#i thought this was short enough to not need a cut but please lmk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magicalara · 2 years ago

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Mindless Chapter 1: Hate Me

Stress eating causes a hell of a time for a certain William T. Spears. Between the issues that comes mentally from putting on weight and his own friendships, he needs to fix himself, even if it kills him.

A series made by me and @eemoo1o-animoo where chubby!William takes on a new sphere of well...a lot of angst. TW for unspecified eating disorders eventually, body dysmorphia, and mentions of s3x (nothing explicit)

The link to the ao3 version can be found here

Please enjoy and lmk if I did something wrong story starts under the cut

The frigid cold of the winter always resulted in more work for the Collections Division in the Grim Reaper Dispatch. The colder it was, the more likely it was that people would die; and the more people died, the more paperwork and issues there would be for workers. Already short staffed, the last thing that any of the reapers wanted was more overtime on top of what they already have to do. Yet, overtime seemed to be the eternal fate for a grim reaper and so each one found themselves looking for their own ways to cope through the harsh winter ahead. For one worker, a manger of sorts by the name of William T. Spears, that coping mechanism included frequent snacking throughout the day. What he originally saw as a pack of cookies here and a bag of chips there quickly became a bigger habit full of stress eating; a habit which he thought would be easy enough to break.

After a year of endless snacking on the man’s part, it all came to fruition one day while William was getting dressed to go to work and he noticed the tear in the seam down his thighs, on his favorite pair no less. With a sigh and a cock of his head, he put it down to wear and tear and put the pants to rest, grabbing another one from the closet only to see how the vast majority of his pants were either in similar disrepair or on the verge of it. With each pair he held up to the light, he could either see the fabric thinning out or see the start of a hole already.

“How…” he thought aloud. He couldn’t even remember when this could have started. Sure, he might have had a few too many cookies here or there, but nothing that could cause anything like this, surely. William was sure that he could beat the habit and it wouldn’t cause any ill effects on his physical being. Though if he thought about it, his pants have started being a little tight on his waist. His collar has been somewhat constricting lately. Now noticing the holes, he was aware of how his thighs rubbed together even just from him standing there in his room. Stealing a glance at the clock, he pulled on the first pair of pants he found without any signs of tear and rushed out the door hoping to not be late. These thoughts could wait, paperwork, most unfortunately, could not.

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Thankfully, after a few hours of work, William was able to put the thoughts completely out of his mind. There was simply too much to do for him to be thinking about his body and all that was wrong with it. He couldn’t even remember the issues at all. In fact, the biggest issue plaguing him at that very moment was how he skipped out on breakfast and his stomach was starting to feel the effects of that. Deciding he could take a break, William got up with a grunt to head to the break room where he knew there would be a vending machine with a nice snack for him to have.

As he walked down the hallway, he could hear the voices of those obviously not doing what they were supposed to get louder. Generally ignoring it, he continued on his trek, thinking of what he should get. Perhaps some of those chocolate cookies he had last time, or the sticky marshmallow cereal bar he heard another reaper raving about earlier in the week. All the decisions to think about, until a voice slightly louder than the rest seemed to drift out from the crowd.

“Look at him, he’s going out again.” William vaguely recognized the voice as a new full reaper he had seen finishing their training not too long ago. Realizing that he was the reaper was talking about, he slowed his walking a bit to be able to listen more.

“For such a respectable man, he could really lose a few don’t you think?” they continued. Hearing the agreeing replies from others the first was speaking to, William sped his walking again, his brows furrowed as he focused on the floor in front of him. Was it really that noticeable? Were his thoughts from this morning truer than he originally pushed them off as?

William hesitated as he rounded the corner towards the break room, before walking past the entrance deciding not to go in after all. He made sure that he didn’t go back the way he came, even going down to a different floor entirely to ensure he didn’t run into anyone on the way back. If this was what they said when he could have heard them, what is it that they said when he wasn’t there entirely? There was no way his body was such a hot topic that so many people talked about him like that. On top of how unprofessional it was, it could even be classified as workplace harassment if he really wanted to do something about it. It just couldn’t be something so pertinent that others noticed that much to even notice his habits. He was better than that. He had to be.

The whole day, the thoughts of how others saw him came in and out of his brain. William thought of what his close friends must have thought. There was no way they all thought of him in that way did they? Surely not. After all, Grelle would still flirt with him. It wouldn’t make sense for her to continue pursuing him if she didn’t see him as the physically attractive man she had always been making advances on. Yes, surely if she didn’t think less of him then it was just a one-off event with a group of especially ruthless newbies who knew no better.

Yet, even while he clung desperately to that thought, he couldn’t help but notice the pain in his lower stomach from where his pants dug in when he stood after sitting for too long; couldn’t help but notice how his desk pressed into him a little more than usual. Even the arms of his chair felt constricting at one point. All of it becoming too much, William pulled himself out of his thinking by putting away the last of his files for the day to get home. Remembering he hadn’t eaten much all day, he chalked all this thinking to that. William left the office, deciding he’d pick up his favorite takeout on the way home, unconsciously taking extra paths to not have to approach anyone as he went.

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Condensation filled the small bathroom as William took his shower. He didn’t like to think too much about a routine or anything similar, preferring to treat it as an in and out situation. Today, though, as he stood dripping wet and naked in front of his mirror, he couldn’t help but stare.

Without his glasses on, he was but a silhouette. The same silhouette that he was used to seeing for years. He couldn’t see all of the little details, but he knew he had wide shoulders and a fairly rectangular body. He knew his legs weren’t particularly defined like those of some of his colleagues, but they worked just fine to hold him up. The body that William had come to be so familiar with over the half century (he was sure it was more, but his true age tends to escape him unless he thinks hard on it) was average, that much was true, but it was also him. His personality wasn’t much more than average, so he didn’t see a reason for his body to not have to match or outclass.

When he put his glasses on and wiped away the fog on the mirror, his green eyes first focused on his face. What he remembered as sharper angles and sharper expressions was now rounder than he knew. His cheeks fuller, his chin rounder and jawline practically nonexistent. William recognized his nose, which he vaguely remembered being told was his mothers, and the double irises he quickly had to get used to glowing green. The rest, though, the rest he almost couldn’t believe was his face. What happened to the glasses he had had for years that would slip down his face? He could practically feel the nose pads digging into the bridge of his nose, pinching it and keeping it still in ways he was not used to.

Moving down to scan over his midsection, he noticed how everything seemed to just sag more. His once flat chest seemed to jut out uncomfortably, not with muscle like he had seen some of the other men have, but with fat that sagged and jiggled if he moved too suddenly. He saw his stomach flop out over his waist. Sure, he could see over it when he looked down, but it was plenty more noticeable than it was before.

All along his skin, he noticed groups of red lines. He rubbed his hand over them and felt how they spread out from his skin. They were smoother than they looked, but still rough around the edges as they went from actual skin to the marks. He followed them over his stomach down to his thighs where he became much too aware of the feeling of them sticking together. The heat and residual water between them forming painful feelings when he shifts his weight, rubbing them against each other. Even his penis didn’t look the same anymore. Sunken in and hidden by folds in his stomach, if he didn’t think much about sex before, he certainly knew he couldn’t be seen as desirable anymore.

William grabbed and poked his skin until it stopped feeling like his anymore, but instead something akin to a mannequin he might see in a store. Even looking dead in the mirror faced with the reality that this was, in fact, his body, William couldn’t believe it. When did he get so…so big? At what point did the William T. Spears he was previously so accustomed to seeing in passing reflections become the thing he was seeing in front of him?

When he found he couldn’t stand to look at himself anymore, he walked out of the bathroom on shaky legs. Not even bothering to turn on the light or put on his night clothes, William felt around to find the edge of his bed before sitting down. There he sat, staring at everything else he could to avoid staring at his body more. He could barely even stomach calling it his body anymore. Needless to say, William didn’t get much sleep that night.

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The next morning, William, against his better judgment, decided to go into work. He spent the whole of the morning hiding out in his office, desperately hoping that no one would come in. The man couldn’t remember a time where he felt worse. Hair disheveled, shirt only half-tucked, and tie much looser than normal around his neck, William looked worse than he ever had in all his years as a reaper.

Thanks to his little panic from last night, he wasn’t feeling quite well either. Starting from when he woke up, his stomach kept turning and he had the ever-present feeling that he would vomit any minute.

As much as he wished to be alone for the rest of the day, however, it would seem that luck wouldn’t be on his side, for a little past lunchtime, he got an unexpected visitor. Ronald Knox wasn’t a slacker per say, he just had a tendency to “ask for help” as a way to get some others to do his paperwork for him. This day just so happened to be William’s turn.

When the two-toned haired reaper entered the office, he immediately knew something was wrong without even having to look at the elder. For one, the lights were off with the only source of it coming from the door that he had just opened. The only other time that Ronald had ever known William to turn off the lights, he had quickly learned to never cross paths with a Spears who had a migraine lest he be given overtime for the next week. Debating whether or not to turn around and ask someone else, he caught the sight of his disheveled boss and with a cock of his head decided if he was in for the penny, he might as well be in for the pound.

“Hey, Mr. Spears,” he tried greeting, “your lights all okay? You don’t usually have them off.” The younger gave what he hoped looked like an encouraging smile, that slightly deflated at the sigh the elder gave out in response.

“Yes, Knox, my lights are just fine,” William responded, more monotone than usual, Ronald noticed, “Is there something that you need?” As much as William might have appreciated that Ronald didn’t go straight for the kill in asking for a favor on any other day, today was not an optimal time for it. He’d much rather the boy said what he wanted and left him alone.

“Well, uh, I just wanted to know how you were doing. Feels like I barely saw you yesterday and I don’t remember seeing you come out for lunch. You usually have it in the break room with everyone else, but I can’t actually think of a time that you’ve come out at all today. Just a bit worried, y’know? Not quite like you. Not that I’d want to assume anything or, uh, anything like…that…” Ronald trailed off at the end realizing he was rambling at the hard stare that William gave him. Clearing his throat, he tried again.

“So, Miss Sutcliff is dragging me out to this restaurant she found the other day. I don’t know if she told you about it, but it’s been a while since we all hung out together,” Ronald said. William had a feeling he knew where this was going and, not liking the prospects, he could feel himself zoning out. The younger reaper caught the emptiness starting to take over the stare, but kept going, hoping to get something good out of his persistence.

“You should come along, sir,” Ronald smiled to try and be encouraging, and then hastily added, “Of course, only if you want to!” He gave a few more details of where they'd be meeting after their shift in case he wanted to join in the end and left with a small salute, muttering something about paperwork he had to finish.

William didn’t fully grasp what had happened, his mind going back to the dark place it resided the night before. Was it that obvious how bad his eating habits had gotten? If he went out with them, would they judge him for how much he ate? Did Grelle and Ronald also think the things that those others did yesterday? Did they also think of him as a pig? A fat pig who could lose a few?

At one point in time, there were plenty of people who’d compliment him on his looks. Now, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone came to him for something that wasn’t paperwork related. Even if he’d brush them off sometimes, people used to still come talk to him about non-work related things. When was the last time that had happened? When was the last time even Grelle had flirted with him? If Ronald noticed, surely she did as well.

Fat. Ugly. Useless. Undeserving. A waste of space. A pig.

William continued down this train of thinking for so long, he barely registered the knock at his door a few hours later. Looking up in shock, he saw a head of bright red hair peek through the opening, a lovely smile on the woman’s face.

“Will, darling!” she said in a sing-song, “Ronnie told me he invited you to come with us, you’re still coming aren’t you?” Waiting for an answer, she pouted slightly and tried to convince him to say yes.

Not fully understanding the question and still hazy from being pulled out of his spiral of thoughts, William nodded absentmindedly. Seeing the nod, Grelle’s face lit up once again as she squealed and invited herself into his office properly to grab his hand and promptly drag him to where Ronald was waiting leaned against a wall. Noticing the two coming closer, he nodded and they made their way down the road, Grelle taking the lead.

William didn’t bother taking his hand out of Grelle’s grip, letting her tug him to what he vaguely remembered being told was a restaurant she had found. It wasn’t until he was sitting in a booth on the opposite side of the other two reapers that he found his surroundings.

Sat on a velvety seat which he sunk into a lot more than he would’ve liked to notice, William could feel the table dig into his waist. It was an uncomfortable feeling that made him want to throw up the longer he thought too much about it. As to distract himself from the realization, he did his best to tune into the conversation that Grelle and Ronald were having.

“It’s so cute here, isn’t it, Will? Ron?” Grelle gushed to the group. “I absolutely fell in love with the décor—and the food is just to die for!”

William looked around, noticing the majoritively grey walls with accents of red decorations around. The tables and chairs were a dark oak that shined slightly with some sort of varnish with each of the chairs also having the same lining of velvet on the seat that the booths did. It would have been quite cozy, under any other circumstance (especially if William wasn’t stressing himself into an early second-grave).

When the waiter eventually came around to take their orders, William simply asked for water, distrusting of his ability to stomach anything that would only add to his corpulence. He could feel Ronald’s stare on him after he ordered, burning into his flesh; the younger reaper had worked out far more than he was comfortable with him knowing. Avoiding his gaze, but remaining painfully aware of it, William did his best to follow along with whatever office gossip Grelle had started telling them about.

Throughout the evening, he took reserved sips of his water. No one prompted him to give input on the conversation, so he didn’t give many tip-offs to go by. He preferred to just listen, anyway, as it meant he didn’t have to pay too much attention. However, it was this mistake that led his mind to wander back to everything that was wrong.

The night was gradually becoming more suffocating. Agitating.

Stupid little things kept building up: things like the table digging into him more and more as time went on, causing a dull pain to form in his fleshy abdomen; fluorescent lights which seemed to be getting brighter and brighter the more he looked at them; pins were being slowly hammered into his temples; his body flushing until he was burning at an uncomfortable level. It was hard to breathe—no wonder, too: pigs didn’t deserve to breathe.

Each discomfort that built up made William’s very perception fuzzy—each sway of his head was slow and sticky and not right. The corners of his vision were dark, and he barely had time to register the idle chit-chat between Grelle and Ron, still sitting in front of him and he couldn’t bring himself to fully listen no matter how many times he repeated the command to sober up and to focus in his head.

Get out, come on, Spears. This isn’t right. You’re not right. Something’s off. They’re talking; they’re happy talking.

Grelle laughed musically through the restaurant’s din, though what she said to Ronald just after was completely lost.

You’re not needed here. They can handle things without you. At least leave them something to pay with.

William was going to vomit. He could feel the bile rising. It made his hot flush burn further, incinerating his cheeks like paper to a flickering flame. Come on, Spears. Let’s go. Let’s get out of here. We’re not wanted.

Couldn’t breathe.

We need to go before we do something unfathomable.

William stood up abruptly, room now taking the opportunity to twist around like a cement mixer, and he started murmuring what he hoped sounded like an apology before fumbling his way like the clumsy old hippo he was out of the restaurant.

Couldn’t breathe.

Fresh air hit his face like a cold slap. He didn’t know exactly where he was, but knew if he could get himself to an alleyway, a bench, a park, anywhere else but there, he’d be okay. He had to be. If he wasn’t okay by then, then there was no hope. He’d be an irredeemable hog… that’s it—that’s what was wrong: everything. Everything was wrong. He was wrong. His mind was telling him so this entire time; when had his mind ever failed him?

William’s breathing was getting faster and faster by the second; the more steps he took, the more his legs seemed to melt into slush.

All he did was close his eyes, and the next thing he knew, he was falling, and then he managed to just barely register the feeling of two sets of hands gripping around his upper arms to hold him up.

This was it. He was going to throw up. He attempted to wrench his arms out of their grips as best he could, but to no avail. Due to his lack of energy, William quickly had to surrender and allow himself to be half-dragged to… well, he wasn’t sure. This could have been a kidnapping for all he knew.

Then, as soon as they got past what William recognized as the threshold of his apartment’s front door, he promptly lost all sense of consciousness.

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The next morning, William shot up with adrenaline stored from his panic attack the night before. Halfway up, he was met with a sharp pain as his head collided with another’s. Without his glasses, he couldn’t see the intruder’s face too clearly, however just a glance at the red blur of hair that surrounded him made it easy to guess who it was.

Sighing, William looked around in an attempt to gain his surroundings. Everything was still so blurry, so he couldn’t deduce much, just that he was on his couch, from what he could feel. Next to him, where he’d been laying, was a bright smudge of red.

Not scarlet, not crimson, red. And he knew that specific shade of red well: Grelle. And where he estimated her lap to be had… wait, had he been laying on her lap? His cheeks started to incinerate at the very thought—how- how forward. Looking around, he could see the silhouette of what—from the faint, absentminded whistling—might have been Ronald in his kitchen.

Ears finally tuning in to all the household clamor, William heard the tap of the sink running, and the garble of a story as the two spoke in fragments trying to explain the events of the night prior.

To him. They were talking to him.

Despite hearing the words, he couldn’t seem to catch more than a few fragments. Something about a restaurant, then water. Something about dragging.

You.

Couch.

William took a while to repeat what was being told to him, even finding himself muttering dumbly in reverb. And, then, finally he constructed the distant phrase: We carried you onto the couch.

They carried him.

Impossible. He was much too heavy for anything like that nowadays. Surely, Grelle and Ronald couldn’t have done that. The thought alone had him near hyperventilation again, blind eyes quick to widen.

Not here, not again. Not so soon. Don’t embarrass yourself again, Spears, come on.

“William?”

They’d think you’re pathetic.

“Mr. Spears?”

You’ll be taken out with no forgiveness. Put down forever.

“William!”

William’s head snapped up, blank mind startled as he stared at Grelle, who lowered herself to his face. She was worried, and about him no less.

This would not do.

It couldn’t do.

He had to get them to leave before he hurt them more. “Leave,” he finally muttered.

“Will, dear,” Grelle started.

“I said leave!” William stood up now, “Get out!”

Grelle moved to stand, hand gripping his shoulder in what would have been- could have been- a reassuring grip. Ronald moved forward quickly, defensively, as if he was worried about any sudden actions that William would take on Grelle.

William felt a twinge of surprise as the readability of the action overwhelmed him: did Ronald really think- think that he’d..?

No. He had every right to think that. Even William didn’t know what he was capable of doing.

“No,” William said firmly, grabbing his glasses from the coffee table and pushing Grelle’s hand away harshly. He glanced at her face and saw both fear and worry, then looked away, unable to bear it. He met Ronald’s gaze next, and the two looked at each other for a second, before William couldn’t stand to look at him either, turning around completely to look at the door.

“Neither of you are doing any good staying here. This is highly unprofessional, both of you. While the sentiment is highly appreciated, the two of you should have left me. Now, please, leave,” William said out of formality. His breathing was staggering again and he knew that if they didn’t leave soon—well—he didn’t know what he’d do.

The next movement was so sudden that it made him flinch: Ronald set down a glass of water he must have poured for William on the counter with a nod before slowly approaching Grelle, who now stood just a few paces away from him. Ronald had never seen his usually so fiery superior and friend so worried and quiet before, but knew that if he wasn’t the one to get them out of the apartment, it would never happen. Going up to her, Ronald gently put a hand on Grelle’s shoulder and led her out of the room, sparing a last glance at William.

“Very well, then. Good day, to you, sir,” he said. “Hope you’re feeling better soon. Oh, and—uh—try to drink some water, will you? It’s good for ya.” Then, he closed the door behind him, a gentle click filling the apartment, acting as a seal to William’s fate as he was, at last, left alone.

The minutes that passed afterwards felt like hours. Feeling twice his already-gargantuan weight, William collapsed back down onto the couch, a sickly sinking feeling in his fat, ugly chest. He grabbed the water Ronald had told him to drink, and took a dainty sip. Letting out a shaky sigh, William discarded the effort of making it through the too-cold, too-water water, and made it to the kitchen.

Knees weak and hands trembling, William went to pour the glass down the sink. He saw his pudgy fingers around the glass’ circumference; noticed the way that they smudged the glass. Were they even bigger than just two nights ago? Surely such a change wasn’t possible…

Yet, there he stood, head swirling as he stared holes into his too-big hands. The glass was held tight enough to cause his knuckles to pale. He glared at his thick sausage-fingers and thought back to what they’d once looked like.

