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vaaaaaiolet · 1 month ago

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Sleep-deprived Leon's upstairs neighbor works late 'cause she's a singer on a deadline, and he's having none of it. He comes up with a wild solution to the problem in a moment of desperation, and he's surprised when you actually go along with it, but anything to get a full night's sleep, right? Then he finds himself wanting a bit more than camaraderie with you in the process.

f/m, romance, fluff, does this count as crack??? popstar reader w/ a twist, ID leon is USELESS w tech + lives under a ROCK, also you manic pixie dream girl a bit too close to the sun but it's ok bc ur cute LOL

word count: 2.6k // read this chapter on ao3

a/n: req fic + belated bday gift for my lovely 🍍 anon!! as usual i got carried away and butchered it. um. NOTHING makes sense just go w the vibes i beg you </3 pt. 2 coming out asap bc this fic will not leave me alone in the best way :)

chapter one

Rule of thumb: don’t bang on the first date.

Leon’s wrapping his pillow around his head like a pair of goddamn Beefs (or is Beets? those tacky, overpriced- oh, forget it) while his upstairs neighbor gives her bed a run for its money on a Friday night, at a blessed 9 PM no less.

Oh yeah. Her.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

R-rated suspicions aside, Leon tries hoping for the best. His new neighbor might just be an interior designer of the nocturnal sort. Sick of his previous rowdy, college kid-infested apartment building, he’d moved into this complex not too long ago thanks to a very politely-worded call to Hunnigan about open listings in quiet, senior citizen-friendly neighborhoods. Call him old, call him boring, but after a long day of running around saving humanity from the newest bioweapon to hit the market, all Leon ever wants to do these days is get a few winks of sleep. He’s pushing 30. Insomnia’s no fountain of youth, people.

Thump, thump-thump-thump.

New Girl upstairs seemed to have the same idea but with far more nefarious intent. She’d moved in at the same time as him, he’s sure – Leon saw a flash of her face a few days ago when she was lugging boxes of stuff into the elevator up to her floor. She’s the only sign of life from the 21st century he’s encountered since the day he came to sign his lease papers. Why?

Because Hunnigan had fulfilled his request to a T. Leon’s new apartment building is long-term care home adjacent.

Full of grandmas and grandpas who got about as loud as their record players, only leaving their homes to fetch the mail – telegrams by the wrinkles on some of them. It was perfect. Leon was positively thrilled when Eunice from Unit 202 very, very slowly, waved hello to him on his moving day.

THUMP-THUMP! THUMP-THUMP!

And then she happened.

Maybe he’s just a grumpy old man right where he belongs, in all his 29-and-a-half glory. But the pounding that girl is giving her bed with some frat boy right now is giving Leon the college dorm experience all over again. It takes him half an hour of tossing and turning in his sheets to throw on an old jacket, beeline to the elevator, punch the neon 3 button, and darken New Girl’s doorstep.

His turn now. A quick knock, knock is enough for Unit 304’s door to open a crack.

“Hey, I’m from downst- oh my God, are you decent?”

And you, standing at the door in a dress that’s more sheer than his disbelief, only tilt your head to go, “Huh?”

“Listen, I know tomorrow’s the weekend but I- shit,” his face burns, “could you keep it down, please? You guys are really loud and it’s late.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You- you and whoever you’re with, could you not do this right now?” Leon croaks.

Your hands flail wildly in dismissal. “Oh no, that was just me jumping on my bed! Helps with my creative process,” you say, smiling weakly. “I didn’t know the floors were that thin, I’m sorry.”

Bullshit. “They are.” Leon grimaces, “And um, it’s fine if you guys are loud, just save it for when everyone’s asleep next time.”

A frown interrupts your smile. “I just said it was me. There’s no one else here, seriously.”

“So what’s with the getup?”

“The-” your eyes drift down to the near see-through of your dress and Leon gestures vaguely, as if you need more explanation to why he’s avoiding eye contact with your chest. “Oh, this?”

He nods.

“Creative process!” you chirp brightly.

“For what, pray tell?”

Curiously, that puts the wind out of your sails. Suddenly you having trouble meeting Leon’s eyes, lashes fluttering as you look up, down, anywhere that’s not his face.

“For school,” you finally make out, fingers wrapping around the edge of your door. “I’m a music major.”

Pianos and prancing on beds don’t exactly mix. He can’t help but squint at you. “And the jumping helps with…?”

“Getting past writer’s block!”

Back to bubbly with the ball in your court, you go so far as to open your door a little further to explain. Leon’s cheeks blaze as he tries his damndest to keep his eyes from drifting south.

“I read online that moving around helps with ideas, and I’m supposed to have a whole album written by the end of the week. I probably shouldn’t have procrastinated…” you trail off with a half-hearted chuckle, “so now I’m throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks, y’know?”

He hums. “You wanna be a singer?”

“Mhm!” Your updone hair bobs with you, reminding him a little of a bobblehead. It’s almost cute enough to make his AMs worthwhile.

“Then you better start singing somewhere else, sweetheart. The walls are just as thin as the floors.”

And Leon immediately turns his ass around to go back to sleep.

In hindsight, it might’ve been a little mean of him to leave like that. But his bed is just so heavenly, and with the sleep deprivation he’s been racking up lately, Leon’s half sure he just dreamed that entire exchange. There’s no way a girl like you in college – in her 20s, give or take – is seriously jumping on her bed on a Friday night for a homework assignment. That too in a dress fit for the club to add to the irony. Are all creatives this weird?

He pinches the bridge of his nose as the elevator descends, pushing aside his last glimpse of the glum expression he left you with in your doorway. So much for first impressions. But hey, you didn’t really make a great one either. He’ll call it even. Maybe get you a gift basket for chivalry’s sake.

He considers all this as he slips back under his blankets, finally, at 9:45 PM.

And then he hears a creeeaaak.

“Please,” Leon groans, jamming his pillow over his ears.

Thump…thump?

Nix the gift basket.

6:00 AM on Saturday finds Leon with his eyes wide open and glazed insomniac red.

His alarm blares as if to say, you actually thought you’d need to get woken up, didn’t you?

It’s a little patronizing. He teaches it a lesson by throwing it off his nightstand.

Sometime between 11 and 12 at night, you’d gotten bored of your bed and taken to something with wheels. An office chair is Leon’s best guess. You’d rolled across your floor all night, and the resulting clatter of plastic grating on hardwood had kept him awake until the sunrise. Hangovers were more pleasant than the night of sleep (or lack thereof) he’d just gotten, and Leon’s no wimp. He’s a man, goddamnit. A decorated government agent!

