I love your cock.”
Tiffany gasps as she slides down your shaft. The more she takes, the more strength the both of you need to keep it together. One of her hands has found itself entangled in her brown hair, messing it up as she tugs and pulls on it, trying to get accustomed to you being inside of her. Her other hand is pressed flat on your chest, giving her enough stability to keep sitting upright. Your own free hand can’t hold itself back anymore. You reach upwards to squeeze one of her breasts, which makes Tiffany’s head roll back.
Under heavy moans, she slowly begins to ride you. It is a fantastic show she is able to pull off. How her hips meet yours. How her waist moves when she rolls her hips a little. How her tits slightly bounce. How her red lips produce moan after moan.
And the feeling. You can’t really describe it. Your time with your ex now seems like a smudged water painting, while Tiffany’s ride makes you feel like looking at an 8k picture. Her slick cunt coats your cock with her juices. Her nails slightly dig into your chest. The stimuli that flood your brain seem to overload your mind.
“Fuck.”
It’s the first time you have to curse under your breath. Tiffany just lifted her legs a little, placing her instep on your thighs. You feel the red fabric rub against your skin. Most of her weight is now being supported by her knees on the mattress and her hand on your chest. Tiffany leans over, showing off her tight tummy to the camera, while her hair falls into her face.
You raise your upper body and capture one of her nipples with your mouth.
“Gosh, yes!”
By now, both her hands have found their place on your chest. Tiffany keeps her slightly bent over position as she keeps bouncing on your cock. Her smooth walls make your cock as hard as it has never been before. You eagerly suck on her tits as you aim your phone at her pussy. The sounds of her cheeks clapping against your lap fills the room, accompanied by her moans and an occasional groan from you. Your hand, which was fondling her tits, is now right above her pussy. Your thumb flicks against her clit. The result is louder moaning. An increase of pace in her riding. And visibly more scratch marks than before.
You actually manage to drive Tiffany towards her orgasm. Which quickly proves to be a bad thing for you. Her cunt squeezes you harder with every flick of your thumb against her clit. She now slams herself down all the way to your base, making her pussy take every last inch of you. Now you’re close too.
“Damn, you have such a nice pussy.”
You manage to say through your teeth, trying to hold in the inevitable. Tiffany pulls off a satisfied smile. But her focus is certainly needed elsewhere. She can’t believe you’re actually able to hold out this long. For a second, she thought you were gonna cum after only a minute, when she saw your reaction to your cock disappearing inside of her. Now she is on the verge of her own orgasm. She can feel you twitch inside of her. Your face tells her that the two of you either cum together, or no one cums. Tiffany decides on the latter. The video isn’t finished yet. If you want to make more appearances in the future, she will need to test you a little more. So far, your cock definitely qualifies. But what about your fucking? She has been the only one working hard up until now.
Tiffany slows down drastically. It unintentionally makes you thrust upwards once or twice, before you have yourself under control. Tiffany leans further down, her mouth now next to your ear.
“Time to work me out properly.”
You turn your head slightly, pulling Tiffany into another kiss. Your lips stay locked for a while as her hips slowly move in circles around your dick.
“Get on all fours.”
Tiffany was about to suggest the next position, but you beat her to it. A satisfied smile plays around her lips as she slowly gets off you.
“That’s right, baby. Make me take your cock like a slut.”
Her words trigger something primal in you. Maybe that was her intention anyway.
As soon as Tiffany is in position, you kneel behind her. Your phone captures how you slap both her ass cheeks once, before squeezing them softly.
A moan echoes through the room as Tiffany feels her cheeks burn up after another spank. She directly faces the camera, standing on the tripod, right at the edge of the bed. She could touch it, if she stretched out her arm. She bites her lip as she feels you aligning your cock with her pussy. You rub your tip against her labia again, teasing her a little.
“You’re such a bad boy.”
Tiffany sighs, feeling how you barely graze her pussy. She secretly loves how you tease her. You turn her into a begging slut in front of the camera.
“Oh yes! Right there!”
Tiffany lets out a loud moan, when you finally do push inside her again. Your hand automatically glides over her slightly arched back. You marvel at how smooth her skin feels, while her walls pull you further into her. You take a hold of her red lace garterbelt, slightly twisting the fabric to use it as a makeshift rein. You pull her onto your cock, while thrusting forward.
“Oh lord!”
Tiffany lets out a surprised yelp, surprised by you suddenly bottoming out inside of her. You quickly settle in a rhythm that works for you and start to fuck Tiffany from behind. Moans spill from her lips, her fists open and close around her sheets, her feet shuffle around as you use her pussy. Her insides feel just as good as when she rode you a moment ago. But now that you had a taste of her warm depth, you start to become greedy. You want to go as deep into her body as you can. You want to feel how her body completely swallows your cock. How her labia stretches around your shaft.
You put some pressure with your hand on her back. It makes Tiffany arch her back further, her upper body getting closer to the mattress. Her body’s center of gravity moves forward, which lifts her feet off the mattress. Once more, Tiffany’s clothed insteps touch your body. They rest on your hips, which makes her ass look even rounder. You can feel yourself now being able to just push that little bit deeper into her. It makes you increase your pace and you keep pushing her further down.
Finally, Tiffany’s head rests on the mattress. She still tries to keep eye contact with the camera. She does her best fuck-me face. Biting her lower lip, frowning, her eyes only half open. But she can’t keep it up for long. Your thrusts into her cunt makes her feet, which are pressed against your hips, hit her ass. With every thrust, her heels dig into her cheeks.
“Gosh, baby! You’re so deep! I-”
Tiffany’s sentence is interrupted by another loud moan, when you reach down to grab one of her arms. You put it on her back and make her close her hand around her garterbelt. You do the same with the second one. Now, Tiffany’s face is buried in the sheets, her muffled moans are only barely audible over your hips smacking against her ass. You know that her viewers would love to see her pleasure wrecked face though. At least you would.
You reach out to grab a fistful of her hair and make it into a makeshift ponytail. You lift her head by pulling at it.
“Oh fuck!”
Tiffany greets you with a loud cry as she feels you fucking her as deep as you possibly can.
“That’s it, baby!”
You feel her cunt tightening around you, whenever you pull on her hair a little. Her upper body is completely in the air, only supported by your grip on her hair and her own hands on her garterbelt. Her back still shows off a beautiful arch though and you can see a small trail of sweat run down towards her ass.
“Fuck me harder!”
Tiffany whines loudly as you keep using your control over her entire body to pleasure yourself. She has given up trying to look sexy for the camera for a while now. Her mouth is now just hanging open, her tongue slightly visible as she takes your pounding from behind.
“Fucking use my pussy!”
You feel it tighten at her own words. You’re surprised how much she is enjoying it. You really hope you’re proving to her that this was a great idea.
“Make me your bitch! Yes!”
Tiffany cries out as you bottom out in her cunt again and again. A strand of her hair has escaped your fingers and is now swinging to your rhythm on the right side of her face.
“Fill me with this young cock!”
Her moans get louder and louder. But unfortunately, you are starting to reach your breaking point once more. There isn’t much left in you. You have to admit that your muscles are starting to grow tired. Your ability to hold back your orgasm becomes weaker. Letting a shaky breath escape your lips, you let go of Tiffany’s hair. She falls face first into the mattress, accompanied by a surprised yelp.
“You’re way too tight, Ms Hwang. I’m gonna cum soon.”
Before she can react properly, you turn her over. Tiffany manages to take her hands off the garterbelt, before she lies on her back. Her messed up hair hides parts of her face as she looks up at you with anticipation. Before you started recording, the two of you decided on how to end your sex scene. As much as you would’ve liked to cum in her mouth again, or maybe even inside her pussy, her suggestion wasn’t that bad either.
Now that she is lying in a missionary position in front of you, you grab the red lace around her waist once more. Your phone is focused on her whole body yet again, as you begin your final sprint towards the end. Her stocking covered legs wrap around your hips, keeping you in place. She doesn’t even have to do that. Nothing in this world could stop you from fucking her right now. You watch how your entire cock penetrates her pretty lips again and again. Her smooth skin around her cunt glistens with sweat and her own juices. Pulling Tiffany towards you, using the garterbelt, has you penetrate her as deep as possible yet again.
You feel your cock starting to throb. And judging by the increasing volume of her moans, so does she.
“Yeah! Cum on me, baby!”
“Fuck.”
You grunt in response, unable to hold yourself back as you fuck her as hard and deep as possible.
“Paint me! Make me your bitch!”
You know you won’t last a moment longer. You feel a familiar pull and you quickly try to pull out of Tiffany’s warm cunt. Almost too late. A second later, you cum on her pussy.
“Oh yes, baby. Claim my pussy.”
A groan leaves your mouth. Stars dance around in front of your eyes. Your knees buckle. You do your best, to keep your eyes open. You want to see what you did to Tiffany.
Her pussy is covered in your cum, her slightly brown lips sticky with semen. A small trail runs down her skin, heading towards her ass and the sheets.
The both of you are trying to catch your breath, once you finally finish. You keep recording her, showing how Tiffany’s tits and her stomach move up and down, before you do a close up shot of her cum covered cunt.
“Oh my gosh.”
You hear her sigh, a satisfied smile on her face. You watch and record how Tiffany reaches down and starts to play with your cum on her pussy. She slowly rubs her clit and occasionally lets a finger disappear inside her cunt.
“You can turn it off now.”
You look at her and stop the recording. Staying silent, you wait for her verdict, although it seemed like she was satisfied with your performance.
“Not bad for a boy. I could see us doing this again.”
You can’t hide your wide smile, excitement washing through your body.
“But if you lied to me and this kind of theme doesn’t help me at all…”
“It will.”
You sound surprisingly confident. But then again, who wouldn’t be, after experiencing possibly the best sex in your life.