Awful. Hideous.

He’d eaten his way into pigdom, and he’d no one to blame but himself. He compared the two versions of himself in his mind, his present form a true contradiction to the man he once was able to look in the mirror and see.

He had to reverse this, somehow.

Even if he couldn’t get rid of the disgusting lumps and bumps that now marked his flesh. Even if his skin was never the same, remaining an irreversible canvas of reminders ro never fuck up like this again.

You’ll do whatever you have to. Even if it kills you.

Nodding to himself, William turned to his small pantry and started pulling out everything he could see that would hinder him in his goals.

Even if it kills me…

Taglist: @whereismybiryani @it-calls-itself-steven @superjelly11

#william t spears #kuroshitsuji william #kuroshitsuji grelle #kuroshitsuji ronald #kuroshitsuji #black butler #grelle sutcliff #ronald knox #grell sutcliff #black butler grell #black butler ronald #chubby!william #mindless #grelliam #there will be eventual grelliam dw #angst #tw dysmorphia #hurt/no comfort

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hello-imasalesman · 3 years ago

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(the preppies: on russell northrop, gen, ~550 words)

The ever-present threat of the Old Bullworth Vale families’ increasingly incestuous bonds had physically manifested into one Russell Northrop. The only child and heir apparent of the Northrop family, Russell lived in a home so sizable his divorced parents lived comfortably on each side without ever having to see or interact with the other.

He was technically two or three years older than the rest of them, Bif couldn’t bother to remember, having been held back at various times throughout his school career. He had entered the Academy at the same time as his own class had, though the school considers him a sophomore still with the amount of credits to his name. Russell spoke ploddingly, in third person; his literacy rate was abysmally low. Northrop money could only go so far.

Russell was not Preppie material. Russell had the breeding, sure– too much of it, in fact– without any of the snobbery required to keep ones nose up and stratified away from the have-nots. He associated with those attending because they couldn’t afford a better school, because they’ve already got themselves kicked out of all the other boarding schools on the east coast. They shared the same remedial classes and perchance for cruelty and childish pranks.

Students were fickle and fairweather, and had the attention spans to match. It took magnetism to run a clique at Bullworth. And that magnetism could be bolstered by things like money, like favors, like strength, the same way any sort of politicking worked.

The Bullies were a Northrop original. Derby had honestly been impressed when they formed; Northrop was dull, but they were a ragtag, if persuasive, group. As soon as they shirked off their dark green school sweaters, they started to fight back. They didn’t take eggings or noogies lying down.

But they also weren’t untowardly aggressive. The Bullies targeted most of their anger on the same boys they had shared dorm rooms with, the ones who refused to assimilate and pick a clique. They teased the Nerds, but only in the immediacy of the Academy’s halls, never seeking out the Library. They didn’t vie for territory beyond the dismal, gasoline covered parking lot, and even that they acquiesced to the Greasers if some of their projects spilled out from the Auto Shop garages.

Derby called somewhat of a detente; none of them were allowed on any of their turf, of course, but no need to hunt them down like Greasers. It wasn’t lost on Derby that they also had some unfortunate strength behind them, unlike the Nerds.

Bif had been the only one of them brave enough to ever go toe-to-toe with Russell himself, and some of the other Bullies had brute, intimidating strength. Some of the softer members of the Preppies had fallen victim to marbles strewn across the ground, or the occasional two on one scuffle. Better to nip calls for outright violence, and keep it to taunting and snobbery. Bif agreed; he couldn’t be everywhere at once to back them up. It didn’t hurt that Gord had apparently struck up a friendship of sorts with the blonde-haired, muscled thespian Trent Northwick.

Derby had heard through the grapevine that they were officially in the Yearbook as a “social group of friends”. Obviously Ms. Philips would not allow them to write Bullies in a school-sanctioned publication, but she always let them be creative in concept ideas beyond the prerequisite pages and pages of student photos. That cemented them in the clique hierarchy; at least, for the year.

#canis canem edit #russell northrop #Derby Harrington #Bif Taylor #Bif Tremblay #*david attenborough voice* the lives of rich boarding school teens #bully cce #this was initially in left hand man but cut to not be too rambling #i can’t help it though the cliques are silly and fun. the animal kingdom scene a la mean girls #i thought this was short enough to not need a cut but please lmk #bully canis canem edit #bully se #bully scholarship edition

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kepamount · 2 years ago

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scary movie 👻

kepa arrizabalaga x reader x mason mount - a smutty ghostface one shot

warnings: explicit hard smut, sort of scary?? (y/n thinks she's being attacked by a murderer), potentially triggering content so please read at your own discretion!! sub!reader, dom!kepa & dom!mason, double penetration, anal, oral sex (m and f receiving), choking, slapping, dirty talk, degradation and praise, pet names, edging, overstim, crying, fingering, face-fucking, knife kink, mask kink, i think that's it but lmk if i missed something!

word count: 10.9k+ (she's big)

a/n: happy halloween bitches! i've literally been getting ready for a night out and i suddenly remembered that i wrote this lmao so here you go! this is not at all edited so pls be warned about spelling and grammar mistakes (i literally wrote this in a brainrot over night so it's probably almost unintelligible lol), and i don't have time to double check my warnings but this is kind of intense so pls pls be careful reading it! x

The shrill ringing of my phone breaks the calm atmosphere in the house, making me jump out of my skin. I pause the episode of Pretty Little Liars as I get up from the sofa, wineglass in hand, and I head into the kitchen, my phone sat on the counter. My heart lifts with the thought that it’s probably my boyfriend calling to let me know he’s on his way home from work, but disappointment floods through me when I see that the screen’s lit up with an unknown number. I reject the call with an irritated sigh before checking if Kepa’s texted me, but our last communication was a few hours ago.

I decide to distract myself by checking on the pasta in the oven (I always cover the top with a thick layer of cheese and put it in the oven for it to get nice and melty, just how he likes it). I don’t cook very often, but I thought I’d make dinner as a surprise for my boyfriend tonight. He’s been really busy recently – all the training and travelling and exhaustion from matches has meant we haven’t been spending a lot of time together. And the time we have managed to spend together is usually a couple hours with dinner in front of the TV until he’s snoring loud enough to make the neighbours’ dog bark.

To cut a long story short, I need Kepa to rail me before I lose my mind. They always say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but unlike other men, Kepa’s stomach leads to his dick. A good homecooked meal and a couple glasses of wine? The man’s ready to go all night. So I’m hoping a candlelit dinner tonight will lead to him bending me over the table. I even put on my good lingerie set, so I’ll be very disappointed if this doesn’t go to plan.

My phone starts ringing again, the unknown number persisting, but I reject the call. I don’t have enough patience to deal with a call centre right now. I knock back my wine, pouring out another glass and knocking back half of that too, my body full of impatient energy. I just want him to get home so I can touch him and kiss him. He’s been even sexier than usual recently, looking all big and hot in the goal, veins and muscles rippling whenever he saves a shot. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t having to press my thighs together during every match, praying I wouldn’t leave a wet spot on my seat.

The phone rings again, and I let out an annoyed huff when I see it’s the unknown number for the third time. I snatch the phone from the counter, pressing the green button and holding it to my ear. ‘Hello?’ I say, silence on the other side for a few long moments before I hear a low ‘hello’ in response. The voice is male and unfamiliar, sounding distorted. The line must not be great.

There’s another few seconds of silence after he speaks, and I roll my eyes. ‘Yeah?’ I ask, trying to keep my tone patient. ‘Who is this?’ he asks, and I frown. Does he not realise he’s calling me? ‘Who are you trying to reach?’ I ask, a low chuckle sounding in response. ‘What number is this?’ he asks, sounding amused, and I shake my head. Idiot. ‘What number are you trying to reach?’ I ask in response, getting another low chuckle in response, the sound making my pulse jump.

‘I… don’t know,’ he responds, and I can’t help but roll my eyes again. ‘I think you have the wrong number.’ ‘Have I?’ ‘It happens. Don’t worry about it,’ I say before hanging up, putting my phone back down on the countertop. I pick up my wineglass and head over to the sliding glass door that leads out onto the patio, my reflection clear in it. I really hope Kepa appreciates the effort I’ve made for him – this dress is sexy and not comfortable at all, meaning I look insanely good in it.

My phone starts ringing again, and I sigh deeply before picking up the phone, answering the unknown number despite my common sense telling me not to. ‘Hello?’ ‘I’m sorry. I think I called the wrong number,’ the man says, and I take a moment to compose myself. ‘So why did you call it again?’ I ask slowly. ‘To apologise,’ he responds, the smirk clear in his voice. ‘You’re forgiven. Bye now,’ I say chirpily, about to hang up before I hear, ‘wait, wait. Don’t hang up.’

‘Why?’ I ask, leaning against the countertop and running my finger around the rim of my glass. This guy’s probably just some perv trying to get off, but at least this is some entertainment until Kepa gets home. ‘I want to talk to you for a bit.’ ‘There’s trillions of numbers for that, creep,’ I respond with a small smile before I take a sip of my wine.

‘Yeah, but I called yours,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. This guy can’t have intentionally called me, can he? ‘I thought you said this was the wrong number?’ ‘I lied. Why don’t you want to talk to me?’ he asks, switching the topic before I can dwell on it too long. ‘I don’t know who you are.’ ‘You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine,’ he says, and I let out a laugh despite myself. This guy’s deluded.

‘I don’t think so,’ I say, flicking the rim of my wineglass with a manicured nail. ‘What was that?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes again. This guy needs to learn boundaries. ‘My wineglass.’ ‘You’re drinking wine?’ ‘Mmhmm. It’s date night,’ I say happily, getting excited again at the thought that Kepa will be home soon. ‘Date night?’ ‘Yep. My boyfriend doesn’t know it, but I’m surprising him with dinner tonight.’

‘Just dinner?’ he asks, and I let out an irritated noise. ‘What do you mean, ‘just dinner’? I’ve spent ages making this.’ ‘No, I don’t mean it like that. Dinner’s great. It’s just… isn’t it usually dinner and a movie?’ he asks, and I smile to myself. I’m hoping we won’t have time for a movie tonight – I want to be preoccupied with other things. ‘Yeah, but I think we might skip the movie.’ ‘You can’t skip the movie! That’s the best part of date night. Especially if it’s a scary movie,’ he says, his soft voice taking on a sudden edge that makes my hair on my arms stand up in worry.

‘What? Don’t you like scary movies?’ he asks, no edge to his voice. I must have imagined it. I tell myself to relax, taking a deep breath. ‘I don’t mind them.’ ‘What’s your favourite?’ he asks, and I think for a moment. ‘I like Scream. Ghostface is a good villain. What about you? What’s your favourite?’ I ask, met with a brief silence before he murmurs, ‘guess.’

‘Um… Nightmare on Elm Street?’ ‘Is that the one where the guy has knives for fingers?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes for the twentieth time this conversation. How can he start a conversation about scary movies if he doesn’t even know Nightmare on Elm Street? ‘Yeah, Freddy Krueger.’ ‘Freddy, that’s right. I liked that movie. It was scary.’ ‘The first one was, but the rest were bad,’ I say, taking a sip of my wine before my eyes flit up to the clock on the wall. Kepa should definitely be back from training now.

‘So… you mentioned your boyfriend,’ he says, and I can’t help but laugh. ‘Yeah.’ ‘Where is he?’ he asks, and I frown. Even he’s wondering where the hell Kepa is. ‘Why do you care, stranger?’ ‘That’s not my name,’ he says amusedly. ‘You didn’t tell me your name.’ ‘You didn’t tell me yours either. What is it?’ he asks, and I take another sip of my wine before I respond, ‘why do you want to know my name?’ ‘Because I want to know who I’m looking at,’ he responds, voice deadly soft, but the words have the effect of if he’d shouted them.

My blood goes cold, my eyes flitting to the back door. It’s pitch black outside, too dark to see if there’s anyone lurking. ‘What did you just say?’ I whisper, legs feeling weak as fear stabs through my body, my pulse skyrocketing. ‘I want to know who I’m talking to,’ he says slowly, as though he’s speaking to somebody stupid, and I shake my head, knowing what I heard.

‘That’s not what you said,’ I say shakily, rushing over to the door to make sure it’s locked, the handle not budging an inch. I feel a bit of relief flood through me – as long as the security system is working, no one can make it into this house unless their fingerprint is on the database. Perks of having a rich boyfriend. ‘What do you think I said?’ he asks, tone playful, but a sick feeling has already settled low in my stomach. This isn’t fun and entertaining anymore – I just want Kepa to get home.

‘I have to go,’ I say suddenly, and he chuckles lowly. ‘Your boyfriend isn’t home yet. Don’t you want the company?’ he asks, sounding mocking like he knows how scared I am right now. ‘No.’ ‘Are you sure? You don’t like being alone, princesa,’ he says, that one word making all the tension flood out of my body.

I’ve been waiting for Kepa to get home, but he’s the idiot on the other side of the phone.

‘Oh, thank God. Kepa, this isn’t funny,’ I whine. ‘I’m not your boyfriend, y/n. Don’t thank God yet,’ he teases, my relief tainted by a little bit of uneasiness. What if it really isn’t Kepa? But it has to be. He obviously has a voice distorter on, which is hiding the usual Spanish lilt to his voice, and princesa is his pet name of choice for me.

‘Cut it out, Kep. You’re scaring me,’ I say quietly, and he laughs gently. ‘There’s nothing to be scared of, baby. If you keep on being a good girl for me, I won’t hurt you,’ he murmurs softly, and I let out a little breath. It’s definitely him – no psycho murderer would be reassuring me. ‘Fine. I’ll be a good girl for you. Just come home,’ I say, the fear in my stomach subsiding, replaced by the desire that’s been sitting there for weeks.

‘I’m on my way. But I want you to be ready for me, princesa.’ ‘I am ready for you. I’m wearing… my boyfriend’s favourite dress,’ I say lowly, trying my best to sound all seductive, and I’m rewarded when I hear him take a breath to compose himself. ‘I can see that. You’ve put his favourite perfume on too, and you’re drinking the wine that gets you all worked up and desperate. I’ve been watching your every move,’ he whispers, the words making me a shiver run down my spine. My eyes flit up to security camera in the corner of the room, identical to the ones in the corner of every room in the house. Both of us can watch from them live on our phones.

‘You might want to answer that,’ he says suddenly, words followed by the doorbell echoing through the house, making me jump. I keep the phone to my ear as I head out of the kitchen and into the foyer, shivering from my bare feet on the cold marble floor as I walk to the front door. I open it without any hesitation, the empty porch making me falter. I thought he’d be stood there, but there’s nothing there except for my car parked on the driveway, his nowhere to be seen.

‘Who’s there?’ I call out in a sing-song voice despite the uncertainty still swirling around inside me. What if this is an A-grade stalker, who’s pretending to be Kepa to lull me into a false sense of security? And I’m the moron throwing the door open and shouting out to him. ‘You should never say ‘who’s there?’. Don’t you watch scary movies? It’s a death wish, babe,’ he says suddenly, reminding me that he’s still on the other side of the phone, and I quickly shut the door, making sure it locks afterwards.

‘Okay, enough’s enough. You’ve had your fun. Just stop now,’ I say quietly, chewing on my lip nervously as I head back to the kitchen. ‘Or what?’ ‘Or… my boyfriend’s gonna be home soon,’ I say with a small smile, his little laugh reassuring me. It has to be Kepa I’m talking to. ‘Oh, really?’ ‘Yeah, and he’s gonna be pissed when I tell him what you’re doing.’ ‘Will he?’ ‘Yeah. He’s 6 foot 1, and super big, and he plays football, so he’s athletic, and he’ll beat the shit out of you,’ I reply, my words met with more rich laughter.

‘I’m sure he will, baby. Or maybe I’ll gut him like a fish,’ he says sinisterly, striking fear into me again. Calm down, y/n. It’s just Kepa. It couldn’t possibly be anyone else. ‘What do you want?’ I ask, putting on the helpless damsel-in-distress voice, and he chuckles softly. ‘I want to see what your insides look like,’ he murmurs in a velvet voice, the words laced with a dirty innuendo that makes my underwear dampen considerably.

‘But first… let’s play a game. If you answer my questions correctly, I won’t lay a finger on you. If you get any of them wrong, I get to do whatever I want to do to you,’ he bargains, sparking my competitive streak. If winning means I don’t get his touch tonight, fine by me. I’m too competitive to lose. ‘Okay. Go ahead,’ I prompt.

‘Here’s your first question. Who’s the killer in Halloween?’ ‘Hmmm, I’m not sure I remember,’ I tease, and he laughs lightly. ‘Come on, princesa. You know this one. White mask, stalks babysitters?’ ‘Oh, right... it’s Michael Myers!’ I exclaim, as though the name only just came to me. ‘Good girl. You’re doing well. Ready for your next one?’ ‘Mmhmm.’

‘Who’s the killer in Friday the 13th?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes. He really thinks he can trick me with this? ‘Mrs Vorhees, Jason’s mother, followed by Jason himself in the sequel,’ I say happily, and he lets out a little sigh, disappointed I got it right. ‘You’re too good at this.’ ‘You know it, baby. Come on, give me another one,’ I say tauntingly, and it’s like I can feel the atmosphere shift over the phone.

‘Okay. Which door am I at?’ he asks, voice deadly soft again, and I freeze, uneasiness filling me. ‘Kepa…’ ‘I told you already, princesa. I’m not your boyfriend. Now answer my question if you want to win,’ he prompts, and I take a deep breath. He’s using my pet name to reassure me that it’s him without ruining the act. I’m not in any danger.

‘Um… the front door,’ I answer, waiting with bated breath for a response. But I’m met with a long silence, the tension multiplying with every second that goes by. And then finally he whispers his reply, the one word sending a shiver through me. ‘Wrong.’

I hear the door behind me slide open and I whirl around, ready to greet my boyfriend with open arms, a big smile on my face. But the smile on my face slips when I’m met with the sight of a figure stood in the doorway, dressed in a floor-length black robe, face covered by a white Ghostface mask. The figure’s hands are covered with black gloves, and in one of them, he’s holding a knife. A very sharp, very shiny, very real knife.

My mouth drops open in a bloodcurdling scream, and I run for the foyer staircase without a moment’s hesitation, the sound of my feet hitting the marble echoing loudly as I sprint up the stairs. When I hear his thundering footsteps, my heart misses a beat, fear filling my veins, and I can’t help but scream again when I turn to see him following me up the stairs.

I look ahead, knowing I’ll fall if I’m not careful, and I head straight towards mine and Kepa’s bedroom. Once it’s locked, only he and I can get in with our thumbprints, so it’ll prove if it’s him or not. As soon as I’m in the room, I shut the door and lock it with shaky hands, the silence that follows making me feel even more on edge. He’s probably stood right outside, just biding his time.

I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves, and it’s only when my ringtone sounds out into the silence do I remember that my phone’s in my hand, the sound making me jump again. I answer without any hesitation, met with low chuckles on the other side. ‘You’d make a good final girl, princesa. That was a real scary-movie scream,’ he teases, and I let out a low sob, tears in my eyes.

‘I’m scared, Kep. Why are you doing this?’ I ask, sitting on the edge of our bed before my legs give way. ‘I’m upset with you, babe. While your boyfriend’s been working so hard, earning money for you to spend on whatever you want, you’ve been crushing on his teammate,’ he murmurs, confusion filling me. What is he talking about?

‘Don’t act like you don’t know, y/n. I’ve seen how you look at him. How your eyes are glued to him on the pitch while your boyfriend’s in the dugout. You stare at his thighs, his hands running through his hair, his neck when he shouts and his lips when he spits. You want him, don’t you, princesa?’ he asks, and despite the fear still making my heart race, I feel guilty that I know exactly who he’s referring to.