So he handles the problem at its source. Whips out his flip phone like a man, and makes a very important call.

A disgruntled female voice crackles through at the first ring. “May I remind you that this line’s only for emergencies, Leon?”

“It is! I need you to find me another apartment, Hunnigan, please,” Leon sits up, rubbing his eyes to plead his case to an unimpressed Ingrid Hunnigan. “My upstairs neighbor won’t let me sleep. The floors are thin as hell and she’s been moving around all night. It’s even worse than my last place.”

“Really? An old lady is giving you that hard of a time?”

“She’s college age — a singer — and when she starts singing for her homework all the time, I’m really not going to get any sleep. I’m begging you, Hunnigan. Get me out of here.”

“Strange.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Truly,” Hunnigan deadpans. “You know how hard of a time I had getting you into an apartment building only for people over 55, Leon?”

He winces, holding the phone a little further from his ears just in case.

“How many favors I had to cash in, strings I had to pull, all because you’re hopeless at navigating an apartment listing site, let alone anything on the Internet? Do you realize I had to do that in my personal time because your request would fall under illegal use of federal intelligence resources?”

Leon falters. “I didn’t-”

“So here’s what you’re going to do,” Hunnigan says shortly. “You are going right back to your neighbor and working out a solution like an adult.”

“But I already-”

“You’re solving this on your own, Leon. Figure something out because I know you can delegate. Got it?”

He really doesn’t. He’s only good at that outside of the US.

“Is that clear, Agent Kennedy?” Hunnigan repeats for semantic measure.

“Crystal,” Leon mopes, sapped of all hope when she ends the call with a ‘good luck’, just like back in Spain. A familiar routine.

He’s back in front of Unit 304 by 9:00 AM.

You open your door with a half-chewed yawn, wrapped in a robe and looking deceptively angelic, that is, if it weren’t for the immediate pinch your pretty brows take on when you grace him with a decidedly sour look.

“Up already?” Leon tries.

This time all he gets in response is a quick nod, a mouth parted in distaste.

Forward march, Kennedy.

“You were up past midnight. I heard you, y’know, on your chair. Kinda loud.”

“I’m not annoying you on purpose,” you sigh, tucking your arms into a tight cross over the fluff of your robe. “I just really have to turn my album in on time and I’m having crazy writer’s block. They told me the people here are quiet and easygoing. I haven’t had a single noise complaint so far except for you, did you know that?”

“That’s because everyone in this building either has hearing aids or doesn’t realize they need them yet,” Leon grits. “I don’t even know how you got in here, to be honest.”

“A sparkling letter of recommendation, thank you very much. And you?” You push up on your toes indignantly. “Are you just older than you look? ‘Cause you might need a pair of hearing aids yourself.”

Leon bites back a scoff. “Don’t need ‘em. I can hear you plain as day from below.”

Sirens are starting to blare in his head and it’s like he can feel Hunnigan glaring at him from her HQ in the sky. Aborting mission again isn’t an option. If Leon doesn’t fix things now, he’d be starting bad blood that might outlast the combined remaining lifespans of the building’s tenants. His salary could cover rent that long; his ego, not so much.

You’re about two seconds away from shutting your door in Leon’s face before he interrupts with a save pulled straight from his ass: “I’ll help you write your songs.”

So instead, you squawk, “What?”

He sticks the toe of his shoe in your doorjamb for insurance. Blurts, “I mean it. I’ll help you come up with ideas.”

“How on Earth would you do that?”

Great question. No better time than the present for the both of you to find out.

“You said moving around helps?” Leon repeats for you to confirm with a quizzical nod, “I’ll take you anywhere you want. Anywhere in the city, you name it, I’ve got a motorcycle I’ll get you there on. It’ll be a change of scenery. Just whatever you do, enough with the gymnastics at midnight.”

It’s a desperate lifeline, a creepy one now that he’s had more than two seconds to think about it, but a lifeline nonetheless.

And to his horror, all you do is stare.

The resulting silence feels like crystallizing amber. A clock ticks agonizingly from somewhere in your living room. Tick, tick, shit, he desponds. But thankfully, your laugh bubbles out not a moment too soon, sending a tsunami of relief down his shoulders.

“Gymnastics, really?” you snort, covering your mouth with a well-manicured hand.

“I’m serious.” Leon shoots for a winning smile. “But I have to ask, is working late also part of your creative process?”

Your eyes crinkle maybe, but you shake your head no.

“Then we’ll go whenever you’re free. Show you a few of my favorite spots, see if it speeds up your songwriting. Sound okay, sweetheart?”

“How about now?” you pipe up.

Leon coughs his splutter into something more dignified.

“You said whenever I was free! It’s a Saturday, you’re free,” you point a finger at his chest, “I’m free,” turn it back on yourself, “and I need to finish writing my album by, like, yesterday. This is perfect!” With a miniscule squeal, you disappear back into your apartment.

Leon’s left standing in your entryway wondering when his lifeline became a dynamite detonation cord.

“You haven’t even asked me my name,” he calls out to deaf ears. Cups his hands for effect because he can hear you flinging hangers onto the floor. “Don’t they teach you about stranger danger at school?”

“I’ll find out eventually!” floats back your worrying response.

You’re an efficient dresser, Leon gives you that. A thankfully normal one too at the dress and heels you rush back up to the door with. A large pair of cat-eye sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose makes Leon do a double take at the cloudy sky outside, but then again, maybe it’s another part of your creative process. Beyond his pay grade.

You adjust your sunnies with gusto, grin up at him when he gives you a curious look.

“Well, go on,” you say, pulling out your phone.

Leon blinks at the glowing rectangle.

“Number, name?” You tilt it as if you’re trying to entice a toddler. “I can’t just keep calling you Mr. Noise Complaint.”

“Aw, you’ve been telling your friends about me?” Leon chuckles at last, pulling out his flip phone and handing it to you.

And suddenly it’s your turn to stare at a piece of foreign technology.

You take your sweet time putting in your number. It’s very entertaining, the way the tip of your tongue sticks out the tiniest bit when you make a mistake and the sound of furious keypad backspacing follows right after. Leon’s no better, setting himself on your phone as “LOEN KEENAYD”, and with his pride bordering on hubris, he has no choice but to keep it that way.

“Really small backspace key,” he fibs when you peer at the gibberish in your contacts.

Your lip bite makes for a piss-poor job of hiding how funny it is.

“It’s Leon, by the way. Leon Kennedy. Apartment 204.”

You fix his name in half the time it took him to put it in. He holds his hand out for a shake, timeless enough, and you give it three businesslike pumps.

“I have to grab a spare helmet from my place, I’ll meet you down at the garage,” Leon promises.