Tiffany nods and starts to get off the bed. You do the same, but you can’t help but glance at her, while the two of you get dressed.
“Let's do the ending scene.”
Tiffany has slipped her panties back to their original place, put on her bra and thrown her silk robe over her shoulders.
The two of you now stand in front of the door, just like you planned earlier. You make sure that Tiffany is in focus, before hitting the record button once more. She opens the door a little, but then looks at the camera.
“I hope my daughter has another sleepover soon. I would hate it, if I would have to wait too long for you to come back.”
“Don’t worry, Ms Hwang. I’m sure she will do one again on her birthday.”
“Oh! You’re right.”
An excited smile plays around Tiffany’s lips.
Then, she steps closer, her face almost touching yours. Her eyes become seductive once more.
“I won’t be able to wait till morning though, if I know you’re sleeping in the next room.”
She takes your free hand and guides it towards her core. Your fingers dive underneath her panties. You make sure that the camera captures that.
“I’m gonna try to sneak out as soon as I can. But we stayed up very late yesterday. I doubt we will go to bed earlier next time.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Her hand reaches down, cupping your balls.
“The possibility is very slim. But if I do fall asleep early…”
Tiffany whispers, before kissing your cheekbone, her hand now stroking your cock over your pants.
“Don’t bother waking me up.”
Her voice becomes barely audible as she looks directly into your eyes, her other hand pushing your finger deep inside of her.
“Just put it in.”
“Fuck, yes!”
You whisper, when you see that Tiffany has sent you a video. It's almost midnight and you’re lying in your bed, about to go to sleep. You have actual footage of you, fucking Yeji’s mom. After years and years of fights and humiliation, you finally hold the ultimate weapon in your hand. You know that Yeji will be at Eunha’s party tomorrow. Now, you only need a plan for getting the video to her.
------------------
Hello everyone!
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new series "SNSD Village". There will be many more epsidoes to come, so please stay tuned. I will post the polls, which can infleunce the next chapter, later.
Stay healthy, everyone!
#kpop#kpop smut#kpop girls#kpop gg#male reader#snsd village#snsd smut#snsd tiffany#snsd#girls generation tiffany#girls generation#girls generation smut#tiffany young#tiffany#eunha#jisoo#yuri#minju#yeji
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♡ simon is a bad stalker part 2 ♡
badstalker!simon x reader series - pt one three
♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡
summary: in which you meet your stalker, but not in the way you thought. mdni
a/n: the response on my last fic?? omg?? crazy. this is for @madzzz0797 and everyone else who requested! i love yall.
simon isn't someone to be stunned. the dude has seen some shit, not much has the capacity to knock the air out of his lungs.
except you, of course. "i want to meet you."
what in the actual fuck.
the words rattle around his skull, and he has to actually brace himself against the wall.
there is actually no way. he shouldn't be surprised, really. despite the fact that you didn't even know his name, he knew everything about you.
he knew the reason you started seeing a therapist wasn't because you were afraid of something happening to you, it was the fact that you didn't know what was going to happen.
above all else you really just hated not understanding what the "why's" in life. of course you weren't going to the police. only you would be primarily focused on figuring out why he was doing what he was doing, personal safety aside.
simon has no idea how to respond, so he simply hangs up. he's suddenly overwhelmed by the consequences of his own actions. he hadn't covered his tracks well because he somehow simply missed the severity what he was doing.
to him his motive was simple; he found you to be one of the only good things left in this world and it was only natural that he tries to protect you from the bad.
but then he realized that to you, some strange man was interfering with your life and literally sending personal drivers to your rescue seemingly out of nowhere.
again, simon thinks, he's completely fucked.
he weighs his options, like he has any. so far, you've taken the situation relatively well, and it seems like the only way he could do any type of damage control is to give you what you want.
on the other hand, he wants to run for the hills. to ghost you, essentially. but he knows he can't for the same reason he started this whole thing in the first place.
simon had an undeniable need to keep you safe and close.
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
when the line goes dead, you audibly say "what the fuck!?" to no one. he's the one stalking you, and he hangs up? what a dick.
then, as you begin to sober, you realize how much of a fucked up situation you're in. you contemplate calling a friend, spilling your guts about everything. then you realize it's 3am, and you should probably go to bed.
the following week you kind of just... go on as usual. you still feel watched, but for some reason you don't feel it as intensely. you wonder if you spooked your own stalker, and the thought almost makes you giggle.
then you come home one day and you immediately know something is off. your cat doesn't greet you as quickly as usual, (something that started when simon started coming around, he knew how much you worried about the thing being lonely, so he took it upon himself to drop by and give it attention every once in a while).
then you see it, a box of pastry on your kitchen table. you drop your purse on the ground, approaching it like it was an explosive.
a pretty little bow is wrapped around it (simon had seen your pinterest, he doesn't understand the bow obsession, but he knows you would like it)
you open the box, a note taped on the lid. it was your favorite croissants from your favorite bakery, and you shiver a little when you realize the box is still warm.
you snatch the note from the lid, shooing your cat away from sniffing at the croissants.
"i'm sorry. we can meet soon, i promise."
you roll your eyes. you can't believe he's suddenly back with a note and pastries like he's an ex you broke it off with.
and then it sinks in, he said you would meet soon.
almost as if on cue, your home computer chimes.
you pick up your cat, clutching to her like she would be any help in the situation. you open your inbox and pale when you see a blocked email.
you open it, almost dropping your cat when you see that it's a zoom link.
your stalker just sent you a zoom link like you were about to have a business meeting. you click the link before you can change your mind, seeing the little pop up that informs you one person is in the meeting.
there was no way you were about to have a meet and greet over zoom with your fucking stalker.
you immediately close out of the tab and walk away, setting your cat down and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. you laugh like a psycho for a long time, your cat throwing you judgmental looks.
then you stop laughing, and you find yourself sitting in front of your computer with your cursor hovering over the 'join meeting' button.
you check one more time that your camera is turned off and will your shaking hand to click the stupid button.
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
simon watches as you laugh, and it does nothing to help calm his nerves. he silently hopes that you choose not to join the stupid video call because he's not even sure he could get any words out if you did.
the zoom was soap's idea, saying it might take the edge off (and the risk of you calling the cops). simon thought it was stupid but reluctantly agreed at the prospect of being one step closer to you.
he's pulled from his thoughts when the annoying doorbell chime lets him know that you did it, you actually joined the meeting. with your camera off, of course, not that it mattered when simon had your whole place bugged anyway.
his heart stops, he sees you staring at the screen, taking in a scarily large man in a mask and hood. he doesn't know where to put his eyes, much less what to say.
you break the ice for him, "this is way fucking weirder than just meeting you in person."
he wants to laugh, but stays silent, watching as you instinctively lean farther and farther away from your screen.
he watches you for a second before responding. "thought it would be easier like this."
for you or for him, you have no idea. you don't ask about the mask, assuming he just didn't want you to be able to identify him.
"yeah okay. um," he watches your face screw up as you try to find the words.
you settle with a simple "what the fuck?"
you watch him as he shifts in his seat, room dark and giving you no hints as to who he was.
"name's ghost." you scoff.
"i-," he stops and collects his thoughts, "i don' wanna hurt you."
you raise an eyebrow. "then what do you want?" he stays silent.
his silence irritates you, and you spur on. "what's the endgame here, ghost? because it's starting to get real fucking weird, i mean if you're gonna murder me eventually just get it over with because these little acts of kindness are driving me fucking insane."
his callsign coming from your lips sends a thrill through him, and he has to really concentrate to respond.
"...didn't really think about it. just know i want to keep you safe."
you balk at him. you had no idea why you thought he would spill his whole manifesto and confess his every thought to you.
"you know what you're doing is wrong right? being in my apartment, following me around? despite the good things you do for me?"
his entire body warms when you acknowledge the small things he's done for you, he revels in the fact that you know he's taking care of you.
"'spose so." a beat "then why are you doing it?"
he doesn't have an answer for you. "listen, ghost. you're going to meet me in person and you're going to have a lot more answers or else-" you find your voice wavering. "or else i will go to the police."
you don't give him time to respond, you simply end the call and or good measure unplug your computer, like it will somehow distance you from what happened.
you go to your bedroom, sitting on your bed heavily. you were shaking, uncontrollable shivers wracking your body.
you had just dug your grave deeper, in your childish and immature quest to understand you had just given your stalker an open invitation to come to you.
you were so fucked.
#badstalker!simon#simon x reader#ghost x reader#stalker!simon#ghost smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#cod smut#cod x reader#x reader#fluff#stalker x reader
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May I request different first meeting + meet funny? 😘💕💕💕💕
Cos we all deserved some fluff and floof in life heheheehe
Yes, you can! I hope you enjoy this and it makes up for the sad one!
Here be fluff, a different first meeting, and some laughs:
Donut Day was sacred.
This fact had been drilled into Tommy from his very first shift at Harbor. If it was your turn in the rotation, you came to work, donuts in hand. Or else.
Tommy was no fool. He'd never let himself find out what 'or else' was.
When it was his turn for Donut Day, he left two hours early so he could hit Pete's Donuts—arguably the best donut shop in all of L.A.—grab a selection of everyone's favorites, which he had memorized, thank you very much, and still make it to work on time.
Tommy was the king of Donut Day.
Except today—
Today, some guy—some punk kid—was going to cost him his crown.
To be fair, it wasn't entirely the kid's fault. Working an afternoon shift meant stopping by Pete's after the morning rush, but before the lunchtime restock was complete. Tommy thought he'd arrived early enough, but the shelves were looking pretty sad.
Which would have been fine if this guy hadn't made it through the door before him, securing a place in line ahead of Tommy, and seemed intent on buying out the place.
Nevermind, it was all this guy's fault.