It’s been a tough couple months for me. We’ve only had sex once in all that time, and he barely participated because he was tired (I’ve never been the one to do all the work so I didn’t enjoy it much). I’ve been frustrated. And when Kepa was still on the bench every match, my thirsty mind had to find someone to ogle for the 90 minutes. And that someone ended up being Mason Mount.

He’s an annoying cocky little shit, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him, especially when he’s playing football. His corner kicks, his hair flicks, his spitting, his angry outbursts, his goals, his injuries. All of it is just so… hot. Kepa’s right – I’ve been trying to hide it, but I have a real crush on his teammate.

‘Kepa, I’m-’ ‘Don’t start trying to apologise now that you’ve been caught out, princesa. It’s too late for that now. And anyway, I feel for you a little bit. It must have been hard for you, with your boyfriend giving you no attention. I bet you’ve been trying your best to get yourself off. Do your fingers feel as good as his, baby?’ he asks, my underwear flooded with arousal now. He’s killing me – half of my mind is in panic mode, and the other half is thinking about dick. I don’t know which part I’m more annoyed with.

‘Show me, baby. Take off that pretty dress, lie down on the bed, and show me how you’ve been touching yourself, thinking of your boyfriend and his best friend,’ he taunts, my stomach clenching with nerves. One thing Kepa never does is call my pet names in English, yet the person on the other side of the phone has been calling me ‘baby’ and ‘babe instead of the usual ‘cariño’ or ‘querido’.

Before it can properly dawn on me, there’s a loud banging on the door, a startled scream escaping my lips. ‘I’m getting impatient, babe. Take off your dress before I come in and cut it off you with my knife,’ he threatens through gritted teeth, and I quickly get up off the bed. I put the phone on speaker, leaving it sat atop the sheets before I reach back to the zip on my dress.

My hands shake as I pull down the zip, my skin exposed to the room when I let the dress drop off me, leaving me stood in just my black lacy lingerie, suspenders and all. ‘Wow. Look at you, baby. So pretty. Did you dress up all for me? Or for your footballer boyfriend?’ he taunts, the cold air on my bare skin making me shiver.

‘Now lie down on the bed,’ he says in a gentle tone, and I do as he says, settling myself amongst the sheets, back against the headboard. ‘Spread your legs for me,’ he prompts, my actions following his words, exposing my clothed core to the room.

‘Slip your hand into your pants, princesa,’ he instructs softly, and I let my hand trail down my body before sliding beneath my underwear, a shaky breath falling from my lips when my fingertips brush against my clit. ‘So sensitive. I bet you’re so wet, so desperate for me to fuck you. Am I right, y/n? I’m right, aren’t I, baby? You’re so desperate for my cock, my fingers, my tongue. Anything I give you, you’ll be grateful for, huh?’ he asks, and I just nod, fingers ghosting across my folds, light tingles of pleasure running through me.

‘Are you gonna let me come in and fuck you, babe? I’m so hard for you, baby, so fucking hard. I wanna make you scream with my cock. Will you let me come in, y/n?’ he asks, and I shake my head, no. Despite my mind clouding over with a hazy fog, I’m still scared of the Ghostface on the other side of the door.

‘Well, if you remember correctly, baby, you got one of the questions wrong, which means I get to do whatever I want to you. Maybe I’ll use my knife to make you scream instead of my cock. Is that what you want, princesa?’ he asks, and the fear takes over, making me remove my hand from my pants and grab the phone shakily. ‘No, please. I’m scared,’ I whisper, and he lets out a low chuckle that makes my stomach turn.

‘You should be.’

The door swings open, Ghostface stood in the doorway, the only light in the room streaming in around his big frame from the hallway. His knife is still in one hand, head tilted mockingly, and the mask’s mouth is open in its perpetual scream, as though it’s warning me what I’m about to be doing too. ‘You look so sexy when you’re scared, baby. Your eyes are all big and teary, your teeth biting your lip, your chest heaving with deep breaths. I bet you look like that when you’re getting fucked as well, huh?’ the voice on the other end of the phone asks, cold realisation hitting me.

Ghostface only has a knife in his hand, the other one empty. No phone in sight.

‘Oh, princesa, you’re so cute. For someone who likes scary movies, you clearly don’t pay much attention to them. It was never just Billy Loomis. Stu Macher was with him all along. It was how they managed to do all their killing,’ the voice on the phone says mockingly, and then I hear the handle on the bathroom door turning slowly.

My breathing falters as I wait for the door to open, my heart stopping when another Ghostface is revealed, both of them standing in opposite doorways, staring at me. The new one has a phone and a voice distorter in his gloved hands, held up to his mouth. ‘Two’s better than one, baby,’ he says cockily, voice echoing through my phone.

I cover my mouth, a sob escaping my lips, and my eyes fill with tears that begin to spill over. I’m terrified despite how I’m pretty sure I know who both of these Ghostfaces are, my eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them. The first one walks across the room to me and I shrink away from him in fear, letting out a sob when his hand tightens around my throat and he pulls me closer to him. He lifts the knife to my face, gliding the tip across my skin, the cold metal making me shiver. The proximity means I can hear him breathing through the mask, and a familiar scent fills my senses.

‘What’s the safeword, cariño?’ a muffled voice asks from the other side of the mask, and I breathe a sigh of relief at hearing the Spanish accent, my nerves easing at him using one of his Spanish pet names for me. ‘Arsenal,’ I respond (hearing me shout his rival team is a definite way to get him to stop whatever he’s doing), and he nods, releasing my neck and lifting his hand to my face, wiping away my tears.

‘I like you scared, princesa. Your screams are so pretty,’ he murmurs softly, hand caressing my face with the most gentle touch before he reaches over to flick the lamp on. ‘I bet they sound prettier when she’s being touched than when she’s being chased up the stairs,’ the other Ghostface says, reminding me of his presence, and I suddenly realise what this is leading up to, the thought almost making me moan aloud. I’ve been desperate for cock for weeks, and now I’m gonna get two.

‘Much prettier. Come and find out for yourself,’ Kepa says, Mason stepping across the room to stand beside his teammate. My heart jumps at the two of them stood there in front of me, the two masks looking down at me with mocking screams. ‘Hands and knees, querido. Culo in the air for us,’ Kepa prompts, and I move into position, facing away from them and giving them a full view of my ass, supporting my body weight on weak arms.

‘I didn’t know it was possible to have a wet patch on black fabric,’ Mason teases, a gloved finger hooking through my pants and pulling them aside, both of them letting out appreciative noises at the sight of my soaked core. ‘Such a pretty pussy. So wet, babe. Is this all for us, y/n?’ Mason asks, his compliment making a thrill run through me. I let out a hum in response, a hand suddenly snaking around my neck, pulling my head back in an uncomfortable position.

‘Words, baby,’ Mason murmurs. ‘Yes, it’s for both of you,’ I respond, voice strained, and my neck is released from the hand’s tight hold. ‘Good girl. Do you want us to touch you?’ ‘Yes. Please,’ I whimper, feeling a finger ghosting over my folds a moment later. I bite down on my lip, embarrassed at how close I am to moaning when they’ve barely touched me.

There’s no more movement so I push my ass back, needing more contact, and both of them laugh, humiliation filling me and making me even wetter. ‘Our little princess is so needy for us, huh? Does our pretty girl want more?’ Mason asks, his dirty talk turning me on so much. Kepa drops a pet name or compliment (or insult – degradation gets me going) here and there, but he’s never been one for a running commentary like this.

‘Please,’ I whisper. ‘What do you want, baby? Tell us what you want, and we’ll give it to you.’ ‘Anything. Just something, please,’ I beg, the aching in my core thrumming through my whole body. ‘Shall we touch you with our knives, princesa?’ Kepa asks, and I take it as an innuendo before I feel the sharp tip of cold metal tracing down my spine, a harsh shiver running through me. ‘I did tell you I wanted to see what your insides look like, babe,’ Mason reminds me, smirk audible in his voice.

Even though I know it’s a joke, it sparks fear in me again, which only makes me gush with more arousal. Fear and desire have always gone hand-in-hand for me, which is how I ended up with an intimidating Adonis for a boyfriend. He scares me just as much as he turns me on, and that’s always been the case for everything. Whenever we watch horror films together, we end up fucking afterwards, because he knows how needy I get when I’m scared out of my wits. Halloween’s his favourite time of year.

‘Please don’t kill me, Mr Ghostface. I wanna be in the sequel,’ I say breathily, quoting Tatum’s line in the film, both of them laughing in response. ‘Oh, baby, we’re not gonna kill you. We’ve gotta have some fun with you first,’ Mason murmurs in a low voice, my heart racing at the possibilities of where this is gonna go.

Before I can respond, a finger plunges into me, a moan escaping my lips as I clench around the digit, head falling forward against my chest. I feel a hand wrap around my hair before pulling harshly, keeping my head back, and the knife appears at my neck, the blade like ice against my burning hot skin. The finger inside me is joined by another, the friction from the gloves making me whimper, and I feel my stomach clench when the fingers begin thrusting in and out of me, trying to open me up.

I don’t even know whose fingers are inside of me, or whose hand is pulling on my hair, the ambiguity making everything even hotter, and I can’t help the moans and whimpers slipping through my lips every few seconds. ‘Fuck, you weren’t lying. She sounds so pretty. So pretty and good for us,’ Mason murmurs, the fingers inside me curling against my walls, the feeling taking my breath away.

A third finger pushes into me, the painful stretch making me whine in pain, and I feel a hand rubbing my ass soothingly. I pant as I try to adjust to the stretch, the fingers pumping in and out of me as soon as my breathing calms down, and the hand resting on my ass disappears before landing back down heavily, the slap reverberating around the room.

With the fingers thrusting into me, slaps landing harshly on my ass, my hair being pulled and knife to my throat, I’m losing my mind, all sense disappearing and melting down into nothing but overwhelming pleasure. When a thumb appears at my clit, pressing down roughly, I let out a loud moan, sounding pathetic even to my own ears, and my walls clamp down around the fingers, legs shaking.

‘I’m gonna…’ I trail off, already feeling the tell-tale signs of an orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening more with each circle being drawn at my clit. ‘You’re gonna what, babe? Are you gonna cum for us?’ Mason asks teasingly, the long fingers inside me curling against the soft spot that makes me cry out. ‘I think she’s gonna cum, bro,’ Mason says conversationally, Kepa chuckling. ‘Not without permission, she’s not,’ Kepa reminds me, and I begin pleading before he’s even finished talking.

‘Please let me cum. I need it so bad, please. I need to cum, please let me cum,’ I moan, not even thinking about what I’m saying before the words come out. ‘What do you think? Shall we let her?’ Kepa asks, as though he’s asking Mason whether he thinks it’s gonna rain, their indifference making me even more desperate for them. I’m a victim of the chase.

‘Hmm, I don’t know, bro. Has she earned it?’ ‘All she’s done is lie here and let us fuck her with our fingers like a dirty little slut,’ Kepa murmurs, sentence punctuated with a rough slap on my ass, his words prompting a moan to fall from my lips. ‘It’s like that? Baby likes being called a slut?’ Mason asks, sounding like he’s stumbled across a goldmine, and I can’t wait for the filth he’s gonna be saying to me tonight.

‘She loves it. Almost as much as she loves being a lazy little bitch in bed. I don’t think she deserves it.’ ‘Me neither,’ Mason agrees, their hands disappearing from me a moment later, my orgasm instantly fading away. I let out a whine at the loss of contact, even missing the feeling of the knife against my throat, and my whine is rewarded with another slap on my ass, the skin burning at this point.

‘Don’t be a brat, y/n. Thank us for what we gave you,’ Mason says, voice laced with malice, pushing me to see if I’ll do it. ‘Thank you for your fingers,’ I say pathetically, a light slap landing on my ass after I speak. ‘That’s better. You wanna be a good girl for us, don’t you, princesa?’ Kepa asks, and I nod, knowing I need to behave if I want to get off tonight.

‘Turn around, baby,’ Mason prompts, and I do as he says, tucking my legs beneath me as I turn to face them, my ass sore. I look up at the two of them, searching for their eyes behind the masks, nothing but empty darkness staring back at me, sending a shiver down my spine. Imagine if it’s not really them, and it’s two psychos imitating them, trying their best to sound like them. What if-

‘Are you still scared, querido?’ Kepa asks in the voice that always gets me going, his tone half-patronising and half-comforting, and I nod in response, looking up at them through my lashes. From this angle, I can’t even tell which of them is which, the two of them stood to close together to tell who each voice is coming from. The one on the left has the knife in his hand and he uses it to tilt my head up, my eyes on the ceiling.

‘Eyes on us, babe,’ Mason says, my gaze flitting down to the two identical masks again, sending a quiver of fear through me. ‘God, you look so hot when you’re scared. Just wanna fuck this pretty face,’ Mason says, a hand coming to tighten around my neck. ‘She’s all yours,’ Kepa says, one of the figures stepping back and taking a seat on the chaise lounge chair in the corner of the room, putting the knife down beside him.

The figure still in front of me – Mason – lets go of my neck and unbuttons his black robe just enough to let his hard cock spring free. He’s not as long as Kepa, but he’s still a mouth-watering size, thick enough that I know my jaw’s gonna ache after this. ‘Mouth open, baby,’ he prompts, and I part my lips enough for him to slide in.

But he only gives me two fingers, his other hand gripping his length and tugging on it a few times, the tip leaking with precum. It’s humiliating – I’m sat here in skimpy transparent lingerie with his fingers in my mouth, and he’s almost completely covered, jacking off right in front of my face. I feel my underwear flooding all over again.

Without any warning, he removes his fingers and pushes his cock into my mouth, letting out a low groan as he slides all the way in, tip hitting the back of my throat and prompting a loud gag. ‘Fuck,’ he moans, drawing the word out as he stills, my throat trying to reject the intrusion. I try to breathe through my nose, tears already collecting on my waterline, and when he finally pulls out, I gasp like I’ve been drowning.

‘Suck him off, princesa. Show him how good you are with your mouth,’ Kepa prompts from the corner of the room, drawing my attention back to him. The sight of him sprawled out on the seat, watching his girlfriend with another man is enough to make my stomach clench with arousal. The bedsheets are gonna be soaked if they go on like this.

I lean forward, looking up at Mason with big, innocent eyes as I press a kiss to his tip, a shaky breath audible through the mask, making me grin to myself. I place my tongue at the base, licking up to his tip against the vein on the underside of his cock before taking the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him and sucking like he’s a lollipop, cheeks caved in. I look up at him as I take him further in, eyes meeting the hollow black ones on his mask, and another gag forces its way up my throat, a soft groan falling from his lips.

I set a gentle pace, slowly bobbing my head up and down, taking him in as far as possible, hand leisurely tugging at what I can’t reach. ‘Like that, y/n, just like that. Feels so fucking good, baby,’ he groans quietly, head thrown back, hand fisting into my hair as my eyes begin to water, and I hum around at him at the praise, the sensation making him moan softly, the sound going straight to my core.

It’s not long before his hips begin moving, his hand controlling my head movements, and I grab onto his legs as he thrusts slowly. ‘Gonna be a good girl for me, babe? Gonna let me fuck this pretty little mouth?’ he asks, and I hum in response, tears filling my eyes again. He doesn’t wait another moment before his thrusts speed up and I gag repeatedly around him. The sounds only spur him on, and tears run down my face as he looks down at me, watching me try to take him as far in as possible.

‘Fuck, you’re so good. Such a good little slut, letting me fuck your mouth, and taking it so well. Love hearing you gagging,’ he says in a strained voice, thrusting particularly hard to prompt a gag from me, the noise making him moan. ‘You’re so hot,’ he murmurs, the praise making me moan, the vibrations making his hips falter. Tears stream down my face, saliva bubbles around my mouth and drips down my chin and neck – I must look like such a mess right now.

And then I remember that Kepa’s sat in the corner, my gaze flicking over to him, stomach turning when I see that he’s jacking off whilst watching us. The sight makes me moan again, Mason letting out a choked groan, the noise only making me wetter. He pulls out of my mouth a moment later, breathing heavily, chest visibly heaving.

‘You weren’t lying,’ Mason says, Kepa chuckling as he gets to his feet. ‘I told you, hermano. She sucks your soul,’ he murmurs, standing in front of me and wiping my face clean again. ‘Lie down for us, princesa,’ Kepa instructs, and I do as he says with a weak and shaky body, tension flooding out of me as I relax into the sheets, lying horizontally across the bed with my feet dangling off the side.

‘Look at her. So pretty. What shall we do to you, babe?’ Mason asks, the knife in his hand. He rests the tip of it against my thigh before running it down my leg, the sharp point a cold sting against my skin. ‘Anything. Please,’ I whisper, body already so tired but desperate for both of them, for whatever they want to do to me.

‘Gonna let me eat your pretty little pussy, baby?’ he asks silkily, a moan falling from my lips at just the thought of it. ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he says amusedly, dropping to his knees at the side of the bed, disappearing from my view. I’m about to sit up so I can see him take off the mask but Kepa appears behind me, a hand on my shoulder to keep me lying down.

He taps my bottom lip, the message in the action clear, and I open my mouth for him. I watch him, my boyfriend upside-down in my vision as he opens his robe. I’m too distracted watching Kepa wrap his hand around his cock that I forget about Mason until he spreads my legs apart and pulls my pants aside.

He doesn’t waste any time, tongue licking a bold stripe across my core, prompting a breathy moan from me. ‘Mmm. You taste so good, babe. So sweet,’ Mason groans, lips against my inner thigh, pressing soft kisses to my skin. ‘Thank him for being kind to you, cariño,’ Kepa prompts, a mocking tinge to his voice, as Mason dips his tongue between my folds. ‘Thank you,’ I whimper, voice hitching when he presses his thumb to my clit, rubbing slow and hard circles that send shivers through me.

He keeps himself composed for barely ten seconds before he loses control, beginning to eat me out like he’s starving. Obscene wet sounds fill the room as he licks and sucks me, prompting desperate moaning from me. I reach down to thread my hands into his hair, the fluffy locks soft against my fingers, and when I tug on it, he lets out a gentle grunt against me, the vibrations making me squirm.

‘Ready, princesa?’ Kepa murmurs, reminding me of his presence, and I nod, opening my mouth wide for him again. He taps his cock against my tongue, the angle I’m lying at allowing him to push down into my throat and, despite my gagging, he slides all the way in until his balls tap against my nose. He pulls back out with a shaky breath, allowing me to inhale deeply before entering my mouth again.

He thrusts shallowly, not going too far into my mouth, and I’m grateful for it. With Mason eating me out like a man possessed, I’m already struggling to breathe, constantly moaning around Kepa’s cock which only gets him even more worked up. I try my best to engage my brain, sucking on his cock as best as I can whilst pulling Mason’s face even closer to my core. He flicks his tongue inside me, nose nuzzling against my clit in a way that makes me moan his name, but it comes out as gibberish with Kepa keeping my mouth full.

Kepa’s broken breaths and pleasured groans become more and more frequent, his gloved hands resting softly on my face as his hips move slowly back and forth. He’s doing everything in his power to hold back from fucking into my mouth as hard and fast as he wants to, that in itself making me even wetter, the squelching from between my legs getting even louder as Mason laps at me relentlessly.

‘Are you close, querido?’ Kepa asks, voice strained, but I’m too far gone to be able to respond, squirming on the bed with my thighs trying to close around Mason’s head, heels digging into his back. ‘I think she’s close. Shall I let her?’ Mason asks against my clit, my back arching up at the vibrations, a high-pitched whine escaping my mouth. ‘No,’ Kepa responds shortly, and I feel my eyes welling up at the thought of being edged again. The knot in my stomach is so tight, ready to snap, but I feel it loosening the moment Mason moves away from me.

Kepa pulls out of my mouth a moment later, a shiver running through me at feeling suddenly empty, and I can’t help but let out a sob. ‘Turn over,’ Kepa prompts, and I roll onto my front, the man kneeling down in front of me. ‘Don’t cry, cariño. You’ll get what you want,’ he says comfortingly, running a gloved hand down the side of my face soothingly. His hand comes to rest over my eyes and a moment later, his lips meet mine in a soft kiss that tastes like my boyfriend – any doubt in my mind about who he is disappears instantly.