You point at him before stepping into the elevator. “Either your idea works or I’ll have to work past midnight to get this album done and then you’ll really owe me, Leon.”

In another life, you could’ve been a CEO. You’ve certainly got the pointer finger for it.

Leon tips his chin in acknowledgment. “Whatever it takes to get back into your good graces, ma’am,” he grins.

That gets a cackle out of you as the elevator doors slide shut.

And he takes the stairs this time, waves good morning to Eunice in 215 on his way to pick up that helmet for you. It must be a good day, Leon thinks, sounding out your name in his phone’s contacts. Eunice even has a post- Great Depression era vinyl playing on her record player. Maybe it’s a sign to not be so glum about his situation. He’s finally fixing it, isn’t he?

So be it. A guy can dream. In Leon’s case, he’s hoping he gets eight hours by Monday.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

divider by @/saradika-graphics <3

#📮 delivery #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil #infinite darkness leon kennedy #id leon #bed chem sabrina carpenter #vaaaaaiolet #ao3 fanfic

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squinch-depraved · 1 month ago

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oh my god i would go FERAL for an extension off of the virgin!schlatt fic. imagine him eating you out for the first time, you’re expecting him to not be that talented at it, i mean hey, he’s never eaten pussy before. but that boy is a QUICK leaner and already remembers where the clit is from when u showed him, he basically eats you like his life depends on it and jesus christ where u not expecting it. and he doesn’t stop after u cum once, no, he had u riding his face and doing round after round.

and of course our like virgin baby cums his pants while he’s eating 😇

THANKYOU BEAUTIFUL

teehee i hope you enjoy (not proofread or beta read by anyone!!)

schlatt just kind of shows up at your apartment one day, not long after you take his virginity

knocks on the door and just stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to answer

and when you do, you're in just a bra and sweatpants, getting ready for a class in an hour

brushing your teeth so you can't do anything but grunt as he pushes past you into your place

"what the fuck?" you manage to ask through a mouthful of toothpaste

he closes the door behind you both and kinda hesitates for a second

"...the plan was to kiss you but i can't really do that, i guess."

you squint at him and walk down the hallway and into your bathroom after gesturing for him to follow you

he does, and when you finish brushing your teeth, you turn to him and flash him a sparkling grin

not two seconds later, he has you pushed up against the door with his tongue down your throat

after a few heated minutes of exploring each other's mouths, you pull away and place your hand on his chest

"what the fuck was that?"

schlatt's face flushes and he looks away

he does not have the right to be embarrassed after just showing up here like that?? wtf

you sigh frustratedly and try to coax it out of him

eventually he just lets it all out

"i can't stop thinking about you. i don't feel like i did good enough, made you feel good enough, last time. i just- i wanna make you feel good."

he will not meet your eyes

which tells you he's serious

stunned, you blink a few times and try to think of what to say

"i mean. it was nice?"

he winces and you start to panic

"nonono, it was great!! i'm sorry, i just don't know what to say. no guy's ever come back unless it was for them," you state bitterly

schlatt lets out a shaky breath

"this is for me. somewhat," he admits. "i can't handle knowing i didn't make you feel the way i felt."

his fingertip brushes over your cheekbone as he studies your face

you blush and use the hand you have on his chest to grab a fistful of his hoodie and pull him down to kiss you

it's soft this time, sweeter than the frenzied one the two of you had just shared

he does slide his tongue into your mouth again though, gently and with so much love

you jump and wrap your legs around him so that he's holding you and gasp when he clumsily moves his lips to kiss around on your exposed neck

"take me to my bedroom," you tell him, voice dripping with desperation

he moans quietly and does as he's told, carrying you to your bed and placing you down carefully

"have you ever- hey. schlatt. look at me." you have to snap your fingers to get him to focus back on your face and the words you're speaking instead of your body under him

once he does, you smile

"good boy. have you ever eaten pussy before?"

he nearly faints from the praise as he shakes his head

"that's alright. i'm gonna teach you, 'kay?"

he nods this time, mesmerized by the sight of you stripping off the clothes you had on

the second he's able, his eyes are trained on your wet cunt

he starts forward like he's about to touch you but then falters, eyes flicking upwards to gauge how you would respond

and of course, you gesture for him to explore however he wants

letting out whorish noises the second he dips one slender finger into your hole

he's constantly switching his eyes between watching your expressions and admiring how his digit slides in and out

you squeal when he inserts another and bring one leg around him to pull him closer

"use your mouth, schlatt. look, remember where the-"

you cut yourself off with a shriek as he immediately presses an open mouthed kiss to your clit

holy shit

he remembers

"fuck!! ohh, god, that's so good. you're such a quick learner, huh?"

the praise makes him groan into your pussy, the vibrations causing your legs to tremble

at this point both of them are locked around him, trapping him against you

he's eating you like you're his last meal

taking note of what motions make you scream his name the loudest and which ones don't do as well

your hands are tangled in his hair, and every time he does something particularly pleasurable, you tug on it tightly

which makes him whimper, of course

which in turn makes you twitch; it's a whole cycle

he makes you cum quicker than you thought he would

much quicker, actually

and then he just keeps going!!

pumping his fingers in and out, with little grace at first, since he has to get used to using his mouth at the same time

but once he figures it out, you're praying your roommate doesn't get home until later because the sounds coming from your room are filthy

he pulls away a few minutes after making you cum for the first time

and you whine but he just shakes his head, panting

"sit on my face?"

of course, you oblige- sure, he just wanted to feel like he was suffocating, but if you get something out of it, why shouldn't you give him what he desires?

and then you're on top of him, grinding down onto his tongue as he laps at your clit and sopping hole

he's wrapping his arms around your thighs and trying to pull you down farther

your back arches as you wail how good he feels

but something's building in your stomach?

and as soon as you realize what it is, you try to climb off of him, so you don't fucking waterboard him???

but he won't let you, and you're trying to warn him what's about to happen, but it's too late

you squirt all over his face, soaking his hoodie and some of the sheets underneath you

he groans loudly and just. keeps. going.

he's determined to pay you back, orgasm for orgasm

three from last time for him minus the one you had then, and also the two you just had... you're even now, right?

except you aren't, because schlatt just came so fucking hard in his pants

so now he has to give you just one more

and he will not let you off of his face until you cum on it one more time

it doesn't take long, you're so overstimulated

"please!! please, i can't- it's too good!" you scream

you can feel him grin against your cunt as he continues licking and sucking, teasing you with his tongue

"schlatt!!!"

you're clawing at his arms, trying to get him to release you, because at this point you're sobbing from how incredible he's making you feel

finally, you cum, your entire body shaking before you go limp and collapse backwards onto him

giving him like, the perfect view of your abused pussy

"jesus, i thought you said you had never done this," you joke

"i hadn't. i just needed to make you cum, so i learned."

he says it so matter-of-factly

"also, you might wanna get up, i... i came in my pants," he mumbles

"eugh!!"