Him and his...legs...that seemed to go on for days.
"I'll take that last Oreo one, please," the guy said and Tommy huffed under his breath.
Sorry about your luck, Jenkins. You're going to have to live with your second favorite—
"And that last strawberry shortcake one, too."
"Seriously?" Tommy whispered to himself, cursing his bad luck.
"Ooh, and that last triple chocolate one—"
"Oh, come on!" Tommy exclaimed, the words bursting out before he could stop them. Because really? Even the triple chocolate?
His favorite?
"Dude, what is your problem?" The guy whirled around to glare at him and Tommy felt it like a punch to the chest.
Because the donut thief was gorgeous.
Forget the legs for days and the muscled back and the equally muscled chest and arms—good god, the arms—how could Tommy focus on any of that when he was faced with the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen.
And pouty lips on a mouth that had dropped open ever so slightly as the Donut Day interloper stared back at him.
"My problem?" Tommy asked, tearing his eyes away from the pouty lips back to the beautiful blue eyes that had gone wider when he took a little step closer. "My problem is you're going to get me fired if you keep buying up all the donuts. Or at least have a whole crew of hungry firefighters calling for my head."
He sent the donut thief a rueful smile. "Think you can help a guy out?"
"Y-you're a firefighter?" The guy said and if Tommy thought he was gorgeous before, he'd clearly misunderstood the meaning of the word. The grin that stretched across his face lit it up so brightly, Tommy suddenly understood why moths made such poor life choices.
He took another step closer. Drawn in by the light.
"I'm a firefighter too," the guy exclaimed. His face fell suddenly as he looked between Tommy and the display case of donuts. "It's my turn to bring the donuts too and if I don't bring the right ones, I'll never hear the end of it. Chim really likes those Oreo ones and Hen loves the strawberry shortcake—"
"Wait." Tommy laughed, shaking his head. "Are you at the 118?"
Of all the coincidences...
"Y-yeah, how did you know?" Blue Eyes grinned and this time he took a step closer.
"I used to work there, with Howie and Hen and everyone," Tommy said. He stuck a hand out. "Tommy Kinard."
"B—uh, Evan," Blue Eyes—Evan said. "Evan Buckley."
"Well, Evan Buckley, let's see if we can figure out a donut arrangement that works for everyone, yeah?"
The next ten minutes were spent playfully haggling over their choices—even going so far as to ask the very patient counter employee to cut a few in half. Tommy was pretty sure she'd been Instagramming most of their exchange so he didn't feel too bad about it.
Finally, donut boxes in hand, he and Evan left the shop, both lingering for a moment out on the sidewalk.
Tommy didn't miss the way Evan's eyes lingered over him at the same time. Zeroing in on his chin for some reason.
"That was some pretty good trouble-shooting in there," Tommy began, shaking Evan out of his chin-centric thoughts.
"Oh, uh, yeah," Evan said, shaking his head with a little laugh. "I'm going to get roasted over those donut halves though."
"You won't be the only one," Tommy said. He could already hear Jenkins' voice ranting at him over it.
But more importantly, he could feel the seconds ticking away before he and Evan would be going their separate ways and Tommy—for some reason—really didn't want to let that happen.
"You should give me your number," he heard himself saying. "So we can commiserate later."
"O-okay," Evan said, already digging his phone out of his pocket. "A-and you should give me yours. Tell me how you like the lime and jalapeno donut."
The one he'd talked Tommy into trying even though Tommy had zero tolerance for spice.
He was somehow already a complete pushover for this man.
They entered their numbers into each other's phones and handed them back with little grins.
"I should get going," Tommy said reluctantly, not able to put off the inevitable any longer. "It was really nice to meet you, Evan."
"You too," Evan said. "Tommy."
With one last smile, one last look, Tommy headed down the sidewalk to his truck, Evan leaving in the opposite direction.
Tommy turned back for one last last look and almost blushed at getting caught by Evan as he did it—before he realized Evan caught him because he was doing the exact same thing.
And Evan was definitely blushing.
Well.
How about that?
Despite his little donut thief adventure, Tommy still made it to work in plenty of time. He dropped the donuts off in the kitchen and stepped back as the hungry masses fell upon the boxes.
"Kinard!" Jenkins yelled out a few seconds later. He emerged from the huddle holding up half of an Oreo donut. "What the hell, man?"
"It was for a good cause," Tommy said. "Trust me."
Jenkins kept cranking at him, but Tommy was already tuning him out, attention caught by a new text on his phone.
A message from Evan.
Tommy opened it, chuckling over the picture of a very disgruntled looking Howie and Hen.
They're questioning our choices, the text read.
We'll just have to do better next time, Tommy wrote back.
He chewed on his lip, watching as three bubbles blinked in and out on his screen until finally—
Same time next week?
Can't wait, Tommy replied quickly.
He was going to be doing some heavy editing of the donut rotation for the foreseeable future and everyone was just going to have to deal with it...
Because Tommy had a donut thief to woo.
(This was from this ask game!)
#ask game#asks answered#fun asks#writing exercises#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan#tevan fic#kinley#kinley fic#tommy kinard#evan buckley#buck x tommy#different first meeting#fluff#humor
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“You okay honey?”
Inspired by this post
Summary: the TF141 boys play rock, paper, scissors to determine who will play the role of the doting yet protective boyfruend for you tonight so pervs don’t come flirt with you
It’s short, but my brain isn’t working lately
warnings: some sexual content
“Guys come on, seriously.” I stared on as Price and Soap were in the ‘finals’ of their competition to see who’d be your fake boyfriend tonight at the bar. Price cheers as he finally defeats Soap, wrapping his arm around you and placing a sweet kiss to your temple.
This had been an ongoing thing with the four of them since you had an altercation with a creep at a bar and had to punch said dude in the face. The boys didn’t want you to worry about that anymore, so they always play the role of the protective boyfriend/fiancé/husband for you. It’s worked well so far, so you can’t complain.
You also won’t complain about the attention you get from them.
Each man had a different way, each with their own pros and cons.
Gaz was sweet and affectionate, and he was calm of a guy were to come up to you. He handled everything with grace, but he wasn’t too keen on being super touchy. He’d compliment you, stand behind you during conversations and maybe place a hand on your tight, but that was all.
Ghost, was hardly a boyfriend type. He didn’t ever touch you, unless you physically forced his hand into yours, and even then he’d tense at the action. As much as he cared and wanted to protect you, he wasn’t there to pretend to be your boyfriend, he was there to pummel any man who looked in your direction.
Soap, he was so much fun when he was your fake boyfriend. He was touchy, clingy, fiesty and all over perfect. He was always by your side, hands around your waist, lips pecking your neck lightly, teasing you. That was his approach, he’d tease you all night, make you want him. Most of the time, the moment you both left the bar, you’d burst out laughing at how you two acted, but there’s been some nights you ended up in his bed.
Price, was a beautiful fake lover. He was sweet and tender. He catered to you and always had a hand on you, silently claiming you as his to everyone in the bar. He’d whisper sweet nothings in your ear when he saw another man looking, making you squirm. He was your favorite by far, the way he so gently held you, kissed you. His actions were tender, the fire only showing up if a man wouldn’t leave you alone.
“You ready doll?” Price’s voice sounded out. You nodded, leaning into him.
You all headed out to the bar, the night going wonderfully. You had beaten Ghost in a game of pool, had the bartender buy you all a round of shots, and more. The music had you swaying your hips as you lined up your shot in pool. You were against Soap now, the championships.
You were lining up to hit the 8-ball, your jeans tightening around your ass when you felt a pair of strong hands grope you. You smiled, prepared to see Price, but before you could turn around, your eyes met all 4 men across the table from you. All four of them looked angry. You fully stood up, turning around to see an older man, maybe a couple years older than Price looking down at you seductively. “Can I help you?”
“Your ass looked to delicious, I couldn’t help myself.” He licked his lips.
“I suggest you back off.” Your voice was matter of factly.
“Why? You gonna hurt me? A little thing like you?” He cooed. I couldn’t help but laugh at the man. “What’s so funny?” He smiled.
“I won’t hurt you, but they will.” Throwing my thumb over my shoulder to the four men.
“You okay honey?” Price’s voice purred beside me, his hand landing on my back.
The guy looked up to Price, who towered over him. “I don’t know, am I?” I said, smirking at the man.
“I was just telling her how pretty she looked.” He gulped.
Price chuckled. “By grabbing her ass? Nuh uh.” Price stepped forward. “Let’s go have a little talk.” Grabbing the man’s arm, he took him outside of the bar.
Soap ran to you, asking if you were okay. You smiled and nodded your head. “Yeah I’m okay Johnny.” You patted his bicep.
Ghost and Gaz stood by the pool table, watching everyone’s things, including Price’s car keys and your purse.
Soon, Price waltzed back into the bar. His hips swaying as he sauntered back over to you, swooping his arm around your waist and pulling you in. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.” He kissed the top of your head as you returned to your pool tournament.
A couple of weeks later, you were all out a new bar across town, Soap’s arms wrapped around your waist as you spoke to some people. He had won the rock, paper, scissors that night. Your eyes widened as you heard a familiar voice, “You!”
Your face turned as Soap straightened up to his full height, one of his hands remaining on the small of your back. Your eyes met the man from the bar that night with Price. “Who’s this man? You get around fast.”
His voice was confident, like he had caught me doing something wrong. I looked at Soap, who looked ready to pounce. The fire was in Soap’s eyes as he bared his teeth in a smile. “You like my lady? Like what you see?”
“She’s a fiery one she is, just look at her.” The man bit his lip as he made a curve motion with his hands to simulate the shape of your hips. Soap let out a low chuckle.
“Any man knows you don’t answer that question honestly.” He dead panned, Soap’s voice deadly. “Why don’t I make this easy on you and let you walk away unharmed?”