Before I can even deepen the kiss, I feel Mason’s hands wrap around my ankles, pulling me across the bed towards him. He flicks open my bra before flipping me over, his hands instantly grabbing at my boobs, gloved fingers tugging at my nipples, my head falling back against the bed as I let out a helpless whimper.

‘Gonna let me fuck you, baby?’ he asks, and I nod desperately, legs spreading unconsciously for him. His hands slide down my body to my pants and he pulls them down my legs, leaving me in just suspenders and transparent stockings, the rest of me on show for him. ‘Such a beautiful body, so pretty for us,’ he compliments, rubbing softly at my clit, and I let out breathy moans in response, tingles of pleasure running through me.

‘Does our pretty baby wanna be fucked?’ he asks again, clearly wanting me to say it, and push down the humiliation to reply, ‘yes, please fuck me. I need it so bad.’ ‘Good girl,’ he says amusedly, deftly catching the condom Kepa throws to him. ‘No condom, please. I’m on birth control,’ I say, his movements freezing for a moment before he looks at Kepa.

‘Are you sure, cariño?’ Kepa asks, out of my view, and I nod. Kepa and I almost never use a condom, and it’ll drive me crazy feeling Mason raw inside me. ‘Fuck,’ Mason curses under his breath, pulling my legs up to rest on his shoulders, insides of my ankles brushing against the cold plastic of the mask. He runs his tip up and down my folds before plunging in without warning, both of us moaning as he bottoms out inside me.

He’s thick enough for the stretch to burn but he rubs my clit to soothe the pain, hips keeping himself still inside me. ‘Please, I need it. Please fuck me,’ I beg desperately, and he doesn’t waste any time, pulling all the way out before slamming back in, winding me. He starts off gentle, his thrusts deep but leisurely, and it feels like the head of his cock is prodding against my cervix each time he slides back in, making me whimper pathetically.

‘Fucking slut,’ he murmurs, thrusting into me particularly hard, and my mouth drops open in a silent moan at the insult, back lifting up from the bed with his tight grip on my waist. He gradually picks up the pace, and I moan helplessly as his cock drags against my walls. I can’t help but clench around him, and I can tell he’s holding himself back from going harder, his breaths coming out laboured. He must be close to suffocation in that mask.

It seems he wants me to feel the same, his hand coming to my neck and tightening, cutting off my airways so a pleasurable haze clouds over my mind. ‘Fuck, you’re so tight,’ he groans, body tense with the effort of keeping himself together, and I let out a choked moan, eyes full of overwhelmed tears. He reaches to slip two gloved fingers into my mouth, and I can taste my own arousal on the material, the filth of it making me gush around his cock.

‘Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So wet for me. So wet for a man that’s not your boyfriend, dirty little slut,’ he taunts me, my brain barely processing his words, too focused on the tip of his cock scraping against the spot inside me that makes my eyes roll back, intense waves of pleasure rolling over my body.

‘Such a tight little pussy. Guess your boyfriend hasn’t been fucking you properly,’ he murmurs cockily, shooting a look over his shoulder to where Kepa must be stood now. ‘Watch it,’ Kepa warns darkly, Mason laughing at managing to piss him off. I can barely focus on their interaction, the knot in my stomach tightening again. I can’t even form words, babbling unintelligibly around his fingers, and both of them chuckle at the state of me. His pace slows down again, the boy leisurely thrusting into me, and my eyes fill with tears with the desperation for my orgasm, my vision blurred and head numb with pleasure.

‘Are you gonna cum, princess?’ Mason asks, and I don’t even nod in response, not wanting to be edged again. ‘That’s a yes,’ Kepa murmurs, and Mason pulls out of me straight away, a frustrated sob breaking free from my mouth. Mason’s hand comes down onto my pussy in a light slap, making me let out a strangled yelp and I shoot him a reproachful look, hearing a chuckle from beneath the mask.

‘Don’t give him that face. You should be grateful, cariño.’ ‘Grateful for what? Being edged a trillion times?’ I ask bitterly, and I can feel the sternness radiating from Kepa’s mask. ‘Don’t be bratty,’ he says, unbuttoning his robe and removing his gloves before pulling his mask off. His skin is flushed, curls unruly and eyes bright, my heart pounding at the sight of him. I beam, reaching a hand out to him and pulling him close to press a kiss to his lips.

‘Sit on my face?’ he asks against my lips, my pussy drenched at the thought, and I nod, ‘please.’ He comes to lie on the bed, his legs hanging off the bottom of it, and he’s wearing nothing but his boxers, relief filling me that I can finally see his face. I can’t see it for long though, as he pulls me towards him, wrapping his arms around my thighs to bring me close to his head, my body blocking the bottom half of his face.

He doesn’t even give me a moment to prepare before he licks a bold stripe across my slit, making my whole body quiver above him. ‘Joder. Sabes tan dulce. Could eat you all day, princesa,’ he says against my core, the vibrations making me whimper.

He starts relatively slow, tongue circling my clit before lapping up my slick and poking between my folds gently but it’s not long before he loses his self-control, abusing my heat with his tongue, hands holding me in a bruisingly tight grip as I squirm, unable to hold my weight up. My pussy must be suffocating him.

‘Please, please,’ I moan repeatedly, and I can see the amusement in his eyes as he breathes against my folds, his tongue circling my clit again and again. ‘Please, what? Words, cariño,’ he says against my folds, making me jolt forwards, head almost hitting the wall. ‘More, Kepa, more. I need to cum,’ I force out between moans, face contorted in pleasure, and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘My dirty slut wants to cum?’ he asks, words dripping with amusement, and I nod, mouth open in a silent moan as the waves of pleasure roll over me. He practically begins to make out with my pussy, lips moving against my folds as his tongue pokes into me every few seconds. And then he decided to torture me further, mouth moving to suck at my clit as he pushes two fingers into me and curls them, prompting a loud moan from me.

‘Let me fuck you then,’ he says against my clit, fingers disappearing from inside me, and I shakily lift myself up from his face, leaning down to kiss him briefly again, a soft smile on his face as he kisses me back. How can this be the man that chased me up the stairs with a knife a little while ago?

I move down his body, hovering over his cock and watching as he pushes his boxers down just enough to guide himself into me. I sink down onto him, the familiarity making me sigh as I take him all the way in, his length filling me up almost painfully. It’s like I can feel him in my stomach. I take a few seconds to adjust, suddenly remembering Mason, and I turn to see him sat on the chair in the corner, mask, gloves and robe gone, hand down his boxers and grin on his face.

I motion for him to come over and he stands beside the bed, turning my hand with a strong hand on my chin and pulling my face to his. Our lips meet in a messy kiss, teeth and tongues clashing, and I feel the thrill of kissing someone who isn’t my boyfriend, someone I’ve been secretly crushing on for a while. He bites down on my lip, making me moan into his mouth before he laves his tongue soothingly over where he just bit, my pussy gushing around Kepa.

I break away, remembering my boyfriend whose cock I’m sat on, but he’s watching us with an amused look on his face, leaning on his elbows for a good view. ‘I think I like seeing you with other guys,’ he admits with a grin, Mason laughing, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘Are you a dirty voyeur, papí?’ I tease, his gaze hardening and eyes narrowing, scaring me just as much as when he had the mask on, making me wetter again. ‘I’m gonna fuck you hard for that,’ he says darkly, arousal pooling in my stomach.

His hands tighten on my hips and he lifts me before pushing me back down onto his cock, thrusting up at the same time, making me moan with my head thrown back, almost falling off the bed but bumping into Mason instead. He presses kisses along my neck, biting colours into my skin as Kepa lifts me up and down on him, fucking up into me in a way that makes me whimper his name desperately.

He sits up after a few moments, my body sandwiched between theirs, and I grind down onto him, my clit rubbing against his skin, head going light at the pleasure. He dips his head to suck at my nipples, nipping at the flesh of my breasts as I try my best to ride, relying on him lifting me up and down. ‘Good girl, bouncing on my cock,’ Kepa murmurs as Mason’s hand slides around me to rub at my clit, my head falling back against his strong chest.

Kepa’s tip scrapes against the spot inside me that makes my back arch, and his lips stray up to my shoulder. The feeling of both he and Mason’s kissing and biting at my skin, Mason’s fingers at my clit and Kepa’s cock buried inside me, it’s all too much. I’m so close to my orgasm that I can almost feel the white-hot pleasure washing over me already.

‘Can we try something, cariño?’ Kepa asks with his lips at my jaw, his hands stilling my hips, and when I feel Mason’s hand on my lower back, a nervous shiver runs through me. I’ve only let Kepa in the back a couple times and it was… an experience, to say the least. ‘We don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ Mason says softly, mouth moving against my skin, but I shake my head. ‘No, it’s okay. We can try,’ I say quietly, Mason turning my head to kiss me again, the feeling so foreign and thrilling.

‘You’re so fucking cute. Such a good girl,’ he murmurs against my lips before breaking away. I watch as he spits, the parallel between this and watching him spit on the pitch almost making me laugh, and I feel his saliva land at my back entrance. He pushes his boxers down just enough to free his cock and he uses the head to spread his spit around, lubing me up.

‘Safeword if it hurts,’ Kepa reminds me and I nod, letting him capture my lips with his own as Mason gently pushes into me. He takes it slowly, the stretch of each inch burning more and more, but his and Kepa’s lips kiss the pain away. My breathing is laboured, head dizzy, and when Mason bottoms out, they both shower me in praise that makes me wet, my clenching around them making them both groan in pleasure.

‘Can I move?’ I breathe out after a while, feeling adjusted to them inside me, and they both tell me I can. I use my hands on Kepa’s shoulders and my knees resting on the bed to lift myself slightly before letting myself fall back down, all three of us moaning at the feeling. Mason’s mouth comes to my shoulder and bites gently, my head falling back against him as Kepa watches me intently to make sure I’m not in pain, his hands resting on my waist.

He quickly takes over, lifting me up and down with a gradually increasing pace, both of their cocks scraping against my walls, making me lose my mind. The sounds of wet squelches, moans, grunts, groans and skin slapping against skin fill the room, Kepa’s hands gripping my waist tightly, Mason’s hands sliding around my body to play with my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers.

‘Faster, please,’ I moan, Kepa obliging, the three of us letting out more moans at the faster pace, my nails digging into Kepa’s back. Mason’s fingers stray down to my clit again, just as Kepa’s tip scrapes against my soft spot. Without an inch of warning, my orgasm washes over me, mouth open with a high-pitched moan, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back against Mason.

Hot pleasure burns through my veins, my head spinning and body convulsing, the two of them working me through my high with their hands, mouths and cocks, the sensations only prolonging the bliss. My legs shake as I come down, walls clenching to reject them, my body curling in on itself to try and give myself reprieve, but no such luck – the two of them are still rock-hard inside me, and I know they won’t be done with me until they’ve filled me up with their cum.

‘You’re gonna regret cumming so fast, baby,’ Mason murmurs lowly against my neck, an evil grin on Kepa’s face, and I let out a tired sob, tears in my eyes. ‘I can’t handle any more,’ I whimper, Kepa raising an eyebrow as he starts fucking up into me, Mason matching his pace, my body twitching with overstimulation, pained whines escaping my lips every few seconds.

‘Yes, you can, cariño. You’re a big girl. You’ll take whatever we give you, and you’ll thank us for it too,’ Kepa says in a soothing tone, kissing along my jaw, and I slide my fingers into his hair, head resting against Mason’s shoulder, heat radiating from both of their bodies. We’re all so hot, skin covered in sweat and desire, and I can’t help the tears running down my face as they continue fucking into me for their own orgasms, my body so overwhelmed.

I let out desperate moans of their names, both of them groaning in response, and I know they’re close. I am too, the sensitivity of overstimulation ebbing away into the build-up of another orgasm. ‘Rub yourself, baby,’ Mason prompts, hands playing with my tits again, and I shake my head. ‘I can’t… it’s too much,’ I whimper, Kepa’s gaze on me hardening as his hand tightens at my neck.

‘You can, and you will. He won’t ask you again, princesa,’ he says, tone laced with sternness, and I let go of one of his shoulders to reach down and rub at my clit again, sparks of pleasure lighting inside me, more tears running down my face. He kisses them away before his lips find mine, the saltiness of my tears finding my tastebuds as well as the faint taste of my own pussy, a whiny moan sounding from low in my throat.

I can feel their paces becoming sloppy, their thrusts erratic and their hands frantic on me, like it feels so good that they don’t know what to do with themselves anymore. ‘Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Such a good girl. I’m not gonna last,’ Mason says between deep breaths, voice strained. ‘Joder. Me neither,’ Kepa says unevenly, slapping my hand away to rub at my clit himself, his faster and harsher pace making me scream, body thrashing at the overpowering pleasure.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna…’ I trail off, mind too numb to think straight. ‘Go on, querido. Cum for our cocks.’ ‘Does our little slut feel good? Are you gonna cum for us, baby?’ Their dirty talk almost finishes me off, but it’s an in-sync thrust from both of them that pushes me over the edge, mouth open in a silent scream as my high hits me, body tensed and shaking. Mason’s orgasm follows close after, the boy burying his head in my neck as he cums with a low moan of my name, and Kepa’s is last, my boyfriend holding me down on his cock as he cums deep inside me with his head thrown back.

We stay like this for a few moments, breathing heavily as their cocks soften inside me. I shudder when Mason pulls out, feeling cold and empty when Kepa lifts me off him to lay me down on the bed, tension flooding out of my body and replaced with relief.

I spot one of the masks on the pillow and I reach for it, holding it and looking at it, paying no attention to the two of them as they move around, talking lowly. I stare into the dark eyes of the mask, a low thrill settling in my stomach at the sight of it. I always found Ghostface hot, but now? He’s number one on my crush list and I think it’ll take a lot to replace him.

‘¿Estas bien, mi amor?’ Kepa asks softly, and I put the mask down, looking at him with a tired smile on my face. His hair’s all fluffy and he’s put on some pyjama bottoms, the sexy checked ones I love on him. His top half is bare, though – I already know I’ll be tracing my fingers over his muscles before I fall asleep tonight.

‘I’m okay,’ I reply in a hoarse voice, my boyfriend coming to sit on the bed beside me, a wet towel in his hand. He cleans me up with a gentle touch, running the towel up and down my body to soak up all the sweat. Mason comes out of the bathroom a moment later, also wearing a pair of sexy checked pyjamas bottoms with no top, his hair just as fluffy. He comes over to the bed with a handsome grin, pushing my legs apart.

I feel shy as both he and Kepa look between my legs, both groaning at the sight. I can feel their cum dripping out of both holes, the sensation only making me wet again. ‘Fuck, that’s so hot,’ Mason says, scooping up their cum and pushing it back into me with two fingers, making me hum in pleasure, walls clenching around him.

They both get me ready for bed, Kepa cleaning my makeup off with a wipe as Mason takes off the remainder of my lingerie before handing me my Ghostface pyjamas, making me laugh at the irony of it. ‘Are you hungry, mamí?’ Kepa asks, suddenly reminding me of my cooking. ‘I put a pasta bake in the oven. It’s probably burnt to a crisp now,’ I say miserably, both of them laughing. ‘I turned the oven off before I chased you up the stairs,’ Kepa says, his responsible behaviour making me smile amusedly.

‘It still won’t be good to eat now though.’ ‘We’ll order pizza. Still Italian,’ Kepa says, and I roll my eyes but nod anyway – I love takeaway pizza. Kepa taps away at his phone as I settle into the sheets, already feeling myself drifting off to sleep. ‘What toppings do you want, Mase?’ Kepa asks, Mason looking surprised. ‘I was gonna go.’ ‘No, stay the night, please. I want morning sex,’ I say tiredly, the two of them laughing again.

‘How can I refuse you, babe? I’ll have whatever, I’m not fussy,’ Mason says, directing the last part to Kepa who finishes the order as Mason climbs into the bed beside me. ’30 minutes,’ Kepa says, and I let my eyes flutter shut. ‘I’m gonna have a little nap,’ I yawn, Kepa chuckling softly as he runs a hand over my hair, sending tingles through me. I snuggle down into the sheets, resting my head in Kepa’s lap and throwing my legs over Mason’s, my boyfriend playing with my hair as Mason massages my feet. This must be heaven.

‘Sorry for scaring you, babe.’ ‘Don’t be. I loved it. You’re great actors,’ I mumble, getting chuckles in response. ‘Liar. You knew it was us.’ ‘I doubted it a few times though. I really thought you were Kepa on the phone. Your Spanish accent is great,’ I say, Mason looking proud of himself. ‘I’ve got a good teacher,’ he says, the two of them bumping their fists together with big grins at each other, and I roll my eyes at their weird little bromance. Though, I suppose, if it weren’t for their bromance, I wouldn’t be nearly knocked out after the fucking of a lifetime.

‘I do have to say, though. You two have nothing on Billy and Stu,’ I say tiredly, the two of them scoffing. ‘Billy and Stu wish they were us,’ Mason says confidently, and I raise a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Okay. Which one of you is which then?’ I ask, both of them answering, ‘I’m Billy.’ I laugh as they bicker over who’s who, both of them making compelling arguments, but by the time they ask for my opinion, I’m almost fast asleep, a contented smile on my face.

#kepa arrizabalaga #mason mount #chelsea fc #kepa arrizabalaga smut #mason mount smut

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splinteredbone · 3 years ago

Text

baker’s choice

masterlist / navigation / @splinteredmercies

pairing: eddie munson x reader

contains: no spoilers for s4. mentions of drug consumption, edible production, and profanity. not edited, we die like men.

wc: 1.13 k

author’s note: inspired by that one episode of derry girls where michelle makes edibles but they’re scones. anyway, please enjoy girlboss!reader ‘cause sis is literally running an edible empire in the sleepy town of hawkins all by themselves!! lmk if i should continue this. i might because i think the ending is lacking but i literally wrote this while at my graduation ceremony lol. (p.s., all my reader inserts are gender neutral, poc friendly, and very vague with the physical characteristics unless stated otherwise.)

Daylight had ceased from entering your kitchen hours ago, your counter was littered with baking utensils, and you fought the urge to lick the double chocolate brownie batter off the whisk.

Under any other circumstances, you would lick some of it off before throwing it in the sink to be washed, food safety be damned. But you knew better. The thick batter on the whisk wasn’t the usual. Your recipe had been altered to include one more ingredient: weed.

You didn’t like how weed made you feel while high—anxious, paranoid, and grogginess. The side effects never changed whether you smoked it or ate it. But, fuck, did edibles bring in money.

Not that you really needed it. Both of your parents worked good jobs, but it sent them miles away from Hawkins for months at a time and they sent a hefty check every two weeks. It left you alone with nothing to do, so baking—cooking in general, really—became a mechanism to avoid the reality of your house being way too big for one teenager in high school.

You set your timer to twenty-five minutes and placed it back on the counter. It’d be enough time to clean up before sitting down to cut up brownies and individually wrap them with plastic wrap and your labels.

You paused when you realized Jenny’s cookies were still sitting on the dining room table. Christ, I forgot to call her. She’ll have my head, it’s for her fucking birthday party.

Shaking your head, you went to your telephone to call her about the cookies. Meanwhile, you thought about how you had to go to Eddie Munson’s trailer to get more weed. Ugh.

It was nearing midnight when you pulled up to Munson’s trailer. You didn’t want to be here, not so late and on a Friday night, but you needed to replenish your weed stock. You had a large order to be prepped for Saturday night. (Or was it for tonight?)

You exited your car and were about to knock when Munson’s door swung open.

The lanky man leaned on the doorway, watching as you squinted at the sudden amount of light. “You look like shit.”

“It’s midnight and I’ve been awake since five. I think I can allow myself to look like shit, Munson.” You pushed past him and entered the trailer. “I’m here for the usual.”

You scanned your surroundings and realized it was… neater. Frowning briefly, you turned back to Munson, only to see his eyes snap back to your face.

No wonder he was quiet, you mused, not at all bothered that he was checking you out.