#x reader #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt smut #schlatt smut #jschlatt x you #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #jschlatt x y/n

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aangelkeii · 2 months ago

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❝𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄❞ | Oops - Tweet, Missy Elliot ❦ ❀

Kinktober Day 3: Cock Warming (k.tober 2024)

A/N: GOD DAMNIT. okay so i rushed this im sorry it's not my fav but it's what you're gonna get. i'm so tired rn i should've listened to my girlfriend bro oh my gawd. also the photo of him on the ground is really tasty ngl

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

wc: 1.7k (hmm..) | warnings: fem! reader, singular use of the word 'cunt' (sorry, couldn't be helped), cock warming obvi, uhh li'l praise? literally the tiniest bit, this goes on during a stream so like.. voyeurism? viewers are adults dw, pornstar! kuroo is mentioned cuz i think that's so funny, kenma whines. o.0.

Wake up, eat a protein bar, turn on the computer, stream for however many hours, sleep for 3, repeat.

That’s been Kenma’s routine for the past few weeks. He’s been doing charity with Kuroo, ‘Kodzuken: After Dark’, a cheesy title for a program where he does what he regularly does, just for an all-adult audience. He’s dealt with the guy for this long, and he’d do this stupid thing for him. It’s not good for him, though. It’s absolutely terrible, visible in the dark circles under his eyes and the extreme exhaustion written across his face, but he’s been doing this kind of thing for so long that he doesn’t see anything wrong with it.

You beg to differ.

Of course, you support him through his career because it’s what makes him happy (and what makes the money), but it’s gotten to a point that you’re living with a walking zombie instead of your sweet, loving boyfriend. You don’t want to be annoying and pester him about his unhealthy habits, but sometimes you just have to be stern with him.

Sending him a quick text while he was streaming, asking if he could come to bed soon, proved to work somewhat. He did curl in next to you earlier than he usually did, but it was still considerably late at night. The worst thing about his habits is the fact that even with a total of 21 hours of sleep a week, he still manages to look so good, and feel mostly unaffected by it. Most of his exhaustion comes from the drop of adrenaline after a good stream.

You decided to do something about him. Not in a regular way, but in a way that would make him understand.

In the middle of a stream, you opened the door to the office and peeked your head in. Kenma heard the door creak a bit and muted his mic, turning in his gaming chair and pulling one side of his headphones off of his ear.

“What’s up?” He muttered, half of his face illuminated by the harsh light of the computer. His hair was tied back into a ponytail, stray pieces tickling his cheeks every time he moved his head.

“How’s the stream?” You made sure that your face isn’t visible to the webcam. Kenma didn’t want you to show your face to his fans just yet. You understood, flattered that he cared so much early on in your relationship. Even if it’s been 3 years since then, he still stood by his words. “Jus’ wanted to check in.”

He looks back at the screen, reading the chat as they greet you with ‘Lady Kodzuken’, a title that started off as a little joke. It’s the only thing they call you now, not knowing anything about you. “It’s good.”

He looks back at you, giving you a look over while his eyes are away from his nosy viewers. “You going to bed soon?”

You shrug and step into the room, softly closing the door behind you. Kenma’s hand hovers over this stream deck in case he needs to change the screen, but you walk to the side of his desk where the webcam can’t reach. Your hip leans against the desk, his eyes following your every move.

“You gonna come with me?” Your tone is a bit snarky, but mostly teasing.

He looks back at the screen, the look on his face answering your question. You figured he wasn’t, but you’re still slightly annoyed. “There’s a few more levels, then I’ll join you.”

Nodding slowly, you peek around the screen to read the chat. They’re asking where you went and what you were doing.

You step into frame, and Kenma barely reacts in time to switch the screen, going to ask you what you were doing when you took his face in your hand. Your warm palm pressed gently into his cold cheek makes his eyelids falter just a bit as he relaxes. You soothe his cheekbone with your thumb, looking down at his golden eyes. He has a small look of confusion, brows upturned in question.

“Can I stay here with you?” Your soft voice has him nodding before you even finish your sentence. He doesn’t question you when your free hand goes to the drawstring of your pajama pants, undoing the tie and shimmying them down your legs. It’s only when you step out of them and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants that he snaps out of the trance you put him in.

“Wait–” your hands freeze at his hip bones. He has an internal battle with himself, debating on whether or not he should just end the stream and take you to bed like you wanted or let you sit on his lap with barely anything separating the two of you, but your thumbs delicately brush over his lower stomach.

He gulps and releases a shaky breath, reading the look in your eyes. You don’t plan on just sitting here with him. You’re planning something more.

He nods and you resume your actions, tugging the waistband down, and he lifts his hips for you to pull them off entirely. His hand rests on your hip as you settle on top of his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. He knows immediately that this was a mistake.

He can feel how warm you are, seeping through his bones and warming him from the outside-in. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, digging into the back of the gaming chair, and lean down to kiss his neck.

He feels you shift on his lap, seemingly accidental, but the purposeful roll of your hips down on him tells a different story. The seemingly innocent kisses and tender touches was just a ruse for you to fuck him.

“Babe, I’m streaming,” his voice strains when your fingers creep underneath the band of his boxers, peeling them down enough for his hardening cock to spring up. Your hand palms him, pressing the head against his sweater and leaving a small wet spot on the fabric. It’s embarrassing to him.

“I won’t be bothering you,” you spread the pre cum down his cock, taking your hand away to pull your underwear to the side, sitting against him and rolling your hips. He slips between your lips, knocking against your clit over and over, the stimulation enough to make you clench around nothing. When you raise on your knees and press his tip to your slit, his hands shoot up to the sides of your thighs in warning.

Sliding down on him slowly, giving yourself enough time to stretch out around him without hurting yourself, Kenma’s already a panting mess beneath you. When the back of your thighs meet the top of his, a pitchy noise leaves his lips and his head falls back in an attempt to control himself.

“Go back to your stream, baby.”

His eyes dart to yours alarmingly, looking at you as if you were crazy. You expect him to continue on like he’s not buried to the hilt inside of you? How can he act like everything’s normal?

You lay your head back into the crook of his neck, taking in a deep breath of his hoodie, tightening your arms around him as you settle down. A slight shift of his hips has you clenching around him and his head feels like it’s going to roll off of his shoulders. But, he does as you say, unmuting himself with a quiet apology as he switches the screen. Now, he wishes he had set up that screen for when he’s not using his webcam.