The other man licked his lips, unmoving. Soap took a step forward, his hand sliding off of you as he stood just next to you, his size defined next to you.
“Either you walk away or you never walk again.” Soap growled.
The man quickly cowered, eyes widened. “Where do you find these men?” He shouted before scampering into the crowd.
“Thank you.” I said, kissing Soap. He was always much more willing to do PDA than the others, really making it believable to those in the bar that you were a couple.
“Anything for you my dear.” Soap said sweetly. “Shall we ditch this joint?”
I giggled, grabbing at his chest. “Are you gonna do that thing with your fingers again?” I bit my lip.
We heard someone clear their throat as we both backed away from each other, looking to the other 3 men. “We’re right here ya know?” Ghost spoke.
Soap and I laughed as the others bursted out in chuckles and smiles.
“Ya we know.” You said, earning some more chuckles out of the men and an ass grab from Soap.
#captain price x reader#modern warefare 2 x reader#soap mactavish smut#soap mactavish x reader#tf141 x reader#simon ghost riley#johnny mactavish#john price#cod mw2
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Chapter 6- Undeniable
Summary: when your car breaks down, you’re forced to ask Frankie for help. You’re not sure what you hate more- that you have to ask him for help, or that there’s a part of you that maybe can tolerate him
Word count: 6.2k
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname, no use of y/n)
Warnings: Angst, tension (in a good way??!!), yearning (AHHH), teenage Frankie (and current day Frankie, for that matter) are down so bad, Santi and Benny play Dr. Phil
A/N: okay I said there would be smut this chapter, but I am a liar, and I am sorry 🤥 I flip flopped some scenes around and it ended up making more sense for some ✨things✨ to happen next chapter instead 🤷🏼♀️ I seriously love these two more and more every chapter, and this may have been my favorite one to write so far!! Thank you SO much for all the kind things you’ve had to say about this story- it really means more to me than you know 🥺💛 (sorry for any errors, I didn't have time to edit this chapter as well as I should have!)
All The Things We Never Said Masterlist
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Frankie, Age 18, Summer of 2007
“Jesus Christ, Morales, you got bricks for feet, or what?”
The Garcia’s newly installed basketball hoop had been a welcome addition to the neighborhood rotation of afterschool hangouts. Santi knows just as well as Frankie and Benny that it’s really nothing but a ploy to keep the boys occupied and out their parent’s hair, but the three have gladly accepted the olive branch Santi’s parents have extended to them, regardless of motive.
Now that the heat of late May has begun to sear off the pavement of Everett Street and the dwindling motivation of senior year is in full force, basketball has quickly taken over as the new after school activity.
Benny and Santi love it because it gives them a chance to get out the competitive angst they’ve had locked away since football season has come to a close.
Frankie loves it because it gives him something to keep him occupied until you come home from soccer practice.
Even then, he still finds himself anxiously counting down the minutes until your car pulls into the driveway, stepping out of the driver’s seat to give him that same goofy wave of approval that frees him from his friends’ constant bickering about where the three point line lays on the cement.
Ever since he told you he was leaving, there’s a part of him that debates forgoing basketball all together, just so he can make it to your house that much quicker when you get home. Now more than ever, he’s hyper aware of every second he has left with you, the internal countdown constantly nagging in the back of his mind before it’s four hundred miles that separate the two of you, not four houses.
Because now, not only does he have 74 days left to figure out how to say goodbye to his best friend, he has 74 days left to figure out how to tell her that he’s head over heels in love with her.
That’s what’s on Frankie’s mind as the pass Santi’s thrown at him rolls right past his shoes and down the driveway.
No shit, he’s got bricks for feet.
“Helloooooo? Earth to Frankie? You gonna get the fuckin’ ball, or what?” Santi shouts, wildly waving his arms, trying to snap his friend out of whatever weird daydream he’s stuck in.
“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, sorry.” Frankie stammers, half jogging for the bouncing ball, tossing it back to Benny, also barely paying attention enough to keep the rubber from smacking him upside the head.
“Fuck, dude, you tryin’ to kill me, or somethin’? A heads up would be nice next time!” Benny scoffs, trying to downplay the fact he’s nearly just shit his pants from the ball that came out of nowhere and almost took him out.
“S-sorry. My bad.” Frankie grimaces, sheepishly running his hand through his thick, messy curls before rubbing the back of his neck.
Santi and Benny exchange confused glances with each other before turning their attention back to their clearly pre-occupied friend.
“Hey, you good, man?” Santi asks, scrunching his brow at Frankie’s tortured scowl.
“Yeah dude, you’ve been like, super out of it the past couple of days. Everything okay?” Benny adds. He tries to discreetly nudge Santi, givinging him a look that’s meant to ask if there’s something he’s missing. The best Santi can give him back is an ambivalent shrug, just as lost as his friend as to why Frankie’s mentally residing on another planet.
“Yeah. I’m- I’m fine.”
Sure, Santi and Benny aren’t as emotionally mature as their friend, but they also aren’t stupid. It’s obvious there’s something he’s keeping from them, and they’re far too relentless to let it go until they find out.
“Dude… C’mon.” Santi prods, taking a step towards Frankie to poke him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, spill the fuckin’ beans, Frank. What the hell’s goin’ on?” Benny chimes in, following Santi’s lead with another forceful poke.
“It’s nothing! Jesus, will you drop it?”
Santi smirks at how agitated Frankie’s become, spending enough years with his friend to know there’s one thing, and one thing only that’s got him this worked up.
“Is this about Kenz?”
Frankie’s eyes dart rapidly between his friends, the sky and his feet, too afraid to settle in one place as he’s consumed by his own silence, crossing his arms over his chest as he braces himself to defend against the onslaught he’s about to be faced with.
He could lie, say no, keep arguing with Santi and Benny until he’s blue in the face, but he knows it’s no use. Deep down, he has a feeling they already know what he’s going to say. He also has a feeling he’ll never go a day for the rest of his life where they won’t give him ten pounds of shit for it, but Frankie’s desperate. If he doesn’t figure out what to do, there’s a good chance he just may explode.
“You have to swear you won’t say anything about this to anyone.” Frankie sternly sighs, eyeing down his friends with a deathly glare, “Swear you won’t.”
“We swear, man.”
“Yeah, we swear.”
Benny and Santi nod in agreement, too shocked at his agreement to tell them anything rather than asking them to fuck off and leave him alone. They wait in patient silence as Frankie takes a long, shaky deep breath in.
“I um- fuck. Fuck.” He stammers, terrified to hear himself admit what he’s had locked away in his brain for years out loud for the first time, “I’m uh- I think I’m in love with MacKezie. I think I’m in love with her and I don’t know what to do.”
Frankie’s mortified by the silence from his friends in the seconds that follow. He’s even more mortified by their howling laughter that comes after that.
“That’s it? Oh, thank God!” Santi cackles, him and Benny clutching their chests to try and keep themselves standing, “Dude, I thought you were gonna say something fucking crazy. You looked like you were gonna fucking throw up.”
“W-what? Santi, did you not just hear what I fucking said? I literally just told you-”
“That you’re in love with MacKenzie? News flash, Morales, we’ve known you’ve been in love with her since like, the eighth grade. Holy shit, I can’t believe you finally fucking admitted it!”
Frankie’s face grows hotter by the second, his cheeks ablaze with bright reds and pinks, not sure if he’s more embarrassed by what he’s admitted, or the fact that he’s worked himself up for weeks to finally tell his friends something they’ve already known for years and Frankie was too blind to realize it.
“Well, okay- I just- what am I- what am I gonna do?” Frankie stutters, throwing his hands up to the sky, very aware that the admittance of his love for you is only a small part to his greater problem.
“Whatta you mean, what are you gonna do?” Benny questions, he and Santi still giggling over how frantic and flustered Frankie still was.
“It’s not fuckin’ rocket science, Frank.” Santi smirks, giving him a playful nudge, “Just tell her that you love her.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind, Santi?! I can’t just tell her I love her, that’s- fuck, that’s crazy!” Frankie’s all but shouting at his friend for what feels like the most outrageous idea he’s ever heard, crazily pacing up and down the driveway, as if he’s asking his friends for advice on where to hide the body he’s just killed.
“And that would be crazy because….?” Santi teases, anxiously awaiting whatever ridiculous answer Frankie has to finish off the rest of his sentence.
“Because?!” Frankie asks, storming so fast up and down the driveway, he’s about to make fresh cracks in the concrete, “Because, b-because- fuck, Santi, what if I tell her that I love her and she doesn’t feel the same way? What if I ruin our friendship forever and then I get my fuckin’ heart broken and lose my best friend? Jesus Christ, that’s why.”
“You wanna tell him or should I?” Benny proposes, shrugging at Santi.
In a silent agreement, Santi gives Benny a nod, taking a step towards Frankie to grab him by the shoulders, forcing him to stand still enough to capture his full attention.
“Frankie, lemme ask you this.” Santi pauses, bringing Frankie’s gaze from his feet up to his friend, thinking for once in his life, he may actually be willing to give him some serious advice.
“Yeah?”
“Are you blind, or are you stupid? ‘Cause I think you may be both.”
“What the fuck, dude?!” Frankie scoffs over Santi and Benny’s snickering, outstretching his arms to push Santi off of him.
“Damn, maybe he is.” Benny grimaces overdramatically, playing into Santi’s theatrics.
“Fuck off, Benny!” Frankie frowns, starting to regret asking his friends for help.
“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I really have to spell this out for you.” Santi sighs, squeezing his temples between his thumb and index finger.
“What!?” Frankie presses, nearly fed up with his antics.
“Shit, you’re right Benny, he may be dumber than we thought.” Santi snorts before quickly turning his attention back to Frankie, “Frankie… You do realize MacKenzie’s in love with you too, right?”