You were wearing shorts—ones you had made yourself from an old pair of Levi’s that had become too stained from mud and grass to be salvaged—and a band t-shirt from middle school that somehow still fit you.

“Nice shirt.”

You stared at Munson for a moment and then looked down. The painted faces of KISS stared up at you. “Thanks. I think it’s a real shame they stopped painting their faces. It’s what really brought that mysterious appeal to them, you know?”

You looked back up at Munson. A beat of silence ensued. You became worried and leaned toward him. “Hey, are you okay? I just want my weed, I can always come back in the morning.”

He blinked, seemingly coming out of a daze. He didn’t seem high though. You watched as he turned away, mumbling something to himself that you could not decipher.

“What do you even do with all this?” Munson questioned as he brought you what you wanted.

“Why are you asking?”

“I doubt you can smoke it all, not with how frequently you’re here.” He tilted his head to the side and smiled. “And I asked around too. No vices of any kind. So, what do you do with all that weed?”

You fought back a shiver at hearing Munson say your name—softly, intimately, downright reverently—at the end of his question.

“My only vice is sex.” The statement fell out of your mouth faster than your brain could stop it. Horrified, you sputtered, “That’s a joke—just a really, really dumb joke—”

Munson laughed, harder than you’d ever seen him laugh. Something about his laugh made you feel better. You laughed with him and felt your shoulders relax.

“I make edibles,” you answered his question from earlier. “I sell to the people who don't like smoking it, don’t want their parents finding any buds laying around, or too lazy to make it themselves.”

“And people actually buy it?”

You scoffed. “I always come back to buy more weed, don’t I?”

You grabbed the bag out of Munson’s hand with a little more heat than necessary. Throwing the money down on the nearest flat surface, you started walking out. “See you around, Munson.”

“Wait—! I didn’t mean—” You turned around with raised eyebrows. Munson continued sputtering, “I just think that it’s… cool. That’s all.”

He leaned on the doorway to the trailer, and you could tell he was trying to look nonchalant.

An idea popped up in your head. Debating with yourself, you looked between Munson and your car.

You motioned toward your car. “Want to try one?”

He jumped away from the doorway and made a beeline to the passenger seat. “Thought you’d never ask.”

You felt odd brining Eddie Munson into your home. It was one thing to enter his trailer—most people with an illegal vice in Hawkins went inside of his trailer. But no one had been in your house before, you always made deliveries and drop-offs to avoid so many people entering your space.

You toed off your shoes and Munson followed; your sock clad feet made no noise compared to his boots thudding behind you.

“What are you craving? I have double chocolate brownies and M&M cookies.” You asked as you entered the kitchen and turned your head to look at him. You didn’t why, but he seemed very attractive all of a sudden.

“Baker’s choice”

Rolling your eyes, you hummed in confirmation and pushed away your earlier thoughts. Grabbing one of the many individually wrapped brownies from earlier, you chucked at him and he caught it flawlessly.

How can someone look good catching a pot brownie? You thought, frustrated with yourself.

You watched, like a fucking creep, as he ate the brownie.

“This is really good,” Munson said in between bites.

“Thanks.” You looked away sheepishly, leaning against the counter. Feeling emboldened, you added, “If you think that’s good, you should try my lasagna. I’ve perfected my recipe over the years.”

You dared a glance at Munson.

“Is that an invitation?”

You shrugged. Now, it was your turn to look nonchalant. “Maybe.”

He beamed at you. “It’s a date then.”

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #mine.one-shots #ch.eddie munson #tv.stranger things

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book-place · 3 years ago

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Idiots Meet Math

Warnings: cursing (?), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Marc Spector x daughter reader, Steven Grant x reader platonic

Request: Could you do one where Marc and Steven help the reader study for a test? The reader is Marc’s daughter

(I hope this is what you were looking for! If it’s not then lmk and I’ll do my best to fix it!!)

Request by: @ip747

*not my gif*

Summary: Studying is difficult enough, add two grown men who can’t seem to get along into the mix, and it’s even harder… but also kind of entertaining

A/N: This must not be my day because this is really crappy writing and it’s short- sorry in advance

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You let out a groan, throwing your head back against the headrest as your eyes closed.

The frustration you had been feeling began to become more and more of an issue, rising until you could begin to feel a headache coming on.

“What is it?” You heard your dad, Marc, call from the kitchen, sticking his head out from around the corner to look at you.

“Trying to study for a test.” You grumbled, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“On what?” He asked, going back to making dinner for all of you, the smell of your favorite meal filling the air.

Another groan escaped your lips, “Math.”

“Oh,” A British voice now rang out from the other room, “We can help with that.”

You looked up in surprise as he entered the room, wiping his hands on a towel, “You’re good at math?”

Marc appeared and shrugged, “I was okay.”

“Liar.” Steven said, going right back to fronting, “We failed our maths class miserably.”

“Shut up, Steven.” Marc said in slight annoyance, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to you, “Just see what you can do to help.”

Steven rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. All right, calm your horses.”

He pulled some glasses out of his pockets and put them on the bridge of his nose, looking down at the question you were on for your review packet.

“Let’s see here,” He mumbled, mostly to himself, “‘If the coefficient of the unknown number is thirty four divided by seven, and you multiply that by six-“ He cut himself off, eyebrows furrowing as he brought the paper closer to his face, “What the bloody hell is this?”

You threw your hands up in return, “I have no freaking clue, man.”

“Okay, okay, wait,” He continued, putting up a hand subconsciously, “Let’s see what we have here… should we just take the six and-“

“No, Steven, you idiot.” Marc said, a little louder than he needed to, “You don’t start with the six- you never start with the six! That’s common knowledge.”

Your eyebrows shot up in your dad's direction, “Don’t start with the six? I thought Steven was actually on to something there.”

“Thank you.” The British man made a brief appearance before quickly being replaced by your father once more.

“No, no. Trust me, kid. You definitely start with the thirty four.” Marc tried to reason.

“Uhh, no.” Steven said sassily in a ‘duh’ tone, “I definitely don’t think we should do that.”

“What do you know?” Your father- practically- yelled angrily, “You failed your math class!”

“And so did you!” Steven challenged back, sticking his tongue out at the closest mirror where you knew he was seeing your dad.

“Well,” You tried to break up the fighting, taking the paper out of Stevens hand, “When the teacher was explaining it-“

“Screw what the teacher said.” Marc spat out, snatching the paper back out and glaring at it, “Just do it my way.”

This caused you to let out a sigh, he clearly didn’t care about you actually getting it right anymore, he just wanted to be petty and try to be better than his alter by proving him wrong.

“Dad, I really think-“

“How can Steven even see with these things on?” Marc rhetorically asked angrily, ripping the glasses off of his nose and winding his arm up as if to throw it at the wall.

“Oh no you don’t.” Steven spoke, quickly stopping the arm before it could send the- probably very expensive- accessory soaring across the room. Again.

“Guys, listen I’ll just go into my room to study-“

“No, no.” Steven smoothed out his shirt, gently handing you back the packet, “Marc won’t be a problem anymore.”

Your eyes widened, “You killed him?” You shrieked in horror.

It was then the man’s turn to have his eyes widen, “Wh-what? No! I’m just saying that Marc promised to behave now!”

You visibly relaxed and smiled slightly, “Oh.”

Steven looked plain terrified, “You thought I killed him?”

You just shrugged nonchalantly, “You can never tell these days.” You informed him.

Marc fronted, running a hand down his face, “You need to stop watching so much tv, kid.”

You shushed him and rolled your eyes playfully, going back to looking at your packet, “Now if you two are done acting like children, could you please help me try to figure this out?”

Both of them took their turns fronting and agreeing to your statement as well as apologizing- the last part was very reluctantly done so by your father.

Together, the three of you were able to get through the packet with only a little bit more arguing. And before long, you finally felt that you were ready to take your test the next day.

And you did, getting a solid ninety five percent.

Steven was so proud of you, hugging you as soon as he heard, while Marc on the other hand didn’t believe you until you showed him the paper. He had thought for sure you weren’t going to understand what was on the test. Not because he underestimated you, but because he thought that he and Steven had done a terrible job at helping you.

But he was just as proud- if not more- when you finally convinced him that he actually did help you pass.

Needless to say, next time you needed assistance studying, the two of them were more than glad to lend some helping hands… after arguing about it amongst themselves for a while, of course.

Like a Bee 🐝- @ip747 @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #teen reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight #moon knight x reader #mk x reader #steven grant x reader #Marc Spector x daughter reader #Steven Grant x reader platonic #mk imagine #moon knight imagine #mk #daughter reader

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

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Bye Bye, Baby (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

May or may not have just written this in an hour. Also may or may not be based off the new Taylor Swift song. Based on this ask!

Also lmk if y’all want a part two because this does have an unhappy(?) ending, so...

Warnings: angst, mentions of being pregnant, mentions of puking

Word count: a lil over 1k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || Don’t You (Part Two)

It wasn’t like in the movies.

You were foolish, you’ll admit, to think that getting your heart broken like this would be like the movies. Where he’d run after you, kiss you to make it better, confess his undying love, and beg for your forgiveness.

No, Aaron did none of that.

You knew dating a coworker -- your boss, rather -- would be a slippery slope, but you didn’t care. You thought he didn’t, either.

Until he called you into his office and broke up with you.

You wish there was something more to it. A big argument, an email from Strauss or even the director, a massive clash in lifestyles. But there was none of that. No one, not even the team, knew about your relationship with Hotch. There was no thinly veiled warning email from Strauss. Your lifestyles didn’t clash, they fit together perfectly.

But you guess “perfect” is never really as perfect as it seems.

‘Cause I still love you, but I can’t

You had thought it was because you were looking to transfer. You love the BAU, but you wanted to do something more. And to be frank, you were getting tired of seeing Aaron all day but having to pretend. You wanted to see him at home without the relief from pretending all day. You wanted to be able to tell people.

But when you brought up transferring to him, it didn’t cause an argument. He was supportive. You were foolish enough to assume this meant he wanted what you wanted, too. You didn’t know he would end things.

Luckily, having the transfer as an excuse for your departure made it easier. Everyone knew it was coming, your going away party was already planned by Garcia. Hotch conveniently left after half an hour because of an urgent phone call.

Bye bye, to everything I thought was on my side/Bye bye, baby

You transferred just two weeks after the breakup, and soon you were in a new apartment, at a new job, with a new life. You kept up with Garcia and Morgan, but only occasionally. Surprisingly, neither of them ever asked you about Hotch.

Despite it being a secret, you were almost positive they knew and would say something after you left, but it never came.

Months later, you went out for drinks with your new coworkers, but the night was cut short. You were one shot in when you threw up the first time.

You went back to your apartment, promising your coworker, Dannie, that you’d call her if you needed anything. Your promise was an automatic, autopilot response because your heart was hammering in your chest.

Your cycle has always been sporadic. When you realized you were a week late yesterday, you thought nothing of it. But now, you were panicking.

You wanted to go get a pregnancy test yourself, but the room was spinning and with every move you felt like you might puke again. So, keeping your promise, you texted Dannie.

She was at your doorstep in ten minutes, box of pregnancy tests in hand.

“Want me to stay with you?” She had asked.

You felt weird, having only known her for a short time, but you said yes. You didn’t want to be alone if the test was positive.

Letting Dannie stay was a good call.

All three tests were positive.

“Do you know who the father might be?” She asked, meaning well.

You nodded slowly. “Unfortunately.”

“Oh no,” she frowned. “Is he a jackass?”

You wanted to agree. You wanted to say yes, actually, he’s a giant jackass. But the truth is that Aaron isn’t and never was. He was nothing but good to you.

“It’s complicated,” you settled on. “Thanks for staying.”

“No problem,” she said. “If you’re good, I’ve gotta head out to feed Onyx.”

Her cat. “Yeah, go ahead. I’m okay. Thank you again.”

“It’s no problem,” she assured you with a smile.

Nine months later, you gave birth to a baby girl, Juliet, at six in the morning, and Dannie was there.

You asked her to be your daughter’s Godmother that night, and she said yes without hesitation.

+++

Four years later

Grocery shopping with a toddler is never fun, but damn does Juliet make it entertaining.

Currently, she’s trying very hard to convince you that she absolutely, without a doubt, needs these specific chocolate chip cookies.

“We have some at home already, munchkin.”

“I know,” she swings her legs, the zipper on her shoes clinking against the metal of the shopping cart she’s sitting in, “but these are...better.”

“Better, hm?” You raise your eyebrows, glancing up at the shelf to see if they have your favorite cereal. “How so?”

This single question keeps her occupied for another few minutes while you grab a couple of things from the surrounding shelves.

“Tell you what,” you start pushing the cart down the aisle. “If you promise to eat all your veggies tonight, then we can get the cookies.”

“Deal!”

“Alright,” you chuckle, tapping her nose lightly with your finger. “Let’s go get some veggies.”

That’s the plan, at least, until your cart rams right into someone else’s, and when you see who it belongs to, you nearly faint.

“Y/N?” Aaron asks, backing his cart up slowly.

“Hi,” you breathe.

Juliet turns around in her seat, scrunching her nose at Aaron. “Who’re you?”

“He’s my old boss, munchkin,” you explain quietly. “He’s not a stranger.”

Aaron’s heart twists painfully when you say old boss instead of an old friend or even ex-boyfriend. You’ve reduced him to an old coworker in your mind, but in his, you’ve always remained the greatest love he ever had.

“Hi Aaron,” Juliet says, then turns back to you. “Mommy, can we please get veggies? I’ll even eat broccoli.”

“Broccoli?” You gasp, Aaron completely forgotten for a moment.

Juliet nods firmly. “Anything for cookies.”

“Alright,” you reply with just as much enthusiasm. “Let’s go get some broccoli, then.”

You look back up to find Aaron watching you both with a smile, but a sad smile, the kind that you can’t quite place or read.

Truthfully, he’s at a loss for words. Here you are, after so many years, with a daughter who looks exactly like him.

“It was nice seeing you,” you say to Aaron, smiling brightly, smiling right through the pain.

“You too,” Aaron says quietly, letting you go for the second time.

There’s so much that I can’t touch/You’re all I want but it’s not enough this time

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #angst #aaron hotchner angst #hotch angst #criminal minds

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chop-chop-man-bun-3 · 3 years ago

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'86, baby

A/n: yes, me writing eddie angst because my brain said volume 2 wasn't enough. also please lmk if i missed any tags! Warnings: angst, volume 2 spoilers, character death, grab a box of tissues, if i missed any lmk! Word count: 863 (short, ikik)

Below the cut

You rushed over to Eddie the second you recognized it was his form lying there on the ground. Next thing he knew, his head was in your lap and you were holding onto him. He smiled weakly up at you. “You’re here…I’m glad you’re here Y/n.” He looked genuinely happy. Normally, you wouldn’t be able to help but smile, but given the circumstances, you were crying instead. Still, you tried your best to put on a brave face. Sadness was not what Eddie needed right now. “Hey…How are you feeling?” You asked, albeit a little scared to. It almost felt as if asking would mean losing him. It was silly, you knew that, but you couldn’t shake that feeling.

He laughed, and you knew he probably thought it was a stupid question, but he answered nonetheless, “As good as a person can be after being nibbled on by those bats, I guess.” You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Your sense of humor is still intact…That’s good.” You gave a little smile. That was the best you could muster right now. It was hard to be happy when your boyfriend was in your arms, clinging on to life. But no matter how much you wanted to believe he could walk away from this, both of you knew that wasn’t possible. He’d already lost too much blood. The only thing you could do for him right now was stay by his side and make him as comfortable as possible.

“Stay with me?” He asked. You nodded. “Like you needed to ask. I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you.” That was sort of true. He wouldn’t physically go anywhere, at least. “It’s your year. ‘86, baby. You can’t go anywhere now.” Both of you laughed a little. “You’re right, it was my year. I started dating you…I met Dustin…A lot of great things happened.” He smiled as he reflected on the good memories, but he was starting to cough up blood now. It didn’t take a doctor to know he didn’t have much time left now. Now was the time to say everything you still wanted to say, while you still had the chance.

“I love you, Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson,” You said softly. You had to say that, if nothing else. He had to hear it one last time before he slipped away. He had to be reminded that if no one else loved him, you did. He still had a smile on his face. You had no idea how he could still be smiling at a time like this. “I love you too, Y/n. God, you’re perfect and I do not deserve you.” You shook your head. “Don’t say that-” He cut you off. It was his turn to let you know everything he was feeling, everything he didn’t say. “You saw the good in me when no one did. You were always by my side, through everything…Thank you for not giving up on me.” You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you. Somehow, everything he just said made the fact that he was indeed dying impossibly more real to you. “Of course. I’m glad I got to know you.” You were able to muster another small, brief smile. “And I’m glad I got to know you.” A couple tears spilled from his eyes as he spoke. He had been putting on a brave face, just as you initially tried to do.

You noticed he hadn’t blinked for a minute. “Eddie?” You called his name, your tone barely above a whisper. He didn’t respond. “Eddie?” You called a little louder, somehow convincing yourself for a moment that he couldn’t hear you, even though he was close enough to hear you whisper. Deep down, you knew that, but you didn’t want to accept the fact that he was gone. Not yet. You still had so much to say, he couldn’t be gone yet.

You kept calling his name and gently shaking him until Dustin came over. The poor boy didn’t know what to do, he’d never seen you like this. “Y/n…He’s gone. Eddie’s gone,” He said, trying to be as gentle with his tone as possible. “No, no…Not yet. I still had so much to say.” You were stumbling on your words. You hardly realized how hard you were crying. Your words were almost incoherent given you were saying them through sobs. Dustin looked sympathetic and sorry for you. “I know - But he’s gone, and we have to go.”

You didn’t get up immediately. Dustin had to keep telling you that you had to leave the Upside Down now. You didn’t want to leave Eddie, even though you knew he couldn’t see, hear, or feel you anymore. Watching Eddie die was way more painful than you ever could’ve imagined.

You never felt quite right again after that day. Every night, you’d dream that Eddie was still alive and you two were safe and sound, cuddling in bed. Every morning, you’d wake up to the same nightmare that Eddie was gone. You couldn’t help but notice that the world seemed a lot less bright without Eddie, and it would never be the same again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things s4

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skzwhoree · 3 years ago

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More Than Friends (Part 2)

HI I AM BACK, SORRY I FOR THE LATE POST I JUST GOT CAUGHT UP IN WATCHING NEW K-DRAMAS.

Genre- Pure smut of about 0.7k words.

(Plot- A relationship of bfwb changes to something more, When Han and you confess for each other)

part 1

Tags- @a-katsukitty Thank you for suggesting this, here is a part 2!

Content- Pet names (baby), slight bondage, bdsm?, Stoner!jisung, Usage of scissors (to cut off clothes), Usage of vibrator, Usage of the word Cunt, cum!eating. (lmk if i missed out on anything)

Pairing- Dom!Jisung x Fem!reader

Word Count- 1k

CONTENT WARNING- 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. DNI IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE FROM ANYTHING.

I have listed the content warnings already, please interact at your own discretion.

Let me know if there are any mistakes, english is not my first language. Enjoyy :)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jisung’s birthday was around the corner, and surprisingly enough you already knew what your gift to him was going to be.

You had seen a beautiful knitted cardigan online that you knew would look really cute on Han, and this could be a cute gift, an innocent gift, had you not seen something intriguing. They were cuffs. But made of leather, had belts to it, and seemed so interesting. You were never quite a fan of tying up and bondage or toys, but something about the thought of Jisung using these things on you, just turned you on so much.

The day had arrived, the clock struck midnight and there you were, next to your (now) boyfriend, Jisung. He cut the cake you brought for him in excitement and you handed him the gift, he opened it like a child on Christmas, to find a cute Black cardigan.

In his excitement, he pulled the cardigan out of the box, completely ignoring the belts lying underneath, and tried it on, “How do I look ?” he asks you twirling around in his new favorite clothing. “Umm, I don’t know, maybe, like my baby?” you say to him giggling, but then he finally notices the layer of belts in the box. His expression suddenly changed, “What’s this?” he asks as he pulls out the belted handcuffs, he looked at the item in a confused expression.