The rest of his stream goes by agonizingly slow, periodic twitches of your cunt around his dick that makes him buck his hips involuntarily. You have an impressive talent of keeping yourself dead quiet at times, and he’s entirely grateful for that at this moment. The chat questions every time his face burns a darker red and his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, but he brushes them off with some lame excuse. Either his chat is clueless or stupid, because it should be entirely obvious that he’s stuffed inside of you while you cockwarm him with no care in the world.

His tip keeps nudging against your sweet spot, and after a torturous hour of small, faltering movements, your hips start to pick up in speed. Kenma slams his hand down on his stream deck, switching to some random idle inimation and muting his stream before his hands grip onto your hips, head falling back with a moan. He hasn’t gotten softer with little to no stimulation, only growing painfully more hard. He can feel how wet his boxers have become from how you’re dripping around him, and it’s overstimulating when you increase your speed even more.

“Oh, oh fuck, mmmhn, s’good,” he babbles on, mouthing near your temple, head foggy and determined to come. The slight praise sends a bolt of electricity between your legs, clit pressing harshly into his pelvic bone, stimulating a fire inside of you. It’s a sudden rush of want and need that forces Kenma to reach up to the back of your neck, dragging you away from his neck to slam his lips against yours in an effort to muffle the pathetic whines that pour from his lips. The warmth of his cum inside of you is enough to make you come, too, huffing out your own noises of pleasure as you ride it out on top of him.

It feels like forever until the heat finally subsides and you lie limp on his lap, arms circled around his torso as you catch your breath. Kenma ends the stream quickly afterwards and plans to tweet out an apology or something, saying it was a technical difficulty, hoping to god that no one points out the obvious signs of his bliss with you. He knows that it’ll spread like wildfire if even a single person mentions it, but he’ll worry about that later.

“I didn’t like that,” his breathless voice speaks into the quiet air.

“Oh?” Your head lifts, slightly worried. Did you cross a line?

He looks at your face, pupils dilated and face warm from the rush of blood throughout your body. “An hour was too long. We could’ve been in bed by now.”

Your worries are forgotten. You smile and lean closer to kiss him, cradling his face in your hands.

taglist: @ggriwm @ppsucker3000 @cstandsforchaos @jakeyjakies @cphlo @dumbwaystolive

#fanfic #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #gigihky #haikyu fluff #haikyuu time skip #haikyuu kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #hq kenma #kenma kozume #kuroken #kenma #im gonna fuck him #goodnight everypony

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cinnamonest · 10 months ago

Text

Beleaguer

"Failed escape attempt" yandere series - Diluc

WARNINGS: dark content, fem reader, noncon, captivity, belting/spanking, manhandling, humiliation, darling has a somewhat defined personality, hair pulling, implied forced impregnation at the end, forced fem/housewifization + thinly veiled if not wholly unveiled misogyny, swearing, there's a lot going on here and none of it is holy

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‘Fill cap to line. Causes intense drowsiness and loss of motor function within 5-10 minutes. Soluble. Do not operate heavy machinery if taken within the last 24 hours.’

You blinked a few times, focusing your vision. Your mind could be deceiving you, after all. But when you looked again, the vial in your hand read the same words as it did moments before.

You'd merely gone to set the oil back into the cabinet when the force of pushing one knocked over another further within, coming across the bottle in the very back in the process of fixing the mishap.

You grasped it firmly in your hand, merely blinking in disbelief as you read over the words again and again.

“Oh my God.”

You spoke aloud to yourself, standing alone in the spacious kitchen, the words slipping out on their own in a low whisper.

Daily life as you now lived it brought a sort of mind-numbing stillness to it. Life was repetitive and uneventful. You woke at the same time, performed the same mindless tasks, the same chores, the same interactions. You said hello and good morning to the same maids every morning (you'd lost the willpower to continue being cold to the staff a long time ago), you came down and went through the same routine, wore the same clothes, had the same conversations.

The only thing that ever changed was a few different foods on rotation from week to week and the names and faces of the strangers that came in and out of the lower rooms - although they were all one and the same to you, their attitudes and the way they treated you and looked at you was as though each was the same individual with merely a different face.

And consequently, you'd reached a state of numbness, you went through the tasks mechanically, without thinking, perhaps intentionally shutting down your mind to make acceptance easier. Disconnected, unreal, everything melted together and the days and the people were all one long continuous sequence of occurrences.

It was easier that way. Resisting brought anger, frustration, tears, misery. Allowing the numbness to take over allowed some escape from the reality itself.

Which was likely why reading the words themselves felt like a shockwave through your body, as if suddenly the world regained its colors, you could feel your heart beating and your lungs fill with air. Like a sharp and sudden awakening from an endless, empty, dreamless sleep.

You felt a sudden wave of shame immediately following the shock, chastising yourself for even allowing that numbness to take over, like you might have felt angry with yourself in the past for oversleeping or spacing out and missing something important.

You recognized the handwritten label stuck to the bottle, having gone to the same place for something or another in the past — the alchemist’s lab in the city. That essentially meant it had to be highly effective.

Not only that — the fact that the seal was broken and about a third of the liquid gone, would mean it was very likely the same substance used on you more than once. If so, “drowsiness” was an understatement — it would knock you out cold for hours at a time.

You heard yourself breathing in ragged, quick breaths, you stumbled and steadied yourself against the counter, looking up and around you, suddenly aware of the world around you, everything felt real. The emotions came flooding back — humiliation, resentment, fury.

This was a way out. A miracle.

In your sudden awakening, your mind, sprung back to function, as if the wheels were once again turning, took only a mere minute to formulate a plan. It wasn't really difficult at all — in fact, there was perhaps not a single moment more perfect for you to have stumbled across this opportunity. You were, after all, just about to fill glasses, the final step in your meal preparation.

You set the vial down and ran over to the other cabinet — wiping your hands on your apron to rid them of any residue from cooking — and opened it up, swiping a bottle of juice and returning to the center of the kitchen. The corners of your mouth pulled upwards beyond your control into a grin as you went about the process.

Have a taste of your own medicine, bastard.

You smirked even wider, practically beaming as you popped a tablet out of the packaging, dropping it into one of the glasses. It made a fizzing sound as it grew smaller and smaller, and you watched with wide eyes as it disappeared. Just to be certain, you bent your head down and gave it a sniff, but there was no distinguishable smell or color that would give it away.

And you were certain that, if this was in fact the same drug that you'd consumed, there was nothing about it that tasted unusual.