Frankie feels his heart stop. He’s partly convinced it’s flatlined indefinitely. The only thing that’s keeping him alive is even the tiniest chance that what Santi has to say is actually true.
That maybe, just maybe, you love him, too.
“Santi, c’mon. Be- be fucking serious. There’s no way.”
Frankie won’t let himself believe anything yet, no matter how badly he wants to. Knowing Santi, he wouldn’t be shocked if he’s trying to pull him in to some sick sort of joke, but the looks on his, and Benny’s faces is all the earth shattering reassurance Frankie needs to know that Santi’s telling the truth.
“He’s being serious, I swear.” Benny chimes in, trying to aid in convincing Frankie.
“Think about it, Frank. The two of you spend every fucking second together. You’re basically already dating without actually dating. And not even just because of the fact you like, pretty much go on dates to the movies or ice cream, or whatever. Didn’t you say she cried for like, an hour when you told her you were leaving?”
“I- I mean, y- yeah, I guess.”
“Or the fact that she’s never dated anyone else and has had you locked in as her prom date since last year.” Benny adds.
“Don't even get me started on the fact you two cuddle every time we watch a movie together, because God forbid you’re not touching each other for an hour and a half.”
“I- I- I- don’t know. I mean, sure, yeah, but just because she does that doesn’t mean she’s in love with me!”
Frankie can feel his insides churn, like someone’s put them in a blender and cranked it on high. He’s not sure what’s more terrifying- that you do all those things but you’re not in love with him, or that you do all of them because you are.
He quickly comes to determine the second is much scarier than the first. Mostly because there’s a part of him that believes maybe you’re just as in love with him as he is with you.
“Fuck, I think I’m gonna throw up.”
Frankie’s knees wobble as he sinks to the ground, bottom hitting the pavement with a thud.
“Well shit, don’t do it on the driveway, my mom’s gonna kill me. If you gotta yak, at least do it on the grass.”
Santi and Benny settle in on either side of Frankie, the trio of boys squatting at the edge of the driveway. Frankie buries his head in his hands, scrunching his face so hard into his sweaty palms that maybe, some sort of reasonable idea will pop into his brain if he squeezes hard enough.
“You guys really think she likes me? Like, actually?” Frankie asks, peeking his head up to look back and forth between Santi and Benny.
“Uh, yeah.” The pair agree in unison, each giving their friend a pat on the back, trying to keep their all-knowing laughter at bay to soothe Frankie through his distress.
“Fuck. Holy shit. So- So what do I do? Just- Do I just tell her?”
“I mean, I’m no love guru, but you like, may wanna be a little more subtle than that.” Benny snickers, giving Frankie a little nudge, “I mean, do you wanna tell her?”
“Yeah. Fuck. Fuck, I wanna tell her so bad.” It spills out of Frankie’s mouth without any hesitation. The more he thinks about it, the more sure he is.
“Like, you’re already going with her to prom and stuff. You could do it then?” Santi suggests with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“Damn, alright, Mr. Romance over here with the advice.”
“Shut up, Benny. You got any better advice? At least I’ve fuckin’ had a girlfriend before, you dingus, have you? Didn’t think so.”
Frankie’s completely blocked out their bickering, lost in his own train of thought, where all he can picture is you- Your smile, the little strand of hair that you tuck behind your ear when it falls in your face, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh, the little curl in your lips you get when you smirk at him when he tells a stupid joke.
How badly he wishes his lips could meet yours to feel that smirk pressed against his face.
“Do… Do you- Do you think I should kiss her?”
“Jesus Christ, Frankie, what are we, twelve?” Yeah, man, fuckin’ kiss her.” Santi snorts, Benny joining in with muffled laughter in his throat at the innocence of his question, “God, with how nervous you sounded, I thought you were gonna ask if you should like, have sex with her, or somethin’.”
It’s then his brain truly short circuits, his heart about to fall out of his ass and lump in his throat the size of a softball.
He has enough balls to admit he’s thought plenty of times about kissing you.
But right now, he certainly doesn’t have enough balls to confess to his friends, (or even to himself, for that matter) he’s spent just as much time thinking about doing a lot more than just kissing you.
He’s spent even more time thinking about just how badly he wants to.
One step at a time, Morales.
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You, Present
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…”
Turning over your ignition to the sound of empty rattles once wasn’t anything to worry about.
Turning it over twice to the sound of silence you could chalk up to bad luck.
But after six different attempts to start your car to no avail, you were fairly certain your issue wasn’t based solely on user error.
“Fuck…” You huff to yourself, yanking out your keys and slamming the driver’s side door behind you as you storm back into the house, now in a race against the clock to get your car not only started, but driveable enough to get you to work on time.
It’s the stupid things like this you haven’t mentally prepared yourself for when it comes to your father’s impending death- Not having a built in mechanic at your disposal to help solve your car issues when something goes awry. It seems selfish to take from the few precious moments you have left with him to pester your dad about your car troubles, but you know for a fact, your dying father has a better chance of diagnosing your issue from his bed than you do hands deep in the engine.
“Hey, Dad.” You grimace, gently rousing him from his half-awake state in front of the TV, “Dad, can I ask you something, or are you too busy dying?”
Your joke is enough to crack a sleepy smile in the corner of his lips, grunting as he turns his head over to see you hunched over the edge of his bed.
“Depends. Is it worth my time, or should I go back to decaying?” He fights with everything in him to let out the softest laugh, a sputtering cough following as his chest rises and falls, trying his best to not let his final days prevent him from being the helpful dad you’d always known.
“My car won’t start. Do you have any idea of what it could be?”
“You gonna wheel me out to the driveway to have me figure it out?”
You both know it’s ridiculous, what you’re asking him to do. You’re not sure what compelled you to think that he’d be able to help solve your problem, but your yearning for the normalcy that’s been absent in your life for so long seems to outweigh any logic.
“I think we could probably crank the bed high enough for you to look under the hood.” You shrug with a sad type of sarcasm, anxiously fiddling with your fingers to try and brainstorm a solution to your time-sensitive issue.
“You know there’s someone four houses down who is very capable of solving your problem who isn’t dying.”
For as hard as your dad fought for his half huffed laugher, he fights even harder for the smug smirk pinching the corner of his cheeks.
“Dad…” You let out a deep breath, trying to not let your eyes roll to the back of your skull from even pondering the idea of admitting to Frankie Morales that you need his help.
“Mackenzie Grace?” He questions back, pretending to be blissfully unaware of your reason for dramatic pause.
“Dad, you can’t be serious.”
“I am, actually. Dead serious. And right now, I’m at a point in my life where that statement can’t be any closer to the truth.”
Unfortunately, that’s an argument you can’t fight.
You sigh again, chewing at your lip to see if your brain can muster any other plausible solution before you admit defeat, but you know it’s no use. Your dad is kind enough to accept your silence as a white flag, sparing you the embarrassment of admitting he’s right. What he’s not kind enough to do, is to let you off without making sure he gets the last word.
“You can’t stay mad at him forever, honey.”
“I can, actually.”
Right now, your dad better thank his lucky stars he’s dying, because any other circumstance, and you would have already been halfway out the door before you put yourself through this conversation again.
“MacKenzie,” He pauses, the frail and wrinkled ends of his fingertips reaching out just enough to rest on the hand you have wrapped around the bar of his bed guard rails, “if I give you some dying words of wisdom, do you promise to listen, actually listen to what I have to say?”
You know he’s about to tell you something you have no intention of wanting to hear. You want so badly to lie, to say “yes”, just to appease him without really meaning it. But the guilty conscious eating you alive in the pit of your stomach won’t let you get off that easily.
“Yeah, I promise.”
It’s soft enough for only you and him, just quiet enough to keep the world out of your shared secret.
“Holding a grudge won’t make you any happier. It won’t change what happened, either. I’d be willing to bet he’s still holding one against you, too. There’s two sides to every story, MacKenzie Grace, and you can’t keep blaming him like you didn’t have a part in what happened, too. He’s already accepted he’s in the wrong for what he did. God bless the fact you ended up just as stubborn as your old man, but at some point, you have to get off your high horse and do the same.”
It’s unsettling, the feeling that washes over you- it makes every inch of your body twinge and wince in a strange sort of self-inflicted pain you can’t shake, the indescribable discomfort that makes you want to crawl out of your skin and evaporate into thin air. The tormented sensation stirring in your gut makes you want to scream and cry and run away, all at the same time.
Because it’s not the truth of your dad’s words alone that make you feel this way- you’ve come face to face with this truth more times than you’d like to count.
It’s the fact that for the first time, you’ve come face to face with the truth, and there’s a part of you that can accept it.
You stand there for another moment at the edge of his bed, eyes peeled to the ground, trying to find the words you’re too scared to admit. Maybe your silence is a loud enough confession.
“I’ll see you when I get back from work, okay?” You lean down and kiss his head, giving your dad’s hand a final, gentle squeeze before you’re halfway out the door, car keys in hand.
“I thought your car wasn’t working?”
Your dad has never been one for “I told you so’s” . The stifled smile and playful glisten in his tired eyes will do just fine.
“Bye, Dad.”
Your dad’s words echo in your brain as you begin your journey down the driveway, terrified by the tiniest amount of weight it’s lifted off your shoulders.
“Holding a grudge won’t make you any happier. It won’t change what happened, either.”
Maybe he’s got a point. But that’s easy to say when you’re only dealing with the idea of Frankie you’ve built up in your head, not when you’re about to come face to face with him in real time.
There’s a part of you that debates just walking to work. Hell, the hour walk it would take you to get to work would probably be easier than the thirty second walk you’re about to take four houses down.