“I felt the need to give you, more than just a cardigan on your special day…” you mumble as you look down at your palms placed on your lap, You didn’t know that this could get that embarrassing.

Jisung, who was still trying to figure what the belts were, soon realized that the item he had been holding in his hands for quite a time was a bondage toy, his expression changed from confusion to lust in a second “Didn’t know my baby could be this naughty, how could you be this bad to gift something so unholy?” he walks up to you and places his index finger on your chin to lift your head up, “looks like you have another gift, shall we see that?”

“Sungie…”

“Quiet now” he says as he picks you up and takes you to his room, placing you on the bed, You didn’t know what he was up to, he opened the drawer of the side-table and pulled out a pair of scissors, and something you assumed was his recent purchase since it looked pretty new, a pink vibrator.

“let’s tie you up baby, I wanna use my gift as I wish”

In a matter of a second you were tied to the top of the bed and jisung was on top of you, he started to cut the thin white tee you were bold enough to wear even though you were completely naked inside, Han had been resisting for quite a long time since all his brain could focus on, were your prominent nipples that peeked from the material all this time.

Ripping the t-shirt apart, he now turned the vibrator on. Leaning in to kiss you, he placed the vibrating machine on your nips, you moan at the feeling.

“want more sungie!” you whine, craving his touch, his words, Him. “want me to touch you, huh? Want me to make you cum all over my fingers? ” he reaches for your shorts and pulls them down with the satin panty you were wearing. His rough thumb rubbing your clit, the vibrator taking its place at times, and his long fingers thrusting hard in and out of you. The room fills with your moans and screams, jisung knew how you liked it, fast and hard.

“gonna cum, gonna cum hannie” you wriggle as you struggle with your tied hands, and it just makes you look hotter than ever, your naked body wanting to hold him. Jisung gets even more turned on by the sight. Cumming all over his fingers and knuckles, you let out a loud moan, your legs clutching his neck and pulling him in, he places a soft kiss on your clit.

“What’s that baby? Want to hold me?” he mocks as he sees you getting impatient “y-yes sungie please untie me please!!!”

“Only if you let me use this little cunt of yours as I wish first.”

“need you in me, fill me up please” with those words Jisung sprung his cock out, turned your body to face the bed and lifted your hips to get you on your knees.

“still so tight” he forced his entire length inside of you without a warning, causing you to scream, your voice muffled by the pillows. He thrusted hard in to you, picking up a fast pace. You hear your wetness and the sloppy slapping sounds of skin. His cock twitches inside of you as he’s about to cum and then pulling out his length, he strokes it a few times to finally let out the white sticky liquid, painting your belly and tits.

“Look what a fucked up mess you are for me, already dizzy and you haven’t even came twice yet”

You were dazed, eyes somewhere back behind your head, overstimulated from the pain and pleasure. “my hands hurt sungie please let me out” you plead as you crave to touch him, “shhh”

Jisung puts his cock in you once again, “not till I make my baby feel just as good as she made me” not even a minute in, and you were already creaming around his cock, your legs shaking.

He sinks into your throbbing cunt, Licking the cum off your folds, he slowly travelled upwards to kiss you deeply, making you taste yourself.

“I guess I’ve taught you quite a good lesson for your naughtiness today” he chuckles as he unties your hands from the belted handcuffs, kissing your red wrists.

“I liked it….” You whisper softly in his ear, “oh yeah? Then how about you tie me up next time and show me what you’ve got?”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #kpop #kpop smut #han jisung smut #han jisung #female reader #smut #fluff #stray kids #request #series #skz fluff #episode

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ahfbhdfgdx · 4 years ago

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Please | Diluc x f!reader (NSFW)

Summary: diluc tries out some aphrodisiacs on u <3

Warnings: Smut, aphrodisiacs, intoxication, slight dubcon, oral, unprotected sex (lmk if i forgot any!)

Note: First post! If you like my writing, requests for nsfw or sfw are greatly appreciated :)

"Are you sure this is going to work..?" Diluc peered into the little vial that Albedo had bestowed upon him. It was a little bit foggy in there, a light pink tone. "This little of an amount too?"

Albedo nodded in silence, then walked back to his desk. "I think you'll find it actually works quite well. If it doesn't, let me know." He sat down and straightened the loose papers that were strewn across the tabletop. Diluc simply nodded in thanks and scurried out, closing the door behind him.

-xxx-

The sun has long set, nearing about midnight. Diluc stood in the tavern among the last few patrons chugging down their drinks. He wiped glass after glass, occasionally checking the clock. When would you finally be here, he thought to himself, placing another glass away.

"Don't get so worked up over her, Di!" Kaeya laughed, words slurring a little. He was sat at the counter with Rosaria. The rain pounded heavily on roof of the building, sending Diluc into further panic, although he hid it well. Maybe you had gotten caught in the rain? You could catch pneumonia out there! He tossed the rag down and leaned on the counter to catch a breath.

Rosaria glanced at Kaeya, both of them equally intoxicated and giggly, and turned back to Diluc. "Yeah, why are you so tensed up about her? It's not like she needs to abide by tavern hours anyway, she'll get here when she gets here!" She shouted the last line a little, Diluc scoffing at the stupor of these two. The tavern was closing in only half an hour. He could leave it open just for the two of you, it would make it easier anyway.

Suddenly, the door whipped open, and there you were, squeezing out your hair outisde the door. Head to toe, you were dripping wet. The three last people in the tavern turned to look at you as you laughed sheepishly. "I missed the forecast," you shivered and came to the bar counter, leaning over to kiss Diluc on the cheek, much to the delight of Kaeya and Rosaria.

He tensed up looking at you. Even fresh out of the pouring rain and all disheveled, you were still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. You had mentioned being ok with what he was going to do before, so he knew that he wasn't in the wrong, but the feeling of doing something so taboo got him going, especially with you standing right in front of him.

Glancing at the time, 12:30 am, he quickly ushered the drunken Kaeya and Rosaria out of the bar. "Shall I get you a towel to dry off?" He patted your soaked hair as he turned to the stairs. "Nonono," you laughed, "Drink first. Then towel."

He gulped. Now was the time he needed to do it, arousal and nerves swirling around his mind. "As you wish," He breathed out as he poured a glass of dandelion wine, your favourite. While his tall frame was turned against you, he carefully slid the vial out of his pocket, pouring it into the glass. It dissolved quite neatly, save a few sparks that flew out.

He picked up the drink, turning around and placing it hastily down in front of you. Giving him a weird look, you picked up the drink and looked at it for a good few seconds. Shit, I've been caught, he thought as he stared straight into your confused eyes. Shrugging, you took a swig of the wine.

Eyes widening, you looked up at his looming figure, "This is great! Did you put something in it?" You joked and giggled as you took another sip. His heart skipped a beat and shook his head. "I'll go get you that towel," Diluc started climbing the stairs, looking down over the railing to see you take another swig.

Looking down on the glass in front of you, your head started to feel a little floaty. Your wet skin started to feel a little warmer, maybe the warmth of the tavern was helping. That's all you thought, until you started feeling a pulsing feeling. Where's Diluc is all you thought as you took another short sip from the oh so delicious wine.

Diluc came back down the stairs, sneaking up behind you to place the towel over your now damp hair. Whipping around, you grabbed onto his waist and pulled him closer. "Diiiiiiluc.." You groaned into his stomach. "I'm so hot.. and so wet.." Your doe eyes looked up to him, gauging his response. His crimson red eyes looked back down on yours, starting to fill with lust.

He thought whether to just satisfy you now, or let you finish the substance he oh so intensely bargained for. "Don't you want to finish your drink?" In your foggy brain, anything Diluc says goes, so you nodded, still cuddled in his chest. He could get used to this, he thought as he gently grabbed the back of your head.

Bending down to whisper in your ear, "Would you some help with that?" You nodded again, turning your head to try and kiss him. "Yes please, Luc." That set a light inside of him as he picked up your spiked drink, pulling your head back a little. Moving the glass up to your lips, you parted them just enough to latch onto the glass, drinking it thirstily as he tilted the glass further and further, right till the very last drop.

As the wine went down your throat, you felt a sudden jolt of pleasure, moaning into Diluc's arms as he picked you up. It was as if any touch had you off the rails. As Diluc carried you up the steps to the third floor of the tavern, you peppered little kisses and nips all over his neck and cheek. "Where are we going..?" You breathed into his neck as he pushed the top floor door open with his hip.

Diluc placed you down carefully on the guest room bed, then stood back to admire the blank canvas in front of him. How beautiful you were lying there, moaning as you grabbed onto the bedsheets, a hungry expression on your face.

"Diluc, come here," you called out, shaking him out of his trance. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you, pinning you down. "Yes, my dear?" He cooed, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. You in turn grabbed his collar a bit harsher than you meant to, staring straight into his moonlit eyes. "Fuck me, Diluc." You whispered just close enough for him to hear. "I need it. Please fuck me.." You trailed off, feeling him start to trail his mouth down your neck.

"As you wish," He smirked slightly, unbuttoning your shirt one by one. "You really want it that badly, darling?" You nodded your head vigorously in return, threading your hands in his red locks. "I need you Dilu-" You were cut off by the man biting your hard nipple. Moans escaped your mouth in a steady flow as he licked and sucked it, playing with the other in his hand. "M-More please!!" You cried as the spike really started to set in, causing an unsatiable fire inside of you.

"You're so greedy, you know that?" Diluc growled, pinching your nipple with his hot fingers, it felt like a zap in your system. "I did this to you and no one else," He continued as he bit at you more and more. "By the end of tonight, the only thing that'll still be in your mind is me.." Only half of it registered in your mind, but the sound of his low voice vibrating through your system is all you needed to remember.

"Repeat it, my love.." He raised his face to be inches away from you, slowly reaching his hand down your unbuttoned pants, "Only I can make you feel this way." He toyed his finger at your entrance as you gathered the words in your mind.

"Only you can make me-"

He shoved his fingers inside you deep in, finishing your sentence with a scream. "D-Diluc-!" You huffed out as he started pushing in and out fast, curling at your g-spot. "More! More-" You yelped, bucking your hips, pushing his fingers in further. "Oh you want more?" He licked your jaw, sucking at the rainwater still left over. "Almost.. There-" You prepared to have the orgasm of a lifetime but was stopped short by Diluc pulling his fingers out.

You whimpered as he raised himself back up to your level. You were so cute laying there quivering, he thought. "What do you desire, y/n?" He inquired, toying with your wet hair strands, your face now a mix of rainwater, sweat, and tears of joy. "Give it to me, DIluc," You pushed his head down, craving that sweet release that was stripped from you.

He scoffed at your selfishness as he pulled down you pants and underwear, as if he didn't do this to you. He'll make you understand the manners you need to use for him. His tongue slit against your throbbing clit, sending you back on the ride. as he dined on your clit, his hand found its way back to your sopping entrance, continuing the pace he was going at before.

Your sight was blurry as you looked down, all you could see was the shape of Diluc. Him and the stars that filled your vision. You've never felt like this before, each lick and suck he did felt like its own orgasm. Diluc's doing this. Diluc's the one making you feel like this. Only he can make you feel this way. The words he put in your mind were the only words left at all as he took your brain away piece by piece, he was all that was left.

"Diluc.. Diluc.. Diluc!!" You screamed as you got pushed to the very edge. Suddenly, as if he could tell you were about to fully become his, he pulled himself away again. Tears rolled down your pretty cheeks as you brought your hand down, needing to finish yourself but to no avail. "Tsk," He sat himself up, giving you his fingers to suck off.

"I'm afraid only I can make you cum, my dear.." He peeled your hand away from your clit, and you moaned in defiance, at least as much as you could with his fingers in your mouth. "But you made a vital mistake," He took his fingers out, trailing them gently down your waist. "You didn't say please."

"P-Please Diluc.." You choked out, taking extra time to remember the word please, all you could think of is Diluc. "There you go! Was it that hard?" He tucked your disheveled hair behind your ear as he unbuckled his pants, taking the pants and shirt off. "Now you'll get what you deserve, my love." You pulled his underwear down in a frenzy, positioning his hard cock right at your entrance to take the work off his hands. "Oh how kind you are, y/n, positioning my own cock for me." He smiled a rare gleam as he pushed himself into you, finally getting to moan.

"You're s-so beautiful, so perfect," He complimented you for every deep thrust he blessed you with, "And you're mine." He growled the last one as he sped up his pace. Your head lolled back and all you could see is red in your vision. Not that you were to notice, but all you've been doing is chanting his name as you bounced from his thrusts.

"You come when I come," he pushes the words out with great effort as his pushes got shakier. Your legs were already shaking violently from being edged like you had, and you nodded your head as best as you could. "Ready?" He called out as he thrusted the deepest he could go.

"3... 2... 1..." He came with a loud groan right in your ear as you cried out his name, clawing at his back to get as close as possible. He filled you up to the very brim, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he slowly thrusted, coming down from his high.

Your eyes stayed close as he took himself out, resting on top of you with his hands in your hair.

"I love you darling.." He whispered as he pulled the covers over the two of you, but to silent ears. "Y/n..?" He lifted himself slightly to get a better view of you. There was no way you were going to have any senses for a good day at least. He sighed into a smile, and cuddled up close.

#diluc smut #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin smut #genshin lemon #diluc #genshin imagines #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact

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mashiraostail · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I please get some Gang Orca, Aizawa, Vlad King and Present Mic when their S/O knows they've been having a rough week and they surprise their mans with lingerie and an evening of... *ahem* Stress relief? Also some pampering and snuggles!

o my gosh i love this song this is kinda on the longer side i have diverged into the world of p o rn

ns fw under the cut (i think it’s pretty gender neutral lmk tho!)

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: Kugo tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve in private with you, stress was no different. He was clearly stretched out beyond his normal limits, and by the looks of it, he still had a ways further to go. He always got a little short with you when his work became tedious, not in a mean way just in a curt way. One word answers to your questions became favorable and for better or worse he mostly just liked to be left alone. He apologized after things were sorted he knows you’re only worried and trying to check in with him but when things pile up he gets overwhelmed even by your simple questions. You could feel the irritation appearing on Monday night, and it only piled as the week progressed, by the end of it the poor man was about to spill over with his annoyance. You were working quietly across the room from him, much less stressful and more leisurely assignments that didn’t make your heart leap out of your throat, you watch him tap his pen around on his desk, prattling the black plastic as he sat on the phone, after a moment he just hung up and sighed, that was the fourth interaction like that within the hour. You watched him forlornly, you wished there was some way for you to help relieve the tension in his shoulders, something you could say or do that would put him at ease rather than overwhelm him further. As you pondered it you realized that maybe there was something. You stand up suddenly, and the unexpected motion leads Kugo to turn and look at you expectantly. “I’m going to get ready for bed I think.” You sigh, “I’m pretty exhausted so it’s probably best to call it an early night.” It was at least worth a try, even if he’d say no, “you look tired too.” You press a kiss just below his eye, “why don’t you join me?” He shakes his head, “In a little while. I’ll be quiet.” “I wasn’t worried about that.” You squeeze his shoulders, “don’t work too hard, okay Kugo?” He just hums back at you as you leave. You were sort of worried you’d lost it, you’d boughten it a while ago but got too nervous to even put it on by yourself let alone in front of someone else. It wasn’t that you thought he wouldn’t like it, you were pretty sure Kugo could find a way to compliment you if you were wearing a trash bag, it just felt...strange. Embarrassing maybe. You couldn’t pin the word but it made you flutter nervously. When you do manage to dig it up you contemplate it for a second. You decide the nervousness will be worthwhile if it helps relieve Kugo even a little bit. You wonder how to go about it, should you just walk across the hall and bust in his office? That feels sort of curt. You look around for a moment before an idea percolates. “Kugo!” You call out to him, trying to keep an indifferent tone, “can you come here a second? I need a hand!” You hear him sigh, and you’re half expecting him to call back that the step ladder is in the kitchen. But you sit on the edge of your bed in wait, trying to look less nervous and more appealing. “What’s the matter? I’m very-” Blue, dark navy blue and barely there. He really wasn’t expecting this. He could practically see all of you, sitting on the edge of the mattress, legs crossed, thin satiny straps hardly holding the frail garment together, he’s sure just one tug from his finger would send it fluttering to the ground. He feels sort of bad for letting so much annoyance bubble up in him when you called for him. But now something else was bubbling up. It was like you’d packaged yourself up for him.. well he supposed you quite literally did. “Are you busy?” You can feel his gaze latch onto you, his eyes taking you in, up and down rapidly over and over again. “No..not...very..”

It really doesn’t take much coaxing to get him undressed and into bed. After a while of kissing him while his hands roam around the sheer blue lace that just scarcely covered you, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. You’d been together for a while, and you were never one to hold out on him, he isn’t sure why he’s on cloud nine right now, it’s not like he’d never gotten this sort of thing from you before, your hands, mouth, and a lot more than that were always there. If he wanted you all he had to do was ask. But something about you doing this for him, because he was stressed...the way you did all this just to relieve him? It was too sweet, combined with the sight of you in that perfect outfit on your knees for him and the feeling of your lips and hands playing with his already hard cock was more than enough to wash the tension away. It cleared his head of anything but you. Big hands pull your mouth off his length, the drool and precum around your lower lip, paired with the redness washed over your face and the obscene plumpness in your lips that the stretch of his cock left behind would have been enough to make him beg if you felt any need to withhold from him. Lucky for him you did not. “Kugo-” You let him spread your legs, tread careful fingers between them pressing in one, then another while he holds you up in his lap, leaning you against his chest for leverage. “What a sweet thing you are...” His chest rumbles with it, “did you go to this trouble all to make me feel better?” His fingers knew their way around too well, his other hand splayed on your chest, careful to simply push or slide underneath the lace rather than remove it, palms and fingertips occasionally brushing over your nipple, all you can do is keen and nod. “You did?” His hand on your chest pushes you closer, “that makes me so happy my love.” “Kugo-” You call for him again and he hums as you clutch his wrist, the one between your legs. “I’m right here. Hm... What would I do without you?” He murmurs it close to your ear, it sends a full-body shudder down your frame, “you always take such good care of me, and I was being cold to you wasn’t I?” “No,” you shake your head, your whole face is burning, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment at the exposure, “you weren’t-” “But I was.” He sighs, “and now I’m sorry, how can I make it up to you?” “Kugo- I just want you,” you gasp, fingers tightening around his arm, “please Kugo,” his fingers leave you at that, the loss makes your whole abdomen stutter. “Turn around and face me.” You follow his order with shaking thighs. “Aren’t you lovely?” His tongue slides over your chest as two big hands curl around the small of your back. “Can you do it?” His question falls on deaf ears, you’re already lining him up and starting to take him in, the groan that rumbles out of him only spurs you on until you’ve worked yourself up to hysterics bouncing in his lap, his low grunted praises pushing you closer to the proverbial edge by the second. You’re a nice view, Kugo’s surprised he’s lasted so long with it. He watches the flush extend down your chest, his hand occasionally treks down the small of your back to your hips, then down still to feel the stretch of you around his length, until he's just about there, then he’s guiding all your movements, pushing and lifting you with ease, an almost bruising grip gets you to roll your hips against his. You’re sheathed totally in his lap when you both finish. He enjoys watching your chest heave as you come down from it, then you fall against him. “You really do look lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, keeping you in place. “You think so?” You shuffle up his chest, “well I’m glad. I don’t know why I was nervous..” “Nervous?” His tongue glides along your neck, “about how you looked?” “Maybe, I don’t know. I thought maybe you wouldn’t like it, I...I guess I don’t know what I thought to be honest.” “Whatever you want to give to me I’d be delighted to have.” He nips your earlobe and you sigh, coiling a leg around him as he continues, “even when I get a little short with you, you’re always what I want. I’m a pushover when it comes to you.” He concedes, and then you remember. “Sorry to pull you away from all your work. I just wanted to help...” “No need to be sorry, you did help..” He’s rubbing long, tender strokes up your back, “and anyways it was an emergency.”