And once it was complete, for yet another moment you merely stood, staring, grinning and trembling, processing this sudden turn of events. It would be easy, right? The sun was already about to set, the staff were no longer in the fields except for a few security guards that patrolled here or there. It would be easy to spot and avoid them.

You just had to get Diluc to drink this, wait for him to pass out, and run, right? Sure, traversing the road barefoot might be difficult, but that would probably be the extent of your hardships, provided you could get out.

Get out, get on the road, make a straight shot for Mondstadt, go straight to the knights and tell them everything that had happened to you. Maybe you could steal one of the horses they kept for plowing to make your getaway. Your chest burned at the thought of getting your revenge — no, your justice. You deserved this, you deserved freedom — and he deserved whatever consequences would come his way.

…No. You realized, albeit with frustration, that getting revenge wasn't really an option. He had power and money, and you knew all too well how good such people were at evading consequences.

You would just have to run. Staying in Mondstadt certainly wasn't an option. You'd just go… somewhere. Specifics didn't matter as long as you got away from here.

And sure, you'd made a few attempts to get out before, quickly foiled and harshly punished. But you'd never had an advantage like this before. He couldn't chase you down if he was out cold.

You took deep breaths, trying to calm down. It would all be over soon.

You finally managed to wipe the mischievous grin off your face. You knew you couldn't afford risking him getting suspicious if you were too outwardly giddy. Instead, you tried to maintain only a small smile, the numb, dopey smile you'd trained yourself to wear. Nonetheless, you shook your head and settled the plates and glasses onto a tray, carrying them out to the little table that sat tucked away in an alcove in the hallway connecting the main hall to the kitchen. He preferred to eat here when it was just the two of you, with plain cups and plates, rather than the massive dining room with all its ornate tableware — that was only for formal occasions, you'd discovered, whereas this was out of sight from the constantly-bustling staff.

You set the food and drink out — careful to be mindful of which cup was which — then stood, returned the tray to the kitchen, then the vial to the cabinet and, with a spring in your step, turned and made your way down the hall.

You were careful to make sure everything was as it was supposed to be. Straightened your posture, ran your hands down the front of the dress to smooth it out.

You began the short journey from the kitchen to the study, footsteps light and soft, short steps that slowed your pace. No heavy steps that thumped against the hardwood, no letting your weight fall onto each foot all at once, and no slouching. Nor any other such improper, inappropriate behaviors.

It really was a beautiful building, though, so you thought to yourself as you glanced up at the ornate windows. You'd been here before, on your own volition, back long ago, of your own volition. You'd walked by it plenty of times, and once or twice had taken a moment to stroll around the vineyard, figuring it would do no harm, as you were never noticed.

Now, it was a sort of beautiful prison, such an elegant architecture for such a suffocating place.

Upon reaching one particular door, you raised a hand up and gave a gentle knock. A voice came from behind the door.

"Mm?"

You took another deep breath, calming yourself down, trying to mentally switch the ‘on’ button for your sweet obedient wife act you hoped you had mastered well enough by now, complete with an upward shift in octave and sing-song-y touch to your voice. "It's me."

You heard a chair scoot backwards, heavy footsteps, and the door opened. "...Hey." A hand rested on your head. "Food ready?"

"Yes sir." You gave a soft smile.

"That's good... thanks." He patted your head, and seemed to stifle a yawn. His voice was drained, nearly a mumble.

"Are you ok?" You tried your best to make your voice sound soft and concerned, furrowing your eyebrows in a way you hoped looked worried, pushing your lower lip out a bit.

"Just tired. Lots of work today. I'll just eat and then we'll go to sleep."

Oh yes, you will.

Fighting the urge to grin, you slowly made your way back together down the hall — remembering to keep your footsteps light, forcing a sort of soft, feminine gracefulness to your manner of walking, lest you be reminded to do so.

Every little second, every step, every word was practiced and poised. Now, having reawakened to your resentment and defiance, just acting it out made you feel sick.

There was, nonetheless, a residual sense of dread, a nagging pit in your stomach that went deeper than the surface-level nervousness.

There was a major disadvantage — this would not be the first time you tried something like this. Granted, not with this particular substance, but you had once managed to make him horribly sick for well over a day with rat poison, and once again with liquid pesticide meant for the vineyard. Both incidents were purely for the purpose of amusement and spite, which you’d reveled in despite the unfortunate consequences you’d suffered.

The first time, he'd been totally unsuspecting, and the second time he'd been too distracted and busy to notice anything even if you had let something slip. You could curse yourself now in hindsight — if you hadn't committed those first two offenses out of sheer spite, you'd be able to pull this off much more easily. But now, he’d learned you would do something like that, and if the slightest thing was wrong in the taste or appearance of it, he'd get suspicious immediately. You weren't even sure if a single sip was enough to do anything, considering how diluted the substance now was. You’d just have to hope he’d drink the whole thing.

You did your best to make idle conversation as you walked, talking about whatever you did that day, as if it was ever any different from any other day. Your nerves felt electrified, your body tense and stiff as you sat back down and took a bite of this and that, trying to contain your anticipation, trying to look at him out of the corner of your eye rather than directly. He didn't say much, but that wasn't abnormal, only slowly taking in bites of this and that. It felt like an eternity of waiting.

Come on, get thirsty, drink it...

Finally, his hand reached out to the juice. You felt your breath hitch.

Come on, come on!

You stopped moving, anxiously waiting for him to drink.

So caught up in your excitement that you didn't realize you were letting it show on your face, that you had ceased your own motions to stop and stare intently.

It took him stopping and looking up at you with confusion in his expression, for you to feel a spike of panic as you realized the mistake.

"...Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Hm?" You immediately tried to correct the behavior, going back to cutting at something on your plate with a smile, hoping the way you stiffened wasn't visible. "Sorry, I just… I spaced out a second, what did you say?"

He was silent for a moment.

"...Nothing."

Ok. Good save.

You popped a bite of food into your mouth. Besides, despite being an overall intelligent man, he had a tendency to be rather dense sometimes, surely he wouldn't pick up on something like that.

You were fine for now— what is he doing.

You noticed an odd look spread across his features, eyebrows furrowed a bit, as if thinking something through.

Then, he stood up, glass in one hand, and grabbed yours with the other. He swapped your drinks and sat back down, looking up at you with a neutral, cold stare.

Oh.

His gaze didn't falter. He set his elbows on the table, and rested his head on interlocked fingers. "Is there a problem?"

Oh no.

"N-no, I was just... why did you...?" You felt your body go cold, and try as you might not to, you knew panic must be showing on your face.

"It's the same thing, isn't it? So it's fine."

You couldn't miss the suspicious tone to his voice even if you'd tried to ignore it.