You’ll be lucky if you don’t gnaw off your entire thumbnail by the time you make it to the Morales’s doorstep, trying to clench your fists as tight as possible with every step you take towards their house to attempt to keep your nerves (and nails) intact.
You’re not sure you’ve ever walked this slow to his house. There was once a time that you couldn’t sprint there fast enough, legs leaping over cracks in the sidewalk to meet Frankie at his front door. Now, it feels like you might as well be crawling with the time you’re trying to waste before you ring his doorbell.
You practically tip toe up the steps to the porch, like it’s some sort of crime to be at his house and you’re terrified of being caught. Your finger hovers over the doorbell, outstretched and ready to press, too frozen in fear to move the extra inch it will take to press the rounded button.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse under your breath, furrowing your brow at your inability to face his front door. You ball your free hand up to a fist, slamming your knuckles against your forehead with a sigh so heavy, you’d probably give that wolf from The Three Little Pigs a run for his money, “‘C’mon, MacKenzie, just ring the damn doorbell.”
Your heart stops as the tip of your index finger finally pushes hard enough to force the high pitched chime, forcing yourself to keep your feet planted on the doormat below you instead of booking it half way across town.
“One sec!”
The bellow of his voice from behind the door is enough to jumpstart the stand still of your heartbeat, so much so that in an instant, it’s gone from flatlining to nearly beating out of your chest.
At this point, even if you wanted to run, you’re not sure your body would let you.
As the knob turns and draws back towards the house, Frankie’s broad body fills the doorframe. He looks almost as frozen as you, so stunned by your presence, his tongue darts between his lips as a placeholder for the words he lacks.
“H-hey?” He asks it so cautiously, eyebrows scrunching in confusion while he looks you up and down, too scared to say anything else until he figures out why you’ve shown up at his front door.
“My um- My car won’t- I have to go to work and I can’t get my car to start.”
You don’t dare phrase it as anything other than a statement of fact. You’ll die before the words “Frankie, will you help me?” escape from your lips.
“O-oh. Shit.” He cocks his head, the pinch of his face immediately easing along with the rest of his body, standing up a little straighter as he leans against the doorframe.
“Sorry, i-if you’re busy or whatever, don’t feel like you-”
“No- No, I mean, yeah, no, I don’t- shit-” He stutters, pausing as he shakes his head with a little laugh at the ground, trying to compose himself before he trips over his words again, “Yes, I um- Yeah, I can help.”
“O-okay. Thank- Thanks.” You try to fight the tug you feel in your lips creeping towards the corner of your cheeks that mirrors the grin Frankie’s trying so desperately to hide on his face.
The two of you stand there for a moment, feet wriggling in the tips of your shoes and fingers twiddling in your pockets, using every ounce of strength you have to ignore the heat flushing through your cheeks that makes you want to hate him just a little bit less.
It’s hard to suppress when Frankie’s trying to keep up his facade with the world’s worst poker face as he’s beaming ear to ear.
“Let me just uh- Lemme grab some stuff and I’ll meet you over there?” He asks, tiptoeing around what seems too good to be true.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, sounds good.”
You give each other a little nod before he disappears behind his door. You tilt your head to the sky, eyes closed as the deepest sigh of relief you can take escapes your body. It feels like the first gasp you take when you peak above the surface after holding your breath underwater, remembering what it feels like to finally breathe again.
It takes everything in you to pretend you don’t feel the strange pang in your chest as you watch Frankie walk to your house after you’ve made it back to your driveway, his gray shirt clinging to his biceps as he carries over his bucket of tools and brown curls spilling out from under the worn, Standard Oil hat he’s obviously still refused to throw away.
You lean against the hood of your car, arms crossed over your chest, trying your best to seem ambivalent about the whole ordeal.
If you were nominated for an Oscar in the “Pretending to be aloof in front of Frankie Morales while he fixes your car” category, you most surely wouldn’t be winning.
“Hey, again.” He grins as he sets his tools down, mirroring your stance to cross his arms over his chest.
“Hey, again.” You parrot.
“So, uh… Your car?” Frankie asks, nodding over to the vehicle you’re leaning on.
“Yeah, uh- yeah, I don’t know what’s going on. I tried starting it like, five different times and it doesn’t do anything. I’ve never had this happen to me before and of course it’s when I’m trying to leave for work.” You shrug, trying to play into the fact you at least tried to do something before coming to find him.
“Huh. Alright, well, lemme see what I can do, okay?” He nods again, leaving your fingers to play with your sleeves to keep yourself occupied, instead of staring at him, mesmerized by the way you can still hear the gears turning in his brain as he processes. “Can I uh- is it okay if I have the keys?”
You fumble through your pockets, digging out your keys to place them in the palm of Frankie’s outstretched hand, the linger of your touch on his skin just long enough to make you subtly jerk your arm back in embarrassment.
You step back to let Frankie slide past you, watching him try to squeeze himself into the driver’s seat to start your car, half his body still hanging out the open door.
“Are you- are you not teaching anymore?”
“Wh- huh?” His question catches you off guard, the scowl of confusion painted across your face making him quickly elaborate before drawing his attention back to your car.
“You just uh- sorry, you said you were going to work. It’s 5 P.M. on a Thursday in June, so, ya know, figured you probably weren’t going to school.”
He gives the key one more turn before sliding out of the car, carefully passing your keys back off to you before making his way to open the hood. You cautiously follow behind him, arms still crossed against your chest as he props the front of the car up to reveal the engine.
“Oh. Uh- no, yeah. No, I’m uh- I’m still teaching. Normally I do summer school to make some extra money, but because of my dad and everything and not being home, it just, ya know, I just couldn’t. I still wanted something to do to make money and keep me busy, so um, Katie’s Dad still owns The Parrot’s Nest on 14th, so I asked him if I could just do some part time waitressing and bartending and stuff. It’s nice ‘cause he’s been really flexible with everything going on.”
Your eyes dart to the ground as Frankie shifts his view from the inside of the car back to you. The air fills with a heavy pause, like neither of you are really sure how to react to the fact you’re managing a semi-civil conversation that’s more than just one word responses.
Frankie lets out a quiet huff, trying to hide the soft smile curling in the corner of his scruff covered cheeks before turning back to the car, silently tinkering for a few moments before mustering up the courage to speak again.
“That’s nice of him. Didn’t even know that place was still around.” There’s a little grunt as he leans deeper into the car, reaching around to search for some sort of part he wants to check, “I’m uh- I’m glad you’re still teaching, though. That’s um, that’s good.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Your hands have shifted from folded across your chest to in your pockets, a subconscious move you’ve made as a brick from the wall you’ve built between yourself and Frankie Morales seems to crumble without you realizing.
You let him work for a few more moments before he’s diagnosed your issue, carefully closing the hood and wiping the engine grime on the towel from the tool bucket he’s brought with him.
“So uh- good news is, you just need a new battery. Easy fix. Bad news is, your battery’s dead, and your car’s not gonna start without a new one.” Frankie shrugs, hoping he’s not pushing his luck with the little laugh he gives himself at his joke.
“Fuck. Okay, uh- shit, okay.” You mutter, not necessarily upset with Frankie for delivering the news of his discovery, but angry at the fact you need to buy a new car battery and have no way to get to work. “Um, sorry, give me a second, I’m gonna call Jim and let him know that I can’t make it in today.”
“I- I can drive you.”
You’re sure Frankie’s just as surprised as you when the offer comes out of his mouth, freezing your thumb over your boss’s contact you’re about to dial. Frankie clearly interprets the look on your face as one of skepticism about his idea, quickly trying to backpedal before he preemptively digs his own grave.
“No, I mean, um- if you want. I can- I can drop you off. So you, uh- that way you don’t have to miss work.”
“No, Frankie, it’s fine, you- you already helped figure out what’s wrong with my car, it’s not a big deal, don’t wo-”
“I want to.”
You don’t mean for your sigh to be as audible as it is. It only seems fair, considering there was no world in which you ever considered having to contemplate not only asking Frankie for help, but also spending a fifteen minute car ride together so he can drop you off at work. You chew at your bottom lip as you contemplate the lesser of two evils- be stuck in Frankie’s metal death trap of a car, forced within a 3 foot proximity of him for the entire ride, or miss out on the most hours you’ve been scheduled in the past two weeks for money you really do need.
Swallowing your pride is the toughest pill you’ve had to swallow in quite a long time.
“Fine.”
It’s not even your answer you think shocks him the most. It’s how little he had to argue with you to agree.
You want to roll your eyes at the little smirk of satisfaction he gives himself, knowing you’ve gone 0-2 on your hardened stance of despising Frankie’s guts since talking with your dad. It only stings more that you’re sure Frankie is getting endless amounts of satisfaction that you’ve given into him so quickly.
But fuck, if you didn’t miss that stupid, goofy grin of his when he knows he’s beaten you at your own game.
“Only if your car isn’t gonna kill us first before we get there.” You groan, eyeing down Frankie’s beater truck he’s been driving since he got his license. It was in questionable shape over a decade ago, you’re not sure what kind of deal Frankie made with the devil to keep the hunk of junk up and running.
“She’s fine. Haven’t managed to kill you in her yet, have I?” Frankie rebuttals, grabbing his tools as you follow behind him towards his car.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” You sigh, shaking your head in annoyance that Frankie’s still driving this damn thing on principle alone, “How the fuck is this thing even still running?”
“‘Cause you don’t give her enough credit. Got me here from North Carolina just fine.” Frankie scoffs, the two of you settling into your perspective seats inside his truck.
His comment makes you frown at your lap as you buckle your seatbelt, not because of the sass he’s inflicted, but because it reminds you that he’s moved himself states away just to further the distance between you two.
“S-sorry, it was meant to be a joke.” Frankie mutters, looking over at you as he drives and noticing the way you’ve gone quiet, eyes peeled to the ground.