Shouta Aizawa: Stress wasn’t foreign to the erasure hero, though stress that came from being behind on work presented a certain dilemma. He dealt with stress by sleeping, but in this case...well sleeping would only make it worse. So he got even less sleep than normal. He was irritable at best and downright rude at worst. He’d apologize later, he always did, but at the moment all he wanted was to be left along to plug away at all the responsibilities he’d neglected until now. You felt bad, you wished there was more you could do to help him out, but as it were all you could really do is be there if he wanted to lean his weight on your arm or complain about his day, normally you’d offer a nap with him but that seemed like the last thing he’d want. You’d already left him to get ready for bed, you’d showered and were rummaging around for some pajamas when you find it, you don’t think you’d even worn it before. You wouldn’t say you and Shouta didn’t have a lot of sex, you had a decent amount, but normally fancy lingerie was left to fantasy, it looked fragile and not at all like something that would hold up against Shouta’s semi-destructive bedroom tendencies, you wonder why you bought it in the first place. Though you realize that it may be useful right about now, especially if he was in a being taken care of mood over a, doing the caring mood. You wonder how long ago you even got it, it still fit fine so it can’t be all that old. You peek out the bedroom door to make sure he’s still sitting, unsuspecting at the table in the kitchen, his back to you. When it all checked out you made your way over, sliding your arms around his neck. “Shou.” You rest your cheek against his temple, “it’s so late.” “I know.” Is his deadpan reply. “Do you need the time?” He points to the bottom right of his screen, a small digital clock displaying the hour. You huff at that, you knew he knows that’s not what you mean. “Come to bed with me.” You rub his chest over the ribbed fabric of his shirt, “please?” “In a minute.” “Shouta..please..” You whine at him and duck down to kiss his jaw, he reaches behind himself to hold onto you, he finds your shoulder, by the crook of your neck, expecting to feel the fabric of a t shirt or a tank top strap, but there’s nothing, just skin, he slides his hand over your shoulder, in search of something. His other arm reaches around too, lower, to your legs, thighs, and hips. “Are you naked?” He asks incredulously. “Maybe,” His hand finds one strap around your thigh as you continue, “or better.” He pulls away and stands, facing you, you’re still bent over resting on the back of his chair. “You-” His eyes latch onto the purple, royal purple, dark, and figure-hugging, leaving nothing to his imagination, purple that he wanted to pull away with his teeth, leaving marks on your skin behind in its place. “Where’d you get that-” “Why’s it matter?” You laugh, pulling him closer by his shoulder, “want a matching set?” “Shut up.” He wraps his arms around you despite his words. “Ready to call it a night now?” Your own arms come around his neck and he sighs. “You’re such a brat.” “You were the one being mean, if you work like this too much I’ll worry you don’t love me anymore, you know?” The trek from the kitchen to your bedroom is mostly lost in your memory. You aren’t entirely sure why you considered the possibility that Shouta would want to lay back and let you take care of him, as soon as he touched you back in the kitchen you realized all he’d really want to do was blow off steam. But you were fine with that too.

That in mind...he can be utterly cruel when it suits him.

“Are you still worried I don’t love you anymore?” His voice is low and gruff beside your ear, his lips and stubble scraping down your jaw to your neck. If you’d had plans to get on your knees for him he nixed them before you could even get started in favor of getting you where he had you now, back to his chest three fingers inside you at a grueling pace, pushing and curling and rubbing until your eyes were watering and you were arching against him, trying to get enough leverage to close yourself off. “Keep your legs open.” His other hand is at your collar bone, keeping you pressed against him, “come on, or I’ll tie you up how I want you.” You grip his arm at that you can feel him grin into your skin. “You’re gonna rip it-” You turn into him, chest stuttering, he hadn’t gone to the trouble of removing the lingerie, just pushing and twisting it out of the way of his hands. “I’ll buy you a new set if I do.” He’s teeth close around your neck, “don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about anything.” You dig your nails into his arm unsure of what number orgasm this was, honestly after 2 you felt like they just melded together anyways, it’s not like he let up nearly long enough to let you recover. “Are your eyes watering?” He mutters it into your jaw, “aren’t you cute? Is it too much?” You’re just shaking your head, keening and arching into his touch, chest heaving with helpless breaths. “No?” His voice is thick with faux sympathy, “are you gonna cry? It hurts a little to be so close, doesn’t it? Can’t take it? You’re right there aren’t you? Why can’t you cum?” He doesn’t mind the scratching, and it’s a good thing, cause if he did..he’d be an unhappy man after this all let up. “You didn’t say-” You barely get the breath in your lungs to push the words out. He’s grinning though, it’s the answer he wanted, exactly how he wanted it, breathless and needy. “You want me to say you can?” His other hand rubs your stomach comfortingly, a stark and unfair contrast to the pace of his second hand. “Is that what you want? Will you cry if I don’t?” “I’ll cry if you do too-” “I’m willing to test that, come on. Cum now.” It happens like clockwork, with Shouta it always was. Stuttering thighs, your stomach taking in shaky uneven breaths. Once your peak is there and gone both hands are softer, slower, rubbing long strokes against your sex then your stomach and chest. “That was good.” He’s murmuring it into the soft skin behind your ear, “that was so good. You’re so sweet.” His hand’s rubbing small circles over your belly, his thumb brushing over your navel. “Is that all you can do tonight?” “No,” You shake your head vehemently, “no I want you too-” He hums affectionately into your skin at that. “You are sweet tonight.” He squeezes you a little, it’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but you feel it. “Okay then, if this is what you want then I won’t feel bad. Lay on your chest.”

Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King: Despite how he looked Kan really wasn’t very brutish at all. But when he got like this sometimes his own strength evaded him. It made his emotions obvious, when he got too stressed even a fountain pen was liable to snap in his fist. He’d worked through all the wooden pencils in your apartment, they’d been halved and discarded in rapid succession, he was currently working through all the mechanical pencils. You hoped this all got sorted before the fountain pens, that was a mess you’d rather avoid. He was usually good at dealing with stress, long runs, combat trainings, things in that vein were usually enough to relive him of a bad couple of days. But if the discontent extended past that normally he liked talking with you, when he was stressed, upset or exhausted he liked having you hauled up in his lap, squeezing him, combing your fingers through his hair and babying him into perking up a bit. But when it got past even that stage was when you had to worry about fountain pens. He’d brush you off, just a grunt or nod as a reply as he slunk back into his seat. You tired your signature knuckle kisses to get him to warm up to you, but all you’d gotten out of him was a huff of breath. He didn’t pull his hand away from you though, until his phone started to ring, and by the time he finished his conversation and hung up he didn’t look keen on offering it to you again. “Sek.” You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow and he nods. “You should come to bed. It’s late and you don’t feel good.” “I feel fine.” He shakes your hold on his arm, “you go ahead. It is late, there’s no need for you to be up now.” Normally he’d kiss your head with a phrase like that, but all he did was break the pencil in his right hand. You sigh, “alright. Well wake me up if anything okay? If I can help at all I want to.” “I know. Thanks.” You kiss his temple as you stand up, “Don’t be too late.” He just nods at that and you close the door behind you as you leave. It’s there in your closet front and center when you open it up. You were planning on using it for his birthday...but now..well maybe it’d be enough to rescue him yet? You only got it a few days ago, you hadn’t even tried it on yet. You look between it and your reflection before settling on an idea. You stand before the closed door, separating you and Sekijiro, you’re just a little nervous, if he brushed you off dressed like this you’d be sort of crushed, but he got such tunnel vision sometimes it was a possibility in your head. But you were almost 100% there now, so there wasn’t any use in turning back. “Sekijirio.” You open the door and try to seem less anxious. “Mhm?” He doesn’t turn to look at you. You approach him without responding. “Sekijiro.” You say it harder this time and he nods more obviously, still spinning a barely together pencil in his fingers. “Yeah,what’s wrong?” You’re standing beside him and he still doesn’t look at you. “I though you were going to bed?” He says still without looking at you. “I was.” You agree. “So why didn’t you?” “I got lonely.” You put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to get his gaze on you, though you’re ineffective. “I’m really busy.” “Sekijiro.” You spin his chair. “Baby what gives, I-” He stops, maybe chokes on something. “You’re being such a brute.” You take his hands and slide them up your stomach as you drop into his lap. He hears you but all he can think about is red, lacy and showy fabric highlighting the best places, like a guide for all the places his wants to put his hands, the band around your thigh squeezing, making you look even fuller and more supple in his lap. “What happened to my big sweet man Seki?” His mouth feels dry, your holding the sides of his neck, drawing him into a kiss, and clearly encouraging him to just put his hands all over you. It was like he was having some embarrassing high school fantasy, like someone dug around his brain and picked out his most perfect fantasy and laid it out like a trap for him. “I say that..but it’s so sexy when you get all worked up..” His stomach swarms at that as your eyes cast to the abandoned pile of broken writing utensils. You’re practically whining into his lips, “ and I know I shouldn’t distract you, you said you were busy, I’m sorry I’m so needy-” “I’m not busy at all.” He barely lets you finish, “this is nothing. Don’t be sorry. I can do it tomorrow.” He was sure his class would understand if he..waited an extra day or two to return the exams.. “Just keep working.” Your hands are sliding into his shirt, “I’ll take care of you.”

He could not keep working. It was unfair of you to hold him to that standard, when you were so good at this, when you looked so good on your knees between his legs, taking him to the back of your throat, when your hands felt like that braced on his thighs. No sane person could keep working. Not when your hair was begging to have his hands in it, or when you clearly needed to be guided up and down his length by the nape of your neck. He only had two hands. And when your’s started wandering, up his abdomen, around to his waist, begging him to toss his shirt somewhere else..the work can wait, for your sake. He doesn’t mean to pull so hard, but the moan that flutters past your lips when he does indicates it may not be the worst mistake he’s ever made. He pulls you off his length and you let him go with a pop, a thin strand of something obscene connected your lips to the head of his cock, the sight of it alone was enough to make him buck his hips up into nothing. “Let’s just go to bed.” He’s guiding you to stand, “I’m done here. Let’s just go bed.” He can’t tell if the ditzy stumble and blown out pupils are just part of the act or if blowing him really does shut your brain off a little. “if you want-” Your voice jumps as he swipes you up via the back of your thighs, once your settle though you take the short walk to your bedroom as an opportunity to get your lips on him again, his shoulders, his chest, just around the neckline of his hero costume, if it even tore a little one stood the chance of sticking out. He loses his pants on the way. He just tosses you on the bed once you’re close enough, before you can protest or complain he’s kissing you quiet, then trailing his mouth down your neck and shoulders, to your chest and stomach and legs, kissing and biting and fingering, enjoying the feeling of your fingers twirling and tugging his hair, and the way you’re spreading your legs to allow him closer. He enjoys it until he’s hooking your legs over his shoulders and lining himself up, your hands brace his hips as he presses forward. If anyone asked him this was the best of both worlds, he got the physical work out plus he got you cooing in his ear? He wasn’t really sure what he was stressed about in the first place. “Fuck-” You’re gasping it out, pressing his face into your neck, “you’re amazing-” Even subtle praise makes his stomach jump, and you’re just babbling it out thoughtlessly at this point, he doesn’t blame himself for not lasting much longer after you start. His weight drops onto your chest after you finish and you heave, “jeeze Sek-” “Sorry.” He presses his face into your shoulder, “sorry.” But he doesn’t move. The way you wrap your arms around his back say you don’t want him to. “That was really good.” He’s still huffing into your skin and you hum, dragging a hand up his back. “I’ll help you grade that stuff tomorrow.” You twirl the hairs at the base of his neck around your fingertips. He groans thankfully. “I’m sorry I was being mean.” He rolls over and traps you against his chest, “you’re the best.”

Hizashi Yamada/ Present Mic Hyperactive was an understatement, manic was an intense downplay of the current state of your boyfriend. And he was doing everything but the things that needed to get done. “Hizashi-” “I can't now I need to do-” (insert thing that doesn’t need to be done at all). He had plenty of reports to fill out, from what you heard it was a busy week for patrols in the area, plus his usual grading and any work for the show. But instead of doing that he was reorganizing a record shelf. “Hizashi I-” “You don’t understand how badly I need to organize these alphabetically by title.” He doesn’t let you get a word in. “Clearly I don’t at all. Can I help at all?” You sit on the ground behind him. “No I don’t think so.” “Alright.” You concede, “I’m gonna call it a night.” You sigh, “call if you need me.” “Aye aye.” He’s scrutinizing two records as you leave him. You just needed to get him to focus on something, then he’d be fine. But what could you get him to focus on...something starts to bubble up, it might just work too..if you could get his feet on the ground in anyway at all you were sure it’d stick. It doesn’t take you long to find the box, you’d bought it for a special occasion, though with Hizashi you normally didn’t get much in the ways of planning and preparation, when valentines, your birthday, his birthday, an anniversary etc.. rolled around he was jumping your bones the moment you rolled over in the morning. You don’t think he’s ever even seen this one on you. You don’t take long to get changed, you’re inspecting yourself in the mirror when your bedroom door opens. “Babe I know you said you were going to bed but I hope you aren’t asleep because while I was cleaning out that box that I use to prop up some vinyl sleeves I found these hilarious pictures from high school of you and Nem-” He drops the pictures. “Oh.” You turn to him, “well I wanted to give you a surprise.” “You did-” He chokes it out, red flush creeping down his neck, “why are you wearing that-” “Because.” You go over to him and take his wrists, pulling him further into your bedroom, he just stumbles along with your pull. “You need to calm down Zashi baby.” “This does not make me feel calm-” It’s strangled, if he got any redder you were sure you’d see steam coming out of his ears. “You need to get all your energy out.” You press him down until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You roll your hips against him, and drag your lips down his jaw, one hand braced on his shoulder and the other against his chest, but you can still feel his attention waining. “Zashi.” You drop all your weight into his lap and it pulls his eyes from your dresser back to you. “Focus on me.” You guide his hands up your waist and all the fluster that had been lost as his thoughts wandered away from you returned. You realize the better thing to do is stand up and let him have things his way. “You can look or touch however you want.” You pull his hands down your hips. “So just blow off all that extra steam okay? Whatever you want, just tell me.” He looks mildly like he’s about to pass out. His hands go where you expect, your hips, around to cup your ass and his lips flutter around your stomach and waist. You elect to just sigh good naturedly and curl your fingers in his hair to keep him with you. “Can you turn around?” “Hizashi.” You frown, “don’t be distasteful.” “You said whatever I wanted-” You suppose you cant argue that so you turn around and try not to let out an embarrassing squeak or squeal when 100% of his attention is directed at your ass, one arm circling around you to hold you in place. Various articles of clothing are lost or rearranged to accommodate the touching and kissing. He manages to pull you into bed with him, still keeping your legs on either side of his head as he lays down. His arms wrap around your thighs fingers and palms running slow strokes over your sex as his teeth scrape the surrounding skin, tongue fluttering against your hole occasionally. You press against his chest for leverage and he encourages you to rock your hips against him. You eventually go for his cock, as he starts to work you up too much, getting you too close. You thumb at the head before leaning down and taking him past your lips. He seems contented with that for a while until he’s laying you out on your chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pushing into you. He doesn’t stay pressed to you for too long before he’s pulling back to watch your whole body react to him. It held his attention exceedingly well. “Zashi fuck-” To say that the way you reached back and fumbled for his hand where it held the bend of your hips heightened the experience would be an understatement. “Fuck you’re really sexy-” He presses his fingers into your skin harder, “god you’re so fucking hot,” he groans watching your back shift to accommodate the way your hand searches for some purchase. Instead though he’s pushing it away and using his grip on you to turn you to your back, he pulls your legs around his waist and you follow his pull with no protest. “Fucking god,” He grunts, bottoming out as if he hadn’t pulled out in the first place, “shit, look at you.” “Zashi-” Your chest flutters with it, he can feel it under his hands. “Say my name like that again.” He mutters it, maybe more to himself, he’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist and aligning it over his shoulder. He seriously had way too much energy, you could barely keep up you felt so dizzy. “Zashi!” You keen at the deeper angle and he groans. “God you sound almost as good as you look.” He presses his forehead into your shoulder, “I’m gonna fucking cum babe-” The way you were gripping him like you’d float away if you didn’t was already more than enough for him, but the way you’re nodding, eyes squeezed shut as you gasp it out at him, “me too!” If that didn’t do the trick then nothing would. He’s against your chest, heaving. “Feel better?” You ask pulling a long strand of hair between your fingers. He hums and presses his face into your neck. “Yeah I do..” “It’s still pretty early.” You curl your arms around his back and drag your fingers over the shifting muscles below. He nods at that and takes a deep breath of you. “So..” You prompt him. “I could help you work out what you need to get done tomorrow?” “We could go again?” You speak in unison. “Again!?” You flush, “Zash you have way too much energy!”

Bonus Aizawa ending hehe: “Are you sure you’re okay?” He’s looking at you where you lay below him the next morning, he’d reached over you to click off his alarm when he caught sight of you, he’d really done a number on you. Red in all the places he’d grabbed or smacked, shapeless hickeys outlining where the lingerie had been the night before, the map on your skin the only thing left of the garment as far as you were concerned. “I’m fine.” You wave, “I’ve gotta get up soon though, I’ll be late.” You pin some of his stray hairs back, “what really matters is how are you feeling? Did I help at all? I was worried I’d only make it worse-” “I feel much better.” He leans down to bridge the gap between your lips, “I shouldn’t get so stand offish. I’m sorry. I hope you don’t really think I don’t love you.” “Of course I don’t.” You laugh, sitting up, “I’m glad you feel better now. It’s okay to need space Shouta.” You squeeze his face in your hands, “I love you and I know that you love me. I’m always here for you, even when you need space okay?” He hears your words and appreciates them, but his attention is taken by the state of your thighs, which was 1000x worse than that of your chest and stomach. “Are you sure I didn’t do too much? You can be honest with me. I know I was in a really bad mood.” He asks pushing the blanket to reveal more reddend skin. “Positive. Now you should get a few more z’s Shou.” You stretch out, “I’ve got a meeting.” As soon as your feet hit the floor your legs protest the weight of your body with everything they have. “Are you sure you’re sure?” Shouta can see your hickey covered thighs trembling as you walk around the bed to your closet, the way you hold the door knob like a life line makes it obvious. The backs of your thighs are still stained red and tensed taught to carry your weight. “Yeah I just...need to stretch is all..” “Uh-huh. Stretch.” Shouta’s just laughing at you.

#aizawa shouta x reader #gang orca x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #vlad king x reader #present mic x reader #kugo sakamata x reader #kan sekijiro x reader #bnha x reader #bnha request #aizawa shouta smut #bnha smut #smut

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kyles-afro · 2 years ago

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this prompt sounded fun hehe

i need a good title tho 😫

any other thoughts- pls lmk before i post!!

full text under cut

Tweek HATES him!!

Tweek is more than enough for his alpha. He’s been feeling so betrayed that he’s been acting up, knocking things off counters, refusing to eat his broccoli, things he hasn't done in a long time now.

If Craig was so bored he could have just started learning how to knit. Tweek hates Kyle so much. Sooo much. Even though he knows that alphas as big and virile as Craig need more than one pet. Even though he knows Craig doesn’t like it when he hisses or raises his lip at Kyle. But none of that means he has to like or even be nice to the stupid new boy. He will NEVER, never EVER forgive Kyle for stealing his alpha away from him.

Craig always voices his displeasure when the two fight, but Tweek’s pretty sure he actually thinks it's funny. Because if he really wanted to, he could make the two behave. Or maybe he’s just stepping back and trying to let them play out their differences on their own. Too bad that will never happen. Has he mentioned how much he hates Kyle?

He always tries to act like he’s above acknowledging Tweek’s antics, ‘cause he’s sooooo much better than he is, but Tweek sees the way his own lip curls whenever Tweek does something that finally manages to get under his skin. Kyle is not the angel Craig thinks he is. Tweek sees all of it. Alllllll of it. So why is it that Craig can’t also see it when Kyle smirks and sticks out his tongue, like he's a fucking child? It’s not like his short temper is some big secret either. Alpha definitely has to be deliberately ignoring Kyle piss Tweek off. No other explanation for not immediately addressing Kyle’s terrible naughty behavior whenever he does something stupid like exaggerate his stupid little moans or wiggle his stupid little ass right in front of Tweek’s face.