"...Right." You smiled, but you felt your lips tremble a bit. You could save this, for now, even if it didn't work out in your favor. You looked at the food, but you could still feel his gaze on you, so, hoping to pacify his suspicion, you brought the cup up to your mouth and tilted it as if you were drinking, closing your upper lip to the glass so that none of the juice actually got in your mouth. Then, after a moment, you pulled it away, swallowing to further the deceit.

He seemed satisfied by the action — right? It looked like he bought it, right? — and looked back down, resuming eating. There was a tense, awkward silence, so you attempted to fill in the empty space.

"D-did you, um, do anything fun today?"

"I wouldn't call anything I do 'fun,'" he muttered. "Just met with a bunch of people, one after the other... there's lots of business partnership contract renewals around this time of year, so they have to come here for that process."

"Mhm." You couldn't care less, but feigned interest. You knew Diluc well by this point, and knew how to appeal to the things that would soothe him the most. One of the most important factors in that was listening to whatever it was he had to say, no matter how boring (which, really, most things having to do with his work were). He liked to feel listened to, didn't have anyone else to go to, you supposed. Lots of stress, high expectations, and no solid support figure probably was the root of his psychological issues. — said issues were something you had spent a lot of time contemplating and trying to figure out in your spare time, given their now inherent effect on your own life.

But you presumed that most men without stress and some kind of serious issues generally did not go around abducting women they barely knew and forcing them to live in their homes. At least, not to your knowledge.

You had often wondered why someone like him wouldn't choose someone who was already that ideal, someone who already exemplified those traits… but as time went by you began to understand that that simply wasn't good enough.

That there was an allure to someone like you, to someone like him. That your very existence as you were on your own upset the man — you'd noticed that within the first few minutes of interacting with him, back when you first started coming to that damn bar you now wish you’d never set foot in. The displeased expression and dismissive tone at your vulgarity and defiance and aggression. You'd thought, back then, that the man disliked you —and he did, in a way.

But for someone who seemed to have such distaste for you, he sure did fail to ever leave you alone. There was some impulsive need to say something to you at some point in each encounter, as if he couldn't allow you to go about your night without at least one look of disdain or passive-aggressive comment. The only thing that seemed more irksome to him than your existence, was the fact that you always bit back, always said something in return, and thus your interactions had only fueled your and his disdain for each other further and further.

The mistake you'd made in your original assessment of him, that you’d slowly come to understand with time, was that he was not a person who simply avoided things he disliked, like most people — he was hellbent on fixing whatever irked him, remediating whatever was perceived as wrong.

You had not been an exception.

Now in the present, as you tried to focus on maintaining your calm act, he kept on talking about this or that. Some people who came by today, some guy who keeps trying to get him to sign some agreement he doesn't want to, this isn't a particularly good crop this season, but he's seen worse, blah blah, nothing you cared about.

You continued eating, which soon turned out to be a mistake — your throat was dry, food wasn't helping, and you desperately wanted something to drink, but you could do nothing but raise your glass up and pretend you were actually drinking your juice. You thought, for a moment, he seemed to look at the glass, and fear he realized the amount wasn't going down ran through your mind, but you tried to calm yourself. If you started imagining things in your paranoia, you'd only increase the chance of him noticing your panic.

There was obvious suspicion a few minutes ago, sure, but there had been plenty of times he had falsely suspected you of things in the past, and was generally willing to believe you once presented with contrary evidence, even once becoming, albeit reluctantly, apologetic when realizing you'd done nothing wrong.

Finally, although you were suppressing the urge to cough at the dry scratchiness of your throat, you finished eating, and, like you knew you were supposed to, stood with a forced little smile and grabbed your plate, extending a hand for him to give you his as well, and took them both back to the larger kitchen area through the open doorway, barely hearing his ‘thanks’ as you scurried off.

You set the plates down, immediately turning on a faucet and cupping water in your hand, before drinking it down to soothe your throat.

Alright, so things didn't turn out quite like you were hoping, but that was ok. There was plenty of the substance left. Just wait a few days, do it again, and control yourself better next time so as not to strike any suspicion. Easy.

The maids would take care of washing plates off, but you needed to dispose of the remainder of your drugging attempt just in case. There was only droplets of juice left in his, and, of course, yours was full. You washed his — well, originally yours — out first, running some water over it, thinking it would be odd if one was washed out and not the other, and you didn’t want to take any chances.

You heard him walk into the kitchen behind you, and unease creeped back up into your chest. But that wasn’t so bad, right? He’d think you were trying to help the staff out, and he’d think that was good, wouldn’t he?

You hummed a bit, and set his glass upside down in its proper place, reaching out to yours and preparing to pour it down the sink drain, when his hand latched around your wrist. You went stiff.

"You should finish it."

Any confidence that you had successfully eased his suspicions might as well have been poured down the drain as well.

"...Hm?" You forced a smile, albeit twitching. “O-oh, I just didn't... finish all of..." You were painfully aware that your voice trembled, and, in a last effort to appear like you weren't nervous, forced yourself to turn your head and look at him.

"You didn't drink it at all." His face was flat and cold, eyes ever so slightly narrowed, but his voice was dark, quiet, knowing. "It's good for you. Don't let it go to waste."

You couldn't argue that you didn't like it — it was the same thing you drank every single night. Nor could you confess why you didn't want to do so. Of course, drinking it was technically an option. You'd just pass out and be forced to deal with the consequences once you woke up — although the cynical part of your mind thought maybe passing out wouldn't be too bad right about now.

Now, the expression on his face grew darker, fully obvious as a look of accusation, and the tone that followed matched.

“Unless there's something wrong with it.”

Your mind scrambled, unable to think of a way out. Your smile widened and twitched, and your body shivered, trying and failing to force a look of happiness, but the crushing feeling of defeat was beginning to settle in. "I... ah, hah, I, um..."

His expression and voice didn't waver, in contrast to your cowering. Looking down on you with something like frustration, perhaps disappointment. There was the slightest edge of a quietness in it, as he continued, "If there is, then tell me."

The last two words came out firm. A command.

"I... I..." You swallowed, visibly shaking, no longer able to hide the fear on your features. You bit your lower lip, and, feeling your eyes burn, your resolve broke.

You hung your head, and replied in a quiet voice, wavering on the verge of tears.

"...I'm sorry."

He released your hand, but snatched the glass out from it, immediately dumping the mixture down the sink. You reached up, wiping away the watering in your eyes that were threatening to become tears.

"Where is it?"

You stiffened at the firmness in his voice. You tried your best to look up, questioning in a pathetic whimper. "...Hm?"