“No, I know.” You reply back, anxiously digging under your nails with your stare still locked on your feet. “How’s um- how’s North Carolina?”
“Oh. Um, It’s uh- It’s fine, I guess.”
It’s then you notice Frankie’s realized the reason for your silence, uncomfortably fidgeting in his seat and grip tightening around the steering wheel as he processes your disappointment.
It’s hard to decipher what he means by “fine.” Fine, like he’s more than fine and doesn't want to rub it in your face how well he’s doing? Fine, like actually a normal amount of fine and he just has nothing of interest to report? Fine, like he’s not fine at all, but doesn’t have the balls to admit it to you?
With the way he can’t bring himself to look at you, it has to be the first or third option. You’re not sure which one is worse.
You’re also not sure why you feel so compelled to find out.
“You still uh- doing um, mechanic stuff for the Army?” You ask, glancing over just enough to watch Frankie’s fingers drum against the steering wheel.
“Yeah. Helicopter maintenance, mostly.”
It’s still not enough to give you the definitive answer you’re looking for. You’re too stubborn for your own good to just quit while you’re ahead. Because of all the questions you could have asked him, the one you ask him next is like voluntarily putting a gun to your head and asking him to shoot.
“Are you, uh- you um, seeing anyone? Samantha, or whatever her name was?”
It’s the first time he locks eyes with you since you’ve gotten in the car. Frankie looks you up and down, tongue running across the top of his teeth under his lips and raising his brows just enough to let you know you’ve got his attention.
Every second of silence that lingers before his answer only leads you to believe he’s trying to let you down slowly before he has to pull the trigger. You brace yourself for the bullet.
“No. I uh, shit- I- Sarah and I broke up a while ago. After um, after Santi’s wedding, actually. No, I um, I’m not seeing anyone. Haven’t really been since then, I guess.”
Your body stays tense, still bracing yourself for the inevitable blow, but it never comes. Not only has Frankie taken his finger off the trigger, he’s put away the gun all together. You’re so stunned you’ve made it out of the question alive, you aren’t quite sure how to react.
“O-oh. I uh- I didn’t know.”
“Are- are you? S-seeing anyone?” He stutters, the words heavy in his throat as he gulps.
“No. After how things ended with Liam, I just- I haven’t either.”
It’s uncomfortable, the silence that fills the car and seeps between you. Not quite awkward, not quite upset, not quite relieved, either. It’s heavy, like a backpack full of bricks you’ve had strapped to your shoulders that you refuse to put down- you’d rather keep burdening yourself with the weight than just take it off, too used to the ache it spreads to every inch of your body.
Maybe, the silence is so uncomfortable because you’re starting to realize how stupid it is to let these types of things keep weighing you down.
Holding a grudge won’t make you any happier. It won’t change what happened, either.
You’ve been so lost in your own head, you’d barely even realized the car had come to a stop, the soft orange and pink glow of The Parrot’s Nest sign illuminating the inside of Frankie’s truck with muted neon snapping you back to reality.
Your hand wraps around the door handle, ready to break free into the parking lot before Frankie’s voice stops you.
“What time are you done?”
You look back over your shoulder, taken aback.
“Why?”
“So I can pick you up.”
It’s so matter of fact, like he had never contemplated any other option from the moment he’d offer to drive you, his soft, brown eyes sinking as you shake your head at him.
“Frankie, it’s fine. I can have someone else drive me ho-”
“Please?”
Your head wants to say no. It wants to push open the door with a half hearted “thanks for the ride” and pretend like the past 15 minutes had simply never existed, wiping the strange pang in your chest and swirling in your stomach from its memory.
Apparently, your heart’s decided it has other plans.
“I’m done at ten.”
“Then I promise to be back here at ten.”
Frankie Morales is a man who’s broken many things.
Your heart, your trust, your friendship.
But out of all the things Frankie has broken, he’s never broken a promise.
And that’s how you know at ten o’clock sharp, you’ll find his beat up Chevy in the parking lot of The Parrot’s Nest, waiting for you.
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Tailgating
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Uptight Benji tries to force his way though rowdy tailgaters to get to work. How was he supposed to know the stupid game was such a big deal? Seems he’ll be learning in short order after having a beer or two to take the edge off.
Spin on one of my favorite older stories on here, also named Tailgating! Slightly shorter fratification, burps and personality changing sunglasses ahead! Also only a few days left to vote for the Talismen finale, there's a clear favorite but anything can happen! Enjoy this little ode to sweaty bodies and hoppy breath! -Occam
The roads around the campus library are closed for the big game, but Benjamin was still determined to host his Office hours. He knew there was some kind of football thing today but had no idea it was apparently the biggest of the year. Some bowl game or massive rivalry or something, He didn’t care- doesn’t and will never care, in fact . He’s done good work avoiding the jeering crowds of drunkards so far as he sneaks across campus. Nearing the home stretch however it’s clear there is no way around. He must somehow power through the horde.
Benji makes it a few good yards into the festivities unassailed, dodging elbows and spilled drinks like the best of them. Unfortunately the prudish academic takes time to grimace and sneer when one of the behemoths burps loud enough to make him flinch, pausing just long enough to become irrevocably caught in the chaos.
Like an animal held by the scruff of its neck, Benjamin finds himself in the clutches of Bruiser, president of the school’s new Beta Delta Alpha chapter. “Yooo lil bro! What’s up? Looks like you’re not havin’ a good time?” Stuck in a meaty hand and between instincts of snide remarks and swift flight he opts for smarmy sarcasm, “Nono you bovine brute I’m having the time of my life on this commute.” Bruiser narrows his eyes, “hmmmm I dunno dude.”
Feeling the man’s sweaty, surely beer-covered palm soaking through his shirt he swats at it, “Ugh, the idea of work foreign to you hedonistic morons?” Bruiser’s lip twitches into a smile as he reaches to grab something with his free hand, “ohhh you’ve got work lil bro?” The hairs on the back of Benji’s neck stand on end as he feels something shift in the man’s expression and he tries to bolt away, Too Late.
Bruiser forces a massive mirrored visor onto Benji’s eyes and the prude freezes. His vision is shaded a dark burnt orange and his eyes scramble, the only remaining part he seems able to move himself. Bruiser releases his shoulder and pats his back, “Welcome to the party bro hahah!” Benji cannot see the man’s own eyes glimmering through his new visor, though as he leans in close all his senses are overwhelmed by how powerful the scent of beer is on his breath, “Here lil bro, let me help you chill out.” Despite disgust, despite fear, despite everything in him begging him to flee, the scent of beer on Bruiser’s thick breath fills him with an overwhelming thirst.
Benjamin doesn’t know how a tall boy ends up in his hand, but he can guess what is soon to happen when Bruiser turns to shout, “Yo bros! Lil Benj over here is gonna kill a tall boy in one gulp!” Through his tinted visor he sees the can raise to his lips, no one can see his eyes widen from fear as beer begins to pour into his mouth. Try as he might to slow the flow, to close his mouth, to not swallow he is totally unable to move. And then, his eyes lose focus for half as second, why would he want to stop drinking it?Did he like beer? As it continues to flow into his mouth he can’t imagine not liking it? ‘S pretty good. Despite his body willing itself through the can, in its paltry state he could never manage to drink this quickly. Rivulets of the swill spill out of his cheeks and down his jaw, staining the recently shaved upper lip and cheeks darker, a mustache never given the chance to thrive begins to sprout. Benji’s throat burns from the effort of racing to down the drink, through with each gasping swallow it becomes easier, more adept at performative drinking competitions, tight to the can his mouth widens into something cruder, made to be loud. And then he’s done
Tossing the can to the ground without a care Benjamin stands, swaying back slightly despite having only had the one drink. His hand pats his stomach and it jiggles slightly, the tall boy must be expanding in his stomach or something. He grimaces as it grumbles, his neck reflexively tenses as he feels a burp coming up. He can’t, no surely not- the glasses squeeze tighter on his head and he laughs once, wouldn’t it be funny though?
Bruiser watches with as smile as he sees the meek man’s torso begin to fill out as he fights the urge to burp. Beneath the visor his eyes surely go glassy as his midriff is exposed and soon enough covered by a treasure trail climbing up towards his chest. Buttons begin to pop from the beer-stained collar of his shirt as something a little less defined than pecs begin to hang on his chest. Impatient with the nerd’s hesitation, Bruiser steps in and pats the man on the back.
With the slightest encouragement from his bro, er- from this frat bro, Benji lets loose. *BRGURRRP* It lasts a few seconds, it’s not alone *BUURRP* Immediately Benji’s mind returns and he again tries to take control of piloting the machine that is his body. His arms feel heavier as they hang limp from his shoulders, his neck falls back as from another back pat and the shouting of Bruiser he burps again, *BURRP* shorter, deeper. He feels his arms straining his sleeves and a gut that shouldn’t be there pushing against the buttons of his shirt.
Stains begin to make themselves clear in his pits as he grows sweaty from the effort of, drinking? Growing? Struggling to keep his mind? His declining mind accelerates as the smell of his own musk begins to assail his nose. He’s unable to fight the urge to laugh as a hand unfamiliar, clumsy and thick scratches into his pits. He has the clear memory of putting deodorant on his almost hairless pits this morning before leaving the house for, uh- surely not to come here right?
No no, he had something to do. It’s Saturday. Usually on Saturdays he has work? “YO BENJ!” Bruiser shouts into his ear, “YOU WANT ANOTHER DRINK?” Benji nods wordlessly as whatever shred of himself is left in his mind tries to remember. Yeah he had work, it’s why he’s wearing this button up- He looks down to see a stained shirt, skin clearly peaking through a litany of tears through. He grumbles as his head hurts, he scratches at his itchy chest as it begins to pattern with hair. Suddenly his nose twitches as he smells something.