Alpha must be punishing Tweek for something. Even though he said he was sorry for pushing his favorite succulent off the windowsill. Tweek may be unhappy with the current state of things but even he can see that that might have been a bit too much. This is why Tweek’s been trying his extra hardest to make him happy so he can be forgiven and Kyle can go back to the shelter where he belongs.

His alpha. HIS!

Because of this mess Tweek now has to have sex when Kyle’s sleeping or out. Right now he’s in their playroom, on his knees pleasuring Craig, feeling smug as hell but then remembering he’s supposed to be apologetic. He bats his eyes at the attention as he sucks around him and Alpha lets out a pained gasp. Encouraged, he swallows deeper and deeper, trying to see what other sounds he can pull out of him. He’d be lying if he said some part of this wasn’t due to his little rivalry. Kyle can barely make Craig’s tea the right temperature. How does he think he’ll ever get Alpha to sound like this? Tweek can feel himself getting wetter and wetter as his alpha pants, so sexy, and rolls his hips and fucks his mouth slowly. He swirls his tongue around the head, licking softly, trying to show with his eyes how sorry he is about Alpha’s succulent. It was just the pot that broke, the plant is fine…Tweek’s really sorry, he won’t do it again, so can Kyle please go home now? His eyes flutter shut as he feels Craig hit the back of his throat. Oh fuck yes, thank you, that feels so good…

He snaps out of his daze when he hears the door open. He whips to glare at him, but Kyle actually continues to walk in.

Tweek pulls off and hisses. Who the fuck does this entitled hussy think he is? Alpha is his! TWEEK’S!

Craig swats his head, lightly.

“Tweek, be nice,” he warns. “You can come in, Kyle, as long as you two don’t fight.”

Even with Tweek’s best scary lip curl Kyle still comes in and sits down next to him. He sticks his tongue out, god he is such a fucking CHILD, and flashes him a quick finger.

Tweek feels his hair raise. That little fucker! He totally just flipped him off! Oh god, he’s been here way too long. Alpha is already rubbing off on him. It’s time to go Kyle, time to go, please-

With the patience of a thousand nuns Tweek turns and ignores him and just tries his best to focus on satisfying his alpha. Channels his anger, uses it to force himself down, making himself gag, using the resulting saliva to thoroughly and sloppily work Craig back to the edge. His eyes close and his brow furrows with determination.

The unspoken agreement between them hangs heavily in the air. Whoever makes Alpha come first will get his cock.

Tweek moans when he starts to feel his big heavy balls draw up, can tell he’s close when suddenly, Kyle yanks at his hair and pulls him off. Ow! What the fuck?! He takes a deep breath and wipes his mouth, getting ready to slap some sense into Kyle, but the stupid asshole literally has the GALL to push him away.

“Get off already, you incompetent troglodyte. This is how you do it,” he scoffs, sinking down. He didn’t say that out loud, not really, but Tweek knows what he’s saying in his head.

Kyle takes over, starts bobbing, moaning like a cheap pornstar, using Tweek’s hard work and spit to easily get the whole thing down his throat. Tweek is so angry. He can’t decide whether to keep glaring at Kyle’s stupid face or look at Alpha's handsome one, flushed bright red, eyes closed and mouth open in pleasure.

Tweek watches Kyle’s pathetic performance, mentally critiquing the whole time. Dumb whore really thinks he’s going to win. Doesn’t he know that Tweek has been making Alpha come for years now, way before Kyle showed up? They don’t need him here.

But when he notices Alpha’s moans get higher and his hips start to twitch, he has to stop and intervene. He could do so nicely, but he thinks it’s only fair to pull Kyle’s hair too. Off, you dumb dog! He raises his lip, a little more smug when Kyle doesn’t fight him. See, stupid slut can’t satisfy Alpha’s big cock like he can.

He presses his lips to the head and sucks messily, making sure to hold eye contact with Alpha as he cleans Kyle’s nasty gross spit off his perfect cock. When he closes his eyes and throws his head back, Tweek quickly looks at Kyle, eyes narrowing devilishly as he moans exaggeratedly around Alpha’s cock and gives Kyle the finger.

Just for a second. He’s not petty like Kyle is.

He loses himself in his alpha’s wonderful taste, big beautiful cock filling his mouth and throat so nicely, eyes starting to fall closed, but they fly open when he reaches down for Alpha’s balls and another hand hits his.

It’s Kyle. “Didn't you learn how to share in elementary school?” he snaps. “Stop being such a fucking pig!” He starts stroking the base, squeezes the beginnings of Alpha’s knot, pulling it towards him and Tweek is forced to move up Alpha’s shaft to make room.

That fucking bitch! Tweek has never felt more like slapping someone in his life. Instead he just forces himself to ignore Kyle’s boorishness and concentrate on making Alpha come.

He screws his eyes shut and focuses his attention on the tip, sucking and licking at exactly the right parameters that’ll make Craig’s legs shake and his moans get breathy and high-pitched. Then there’s big strong hands gripping his hair and yanking him off his cock.

He settles back on his knees, breathless, tongue outstretched so Alpha can cover it with his seed. The first spurt covers him forehead to cheek and he has to struggle not to moan and keep his mouth open so he can taste as much of him as possible.

The stupid fucker Kyle is still right there next to him though. He pushes him slightly out of the way and Alpha’s cum ends up painting both their faces. Tweek very maturely chooses to ignore this disrespect. He won anyways, so Kyle can just go kick rocks and fuck himself in his room. Tweek gets to play with his alpha’s big yummy cock some more.

“EXCUSE me! That wasn’t you, you blind retard! It was me! Now get out of here!” Kyle bitches.

Excuse him? Excuse him? Did Kyle forget who was the one actually working on Alpha's cock when he came? All the cheap slut did was rub his knot a little. Everyone and their mother would agree that it was Tweek’s talented mouth, hard work and skill that made Alpha come, not some stupid little ginger whore’s pitiful excuse for a handjob. Tweek snarls again.

If Kyle thinks he’s the one going to get fucked, he’s so out of his mind Tweek could actually feel worried for him. Maybe Craig should take him to the hospital to get checked out. If they happen to find an inoperable brain tumor and recommend euthanasia, oh well.

Kyle’s not deterred. He just raises his lip back, yanking Craig’s still hard cock towards him possessively. His other hand heads downward and plunges two fingers inside, trying to open himself up as fast as possible.

That fucking cunt!! Two can play at that game. Tweek grabs Alpha’s cock too, yanks it toward him and starts stroking the tip as he begins to stretch himself as well.

Craig groans. He doesn’t even bother trying to tell them not to fight.

#creek #creekyle #south park fanfiction #can u tell im not much an abo person lol #i tried tho

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potionsclasss · 4 years ago

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CAN YOU BELIEVE I WROTE A FANFIC me neither ok so please let me know and reblog/like if you enjoy this! If you want more content, or a part two lmk. Feedback criticism etc. are always welcome too! Enjoy!!!

Summary: The tension between you and Draco has been palpable, and you wonder if the night of the moonlit ball will bring it out of the shadows ;)

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Warnings: Smut, possessive Draco, slight

Daddy kink.

Word Count: 2.9k

Star Gazing

The sky was like an abstract watercolor on the night of the Yule ball. It was a smattering of deep purple and pink smeared across the horizon, dotted with glittering stars. It reminded you of the glass of wine you knew you’d be having in some grimy dorm room at an after party, messy and warm in the pit of your stomach. Stepping out of the deep green accented dorm to get some air, you could make out the twins of Gemini up above. They reflected off your cold metal rings as you looked up, fingers curling around your champagne flute glass. Your heels clicked on the pavement as you withdrew from the railing and walked back inside, forest green dress trailing airily behind you. It wasn’t even cold out, but you felt a sudden shiver up your spine at one thought not even the stars could distract you from- him. Surely he would be at the ball. He seemed to be appearing more and more lately, it was almost a dance the two of you did.

First, it was the obscenely long held eye contact at dinner. His icy grey eyes stared into your honey brown ones with an emotion you couldn’t quite gauge. Even with Pansy giddily whispering in his ear, he kept his eyes trained on you, slowly pulling the vanilla ice cream clad spoon from his pink lips until you could feel the tiniest bit of blood rush into your cheeks. You would always look away first, but that didn’t stop the sensation of his stare lingering on you even as you stood up to leave with Daphne.

Then, it was him showing up in your potions class. You would watch his pale ring clad hands stir his Pepperup Potion. They moved in soft, confident, meticulous circles. The slytherin crest seemed even more prominent on his broad chest and your Amortentia potion turned sour as you imagined the milky white skin underneath. When he finally worked up the courage to ask you a question about the proper way to cut an Alihotsy, you thought you imagined the way his eyes glanced down to your pink puffy lips, if just for a moment, and how he leaned into you just a little closer to smell your sweet vanilla and lilac perfume he so often fantasized about behind closed doors.

In the common room, you always found an excuse to sit just a little too close to him on the couch. His warm minty breath would be near your neck and his thigh would bumped against yours while you and Theo giggled at him during his fights with Crab on which dark spells should actually be banned. He was intoxicating and you were starting to fall... hard. More and more he not only consumed so many of your waking thoughts, but your subconscious ones. You couldn’t shake last nights dream. His shirt was half unbuttoned and his hands were around your neck as he sloppily kissed you roughly and walked you backwards till you hit a wall and-

“You realize we’re going to be late if you don’t snap out of it, don’t you”

You turn your neck over your shoulder at the sound of a collected deep voice to see Blaise hanging onto the doorframe. He does look beautiful, positioned looming in the doorway. A half smile quirked on his face tells you he’s been watching you wonder around absentmindedly.

“Fresh air calms me down.” You admitted earnestly meeting his dark chocolate eyes. He strode forward and shut the outside door that you had left open during your pondering, and met you in the middle of the room, taking your arm delicately in his. “What’s there to be nervous about?” You could tell he was teasing you a little, in a sweet boyish way. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes to meet his gaze. Blaise was handsome and quiet, and you were relieved he’d asked you to go to the Ball - as friends. But you certainly weren’t about to tell him the root of your anxiety was surrounding seeing his best friend tonight.

“Oh shut up, come on let’s get going.” you giggled, watching his full lips curl upward at your response.

“You ready to see me make a fool of myself?” Blaise teased. You giggled drunkenly nodding, leaning on his broad shoulders for support. His suit was long gone leaving only a white undershirt stained with beer and sweat. You would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy drunk dancing and joking with Blaise at an after party, his intoxicating smell of green apple and whiskey intermingling with yours, but he wasn’t Draco and he never would be. Overwhelmed by the energy of the room and your date and the red wine in your brain, you stumbled backwards. “I need some air” you slurred. “Again??” He jeered, fingers reaching for the flask in his pocket. You stuck your tongue out playfully and used the wall as your guide to the hallway.

As you stepped into the crisp night air, goosebumps rose on your exposed legs thanks to the short black party dress you adorned. Looking up at the sky, you noticed Gemini was now partly covered by an airy grey cloud passing by in the violet streaked night sky.

“My, my, my Y/N, you know your missing an entire party inside, right?” a voice called out, not exactly cutting sharply through the quiet of the night, save for the distant sounds of partygoers, but more like gliding through the air in his lilting tone. You looked to your right to see pale hair glistening in the silver moonlight that could only belong to one person. “There you are Draco, I practically sent out a search party looking for you. Where have you been all night?“ You knew Draco didn’t like parties if he wasn’t drunk enough, just like you. He looked upwards at the stars, smirking just a little as you neared him. “You know, I’m hardly Yule ball material.” He pulled out a cigarette and offered one to you. You shook your head and watched as the lighter shadowed his lips and illuminated his hollow cheekbones, hanging from his pursed mouth. He looked over at you, drinking you in and admiring your hugging black dress. He took note of everything. From how it hugged your luscious chest to how it dipped below your defined collar bones that were practically begging for love bites. Your tongue swiped across your bottom lip and Draco could feel himself get dizzy. “Well.. this isn’t the Yule ball anymore is it. This is the after party.” You smirked, taking the cigarette from his mouth to place into yours for a moment. He watched intently as your cheeks hollowed out for a puff and the exhale of smoke reflected off your cherry lipgloss “Come on.” You said firmly, outstretching a hand for his. He looked down for a moment before ignoring your hand and taking you by the waist back inside. His hand was gripping you heavenly and you could feel the space he was touching practically catch fire as he stubbed out his cigarette on the railing before flicking it off to the side.

"Well.. if it isn’t the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid my eyes on" Blaise joked as you returned with your partner. Rolling your eyes at his flattery, you felt Draco’s grip tighten significantly on your waist, moving down almost instinctively to rest on your hip.

“Blaise” Draco said, coldly acknowledging his friend and classmate. Draco leaned down to whisper on your ear, lips centimeters from you and his vodka laden breath running down your spine "I’m gunna get us something more to drink, you wait right here, yeah?" You nodded obediently and watched him walk away, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, still warm and giddy from the feeling of his hand running down your torso. Suddenly, you felt like his presence was making it hard to stand. You couldn’t be sure if it was all the wine or his breath or imagining those cold rings on your thigh but you instantly felt dizzy and stumbled backwards. “Whoa whoa whoa I got you.” You felt an unfamiliar pair of hands catch you, looking up to see Blaise. “Thanks..” you said as a breathy laugh escaped you absently mindedly, not sure if it was the alcohol or Draco that was making you this way. You could feel Blaises hands snake around your lower back to steady you and you found yourself pressed against his tall strong body, head in the crook of his neck while you caught your breath.

Draco could feel himself seethe with frustration, the sight of you in the arms of his best friend. How dare he touch you as Draco had dreamed of so many nights. He hated the sight. The thought of a man not worthy of a witch like you touching you in ways only he should made him feel an anger he had never experienced. When you rested your head on his chest he pushed past the other part goers instinctively.

Suddenly, He was behind you, holding two glasses of beer in one hand and your wrist in the other. You quickly and embarrassedly released your grip on Blaise. He seemed to think nothing of it, falling quickly into another drunken conversation with a pretty Hufflepuff.

You looked up at Draco, trying to ignore the way your heart thudded in your chest. You’re supposed to be just friends, but friends don’t look at each other with the anger that seeps from Draco right now. Friends don’t make each other feel the things the two of you are feeling right now. His body is tense as he manhandles you outside, and you follow him back to the starlit porch to the best of your inebriated ability. When he knows the two of you are alone, he looks down, internalizing his emotions but letting them spill out of his piercing eyes as he glares at you. “Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands to yourself?” He asks, most of the playfulness gone from his voice. “Draco!?” You exclaim, confused as how your actions were at all inappropriate. “I was stumbling around and dizzy, Blaise was just there to catch my fall.” Draco let out a quiet breath, shifting ever so slightly so he was standing just centimeters from you, fingers brushing a curl behind your ear. You could feel blood rush into your cheeks and eardrums, and the pounding was so loud you were unsure if you even heard his next words right, as he whispered brushing your bottom lip with his thumb;

“I’m the only man who can touch you like that.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the weight of his stare on you. He wasn’t quick and he didn’t rush it. You felt one strong hand on your hip and the other gently stroking your cheek as your noses brushed and he leaned in to close the last possible gap between the two of you.

It was far beyond what he’d ever imagined. It was better and softer and much more beautiful. It lit a fire in his skin just by the touch of your soft cherry lips that no one else would be able to. Just by kissing you, he felt more alive and drunk and dizzy than he ever had in his life. You pulled away breathlessly, a blush on your cheeks and pressure between your legs. A string of far off laughter pulled you out of the intimate moment. Your eyes darted around, checking for onlookers, or worse; Professor Snape. Draco’s gaze remained unwaveringly on you. “Draco, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this..here” your voice was barely above a whisper. “Doing what ...darling?” He responded with a half smirk quirked on his lips, leaning in to bite your earlobe gently. “Let’s go then” he mumbled, this time outstretching his hand to meet yours, guiding you through the dark, under the stars of Gemini, through the tumbling hallways and switching stars of Hogwarts, down to a chilly and dark room which he whispered spells and tongues to enter.

“Come here baby” he cooed, as soon as the door was locked behind you. Walking backwards with his motions you felt your back being pressed up against a cold wall as his lips met yours once again, this time in privacy. Stars exploded behind your eyelids as you felt yourself moan into the kiss, satisfied and sloppy and needing more. The feeling of his lips and little scratch of his stubble felt heavenly across your skin. The pendant of his cold silver necklace pressed against your chest and juxtaposed the heat that was radiating through you. His hands found your hips, tugging at the hem of your slutty black dress that had been making him struggle to think all night. You gripped his silvery white hair as he worked on your neck, moaning and urgently needing more. Every movement he made was filled with lust and longing and desperation. He paused before he did anything that could possibly make you regret tonight. In a low and earnest tone he spoke breathlessly against your neck. “Tell me to stop” his fingers were already inching up your dress and his knee knocking ur legs apart to spread them a little. He fought the animalistic urge to rip it off you and ravish you against the wall, knowing you’d make the prettiest noises for him, all alone in the confines of his room. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt, not possibly moving fast enough for either of you. Just as raggedly you spoke your answer.

“Why in the world would I ever do that, daddy?” Draco melted at your words feeling his pants become impossibly confined against your stomach. He instantly pushed your dress around your hips to reveal a dark green velvet thong he hoped you wore just for him. You tried to be calm but your movement were frantic as you tugged them down around your ankles and whimpered at the sight of him getting on his knees, propping one of your legs around his shoulder. You steadied yourself on the wall hardly able to keep yourself up. As slowly as he could manage, his tongue worked over your folds, sucking and licking as it also paid special attention to your clit giving it immeasurably pleasurable kitten kicks every few seconds. As each moment passed by you tangled your fingers deeper in his hair and his name escaped your lips louder and louder. The noises in the room were delightful to Draco’s ears. You threw your head back at the pleasure of his fingers being added and working and curling inside you, eyes shut, lips parted in a lustful haze. You felt an orgasm quickly building and Draco stopped before you got too close. Whimpering at the lack of contact he smirked as he stood up to meet your mouth once again. “So needy,” he couldn’t help but remark against you, pushing his pants and boxers down quickly. His heart continued to pound greedily, and he practically threw you into the bed in one swift strong motion. As he looked down at you, pinning you onto his covers you noted much of the playfulness was gone from his eyes and replaced with an intense lust that almost scared you. He was obsessed with you.

You spread your legs and batted your eyelashes like you knew drove him crazy and watched as he pulled out his length and sheathed it inside your tight pussy. The sound of his gruff and euphoric moan mixed with your needy whimpers was almost too much for Draco to handle. He picked up the pace, from agonizingly slow to ruthlessly fast. So many nights he had dreamed about fucking you like this. Ravishing you like you were his and only his, as you should be. His head dropped to the crook of your neck as your back arched in both pain and pleasure. How perfectly, wonderfully, wholly he fit inside you. His eyes remained trained on your beautiful face, listening to the angelic noises that fell from you lips. “That’s Daddy’s good girl. Don’t hold back pretty girl, make your pretty noises for me baby.” At that your lips fell open and you screamed his name much to his satisfaction. Your walls tightened around his cock as he continued to rail you, and he began seeing stars from being inside of his girl. Draco’s teeth sank into your shoulder as he released into you, his cum heavy and warm and deep.

Your gaze was clouded and lips slightly parted, almost unable to speak or process your surroundings. You watched motionless as Draco breathed a sigh into your chest and kissed your cherry gloss smeared lips with the upmost affection. He stood, padding around the room to collect his clothing that had been fiercely flung around the room. He watched you, breathless and angelic, wrapped up in his white sheets with his bruises and marks so striking against your pale skin trailing down your body. He so desperately hoped you would fall into a deep euphoric sleep right then and there, next to him, enveloped in the scent of your vanilla and jasmine perfume, dreaming of the stars.

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