Grimacing at the stink he moves to smell his own pits and laughs once more, unaware he’s caught himself in some perverse feedback loop. Man though, he would’ve sworn he sprayed some axe before heading out? He scratches his chin with his pit-sweat covered fingers as he remembers sniffing them at the house and flinching before spraying the forests with at least a few coats. Yeah he’d never leave for, uhh- looking down he sees the shirt has now completely shredded off, leaving him topless as his beer gut continues to fill out and shift
His once waifish treasure trail spreads to cover his thickening waist as he grows a beer belly that makes it clear this is not his first rodeo. Looking down at his meatier torso his mouth falls open as his struggling mind grinds slower, he’s not- this isn’t him. His body rocks as Bruiser returns and throws an arm around him, “Sorry it took so long BJ- You know how it be huhuh! Had to show a couple bitches who was boss!”
Benj reflexively raises a fist to bump his bro, discarding a bottle he can’t remember downing to do so, nor does he realize that he seems to be in control of his body once more. Scratching at his crotch he goes to grab the drink Bruiser brought him and he remembers he can always ask his main bro what’s up, “Yo uhhhh, Bruise? Did I have somethin’ tah do today?” Bruiser smirks as he hears the man’s plodding, clearly thoughtless voice, “Fuckin’ yeah bro! You had to show those fuckers who’s boss!”
BJ stares mouth ajar for a few seconds as his existence recontextualizes itself. Sure he’s a student but C’s get degrees huhuh, Bruise’ll have a job for him at his dad’s firm when he graduates anyway. The new tank’s mouth grows into a wide smirk as he remembers that the only thing college is about is having a blast. “YEAH DUDE!” All eyes turn as the man’s new voice tears through the tailgate party, “LET’S SHOW THOSE BITCHES WHAT A REAL FOOTBALL TEAM LOOKS LIKE!” Foam sloshes out of his cup as he raises it in the air, before pouring it on himself and shouting some more.
His resounding cheers are echoed by the crowd of people around him, many almost spitting images of himself and Bruiser. Burly beer soaked men guffawing and toned men only concerned with vanity muscles, all drowning themselves in jungle juice until the game starts. Most frats on campus have sororities over for the shindigs but not the ΒΔΑ guys, no their quarry is all those fuckers who think they’re too good to have a good time. BJ smirks as any prior desires are completely paved over by the idea of molding some pansy little fucker into a real man, just like him, just like his pres.
Indeed he and Bruiser go about the crowd like predators, hungrily seeking out people who were harangued to come to the game. Offering wallflowers drinks and watching as their hair bleaches platinum, pecs bursting through newly bought faux jersey’s. Giving frat-thirsty twinks a chance to become their quarry sweat stained sunglasses and delighting as they fill crop tops to bursting, new furry bellies and hairy below the belt bulges making their intentions clear for all.
In no time at all Bruiser has a platoon of brother’s behind him, all suddenly excited for the game and otherwise finding the newly stubbled mouths of their fellow brothers. The president’s eyes scan the rowdy crowd around him with glee, excited to sample his new brothers after the game, but none is he more excited to ravish than his new number two, BJ.
When kick off nears he bumps his new brother on the shoulder, the same he clutched when the fucker thought his prissy little job was important. “Yo bro, game’s about to start- Let’s head on in-” BJ’s glassy eyes wrinkle with a smile as he begins to stumble alongside his bro, excited to watch his team stomp. Excited to just watch another game. “LET’S FUCKIN’ GO BRO!” His drunken voice dull and louder than he could dream to near before meeting Bruiser
Even as Brusier clutches his ass his mind stays focused on the upcoming game, though his cock bulges in his shorts either way. His own hand clutches at his bro’s defined waist. God it’s been like a decade since the last rivalry game, and to watch it right by his Bruiser. Man, BJ wouldn't miss this for the world.
#male tf#mental change#male transformation#jockification#hair growth#dumber#reality change#muscle tf#masculinization#frat bro tf#fratification#musk tf#personality change
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Imagine Having To Patch Soshiro Up After A Kaiju Attack
Soshiro Hoshina X FemReader
Rating: T+
Warnings: Blood, injuries, mentions of death, teasing, and kaiju remains
Word Count: 1k
(A/N:) I am enjoying the Kaiju No. 8 anime immensely and it's giving me all sorts of ideas to write! I have several more Kafka ones in my drafts and I want to write more for several other of the male characters. So keep an eye out I may write your favorite dude! I'm also thinking about opening my requests back up in case anyone has any Kaiju No. 8 requests, even though my drafts are insanely full. We'll just see but until next time happy reading! ~Countess
The suits made by Izumo Tech were a marvel of innovation and technology. Designed to give the members of Japan's fiercest warriors; The Defense Force, a fighting chance against the Kaiju that plagued their country. But still the warriors were only human no matter how amazing the suit.
Your booted feet thundered against the broken asphalt, breath heaving in pants as you raced across the now quiet battlefield. Just seconds ago it was Hell on Earth as you and your fellow soldiers fought for your very lives. But now Kaiju matter was splattered against everything. It was going to be quite the mess for whatever cleaning crew was open to do the dirty job. The attacks had become more frequent here lately, that the few companies that specialized in Kaiju clean up were becoming overwhelmed to get the different attack sights back to some semblance of normalcy for the citizens. But even that problem was far back from your mind. Only one person had you running so hard after fighting so intensely. Soshiro had gone silent after dispatching some of the smaller ones with his blades. You knew he had sustained injuries, but for him to go quiet, it wasn't a good sign. There was closer Third Division officers nearby but you knew with whatever stamina you had left you could make it. Your worries taking over any rational thought in your mind.
Konomi echoed in your ear, leading you straight towards Soshiro's location. Her frantic directions wasn't doing much to calm your nerves, but as an officer you couldn't let your anxiety show.
"Just around this corner," Konomi said. You thanked her turning down your communication device as you skidded around a pile of rubble. There leaned up against what remained of a wall was Soshiro. He held his side, eyes closed, and protective mask discarded at his side. Though winded and exhausted from the long race here, you gripped your rifle tighter the sling hitting your neck and tangling in the wild strands of hair that had broken free. Blood coated Soshiro's face and the fact that he wasn't responding to footsteps coming closer was more than concerning. Fear was beginning to grip your heart, when you finally got at his side.
"Two cracked ribs and significant blood loss," Konomi's sudden voice through the comm caused you to jump. "He's not critical just yet but I do have the medics on route to your location."
"I can staunch the blood flow," you replied. "I'll try to get him conscious again too."
"Good idea. I'll keep monitoring his vitals and let you know if anything changes."
"Copy."
Unslinging the rifle from your neck, you set it close by in case any threats remained. You removed the small med pack from your belt and got to work. Tapping at his cheek, you started working on getting Soshiro awake. Several moments went by and it wasn't until you put pressure on one of his worse wounds did he finally groan.
"Vice Captain," you continued to pat his cheek. "Vice Captain Hoshina! Soshiro wake up!"
He stirred, bleary eyes blinking against the bright sunlight before his gaze finally found you.
"Welcome back to the land of the living sir," you sighed in relief.
"So I died," he groaned. "And here I thought I was immortal."
"Well you didn't die but you do have a long road to recovery. You're pretty banged up and look terrible. The Kaiju Captain blew to smithereens looks better than you."
"Officer (L/N)," Soshiro groaned more as you wrapped several wounds tightly in gauze, "did anyone ever tell you that your bedside manner is garbage?"
"We're out on the battlefield and you're not laying on a bed sir," you grinned before going back to placing pressure on a wound that was too large for bandages. "Beside manners don't exist out here."
"Fieldside manner then," he glared. "And if you press any tighter to my side you're going to stab my lungs with my ribs."
"That's not me. That would be your suit keeping you from jostling your cracked ribs."
"(Y/N)! Vice-Captain Hoshina's vitals seem to be stabilizing more. Medics are inbound and will be there shortly," Konomi updated you and you acknowledged her.
"You had me worried Soshiro," you sniffed, hands stained with his blood. You had turned your comm off so you could talk with him in private for just a moment. You both didn't have long anyway with the evac team so close by.
"Sorry," he grimaced. Righting himself up more he wrapped one arm around your neck and pulled you in tight. "I'm sorry I worried you so much. I take risks but this time my decision wasn't the right one."
You held him as best as you could without hurting him further, "I'm just so glad you're okay!"
You hated crying but the relief you felt, had you breaking down in seconds. Soshiro wasn't used to seeing you cry and it broke his heart. Always the strong soldier, you couldn't help yourself around him as you wanted him by your side forever.
"You're not hurt are you," Soshiro asked as he stroked the back of your hair.
"No." You breathed deep, calming yourself and wiped your eyes. "Does that mean that I have surpassed the great Soshiro Hoshina in skills?"
"Absolutely not. We both know that my blade skills leave everyone else in the dust," he scoffed.
"Yeah but I didn't decide to use my ribs to stop a kaiju punch."
"Shut up."
You laughed kissing his forehead quickly, as it was the only place not covered in blood, as the boots of the medics came closer.
"I'm glad you're okay," you whispered. Soshiro couldn't answer as he was suddenly surrounded by several medical officers. He nodded towards you as you picked your rifle back up and started to go join the other members of the Third Division. The battle wasn't over just yet as you needed to look for more survivors. But you felt the burden lift from your shoulders knowing that the man you loved was going to be okay and was in capable hands. The fight with the kaiju continued on but if you stayed by Hoshiro's side you felt like you both could make the world a better place together.
#Soshiro Hoshina X Reader#Soshiro Hoshina / Reader#Soshiro Hoshina#Kaiju No. 8#Kaiju No 8#Soshiro Hoshina Imagine#Kaiju No. 8 Imagine#Imagine#Not My Gif#My Writing
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