"The— I don't know, whatever you put in there. Where is it?" There was a rising frustration in his tone.

You hadn't thought about that part. Of course, how could you not realize he'd do that if he found out? There wouldn't be another opportunity to try again. That realization left a sting of despair in your chest, you chastised yourself for not saving a smaller portion hidden away. If you'd been smart, you would have prepared for this possible outcome, and saved some so that he would think he'd taken it all. Dammit.

For a moment, you were silent.

"Tell me."

You tensed up, biting your lip.

You were afraid, but it also made you angry. The commanding, authoritative tone, as if he owned you, as if he had any right to tell you what to do. There was a time where you would have responded to anyone who spoke in such a way to you with equal aggression, if not outright violence. Your pride swelled in your chest, digging its heels in at the thought of being obedient, sickened by the notion of giving in.

At your hesitation, he said your name.

It was a low tone, a clear warning in response to your defiant silence. You jolted, and scurried over to the other side of the kitchen, trying to bite your lip, hands trembling as you opened the cabinet and pulled out the container and turned around, hanging your head and standing stiff with fear and humiliation as he took it from your hand and read the front of the package.

He sighed, but as he did, some of the tension seemed to roll off his frame. "...Oh. That." He caught the confused expression you had at those words, and elaborated. "I thought it would be—” he cut off and took another heavy breath, whether out of exasperation or relief or both, you weren't sure. “I thought you were trying to poison me again… or kill me.”

"No," you shook your head rapidly. “I wouldn't… do that…” Granted, you may have very well have chosen take the chance if it was an option, but such honesty would be ill-advised when your current objective was to deescalate the situation you'd landed yourself in, and hopefully quell any further anger before it emerged.

Yes, this was practical, you told yourself — and more importantly, told your wounded sense of pride. You were just being practical, strategic.

Besides, the sedative was the only thing you had available, anyway… well, had had available, since it was now certainly going to be taken from you.

You stood perfectly still as he moved, pulling a key out of his pocket, mumbling something about how he had no idea how that even got there, as he unlocked what you had come to refer to in your mind as the "forbidden" cabinet — where all the various dangerous things lay, such as knives, skewers, rat poison (moved there after the previous incident), bleach even.

You were aware that he and all the staff members possessed a key, as you'd sometimes catch maids or other workers accessing it for various purposes, so you assumed it was there solely to keep those things out of your reach. It had started out as a few knives, but the collection had slowly built over time due to your creativity with what remained at your disposal.

“And here you were actually starting to improve,” he mumbled. The words were heavily laden with exhaustion, frustration.

You clenched your fists. The words crawled under your skin, bothered you viscerally, knowing there was truth to them. Thinking back, over the past few weeks, you'd become more complacent and behaved than you'd ever been prior — part of it had been an act, sure, but a creeping dense of paranoia made you wonder if you’d been settling into it, if it had been starting to become natural. You rejected the thought, insisting otherwise to both him and yourself.

“That's— that's only because I've been here so long… you're wrong…”

Even though the words were spoken weakly, the mere act of disagreement was not within the boundaries of complacency and acceptable behavior. It was not normal for your good wife act. The defiance was slowly bubbling up to the surface, and you could tell from the way you say you saw his jaw visibly clench, that he noticed that as much as you did.

He narrowed his eyes as he turned his head towards you, before shaking his head and returning to putting the offending substance away. He was moving some of the things around to make space for the new object, placing it inside before locking the doors shut again, back turned to you.

But then, there was only more silence as he reached up to rub at the side of his temple with one of his hands.

You hoped for the best, that perhaps the lack of murderous intent on your part would serve to significantly lessen his anger, or that due to contrast, he would view trying to sedate him as a petty offense. Trivial. Overlookable.

“But why would you even want to knock me out…?” He trailed off, looking to the ground in pensiveness. And then, the worst thing you feared happened — the exact intent seemed to click with him.

Your gaze cast to the floor, you could just see him move out of the corner of your eye, walking back towards you, but in fear, you couldn't bring yourself to look up. You saw his feet facing yours as you looked down, and a shadow cast over your hanging head. He was standing right in front of you, and, perhaps out of pride, or perhaps accepting it was inevitable anyway, you forced yourself to look up, eye-to-eye, his own narrowed with disdain.

“…You were going to put me to sleep so you could run off again.”

You stiffened. “No,” you immediately rushed to your own defense. “I just—”

“Yes, you were. Don't—” he huffed, finishing his sentence with gritted teeth, “don't lie to me.”

“I'm not!” Your words that time came out more angry than fearful, your own frustration with everything beginning to balance our your fear.

“I just said—” he cut his words short and took a deep breath, reaching up to rest his face in his hand in a gesture of exasperation. His next words were not as intensely angered, more of a tired frustration laden in them. “You really never learn, do you.”

The words, simple as they were, had a strong effect.

Your fear and anger dwelled in your heart in a state of coexistence — you’d been tamed enough that avoiding pain and consequence was your usual priority, with the anger, the inherent defiance in your spirit, taking a secondary place. But with the right choice of words, the right circumstances, that same defiant spirit that he so very much hated, that he worked so hard to erase, would come bouncing back. A routine you’d been through more than once by now.

That same spirit of defiance had slowly been rising, had been your whole reason for your attempt, but with that, the switch flipped. Your hands balled into fists at your side.

“Learn what?!” Your voice came out louder than before. “Goddammit, I—”

The irritation on his features grew. “Don't raise your voice. And for the millionth time, watch your mouth.”

“I'll do what I want!” You leaned your upper body forward in exertion. “You’re the one that never lets me go anywhere! I wouldn't have done it if you didn't keep me locked up like an animal!”

His head snapped up fully at your voice, eyes narrowing into a glare.

“Don't get an attitude with me.”

Your eye twitched. That was one of your many rules that you so despised, the one you were most frequently found guilty of violating. Commands you were held to for no other reason than the desires of someone else, a projection of an ideal you were so brutally forced to conform to. Don't raise your voice, don't get a bad attitude, don't walk so loud, don't slouch, don't curse, don't make that face, don't talk back. The “don't” commands were bad enough, but the expectation of the inverse, the image you had to conform to, was even worse. To be nice, to sit there and smile and do whatever was instructed without so much as a complaint. Those were the good traits that you were supposed to have, that you were to be instilled with — as if a wild animal to be caught and domesticated.

A dam holding back your emotions seemed to break. You finally raised you voice fully, nearly yelling.

“It's your fault for making me stay in here in the first place, you bastard!” You snarled. “You keep acting like this is normal and it's not! You kidnapped me, dammit! You're mad at me for breaking your stupid rules when you're the one committing a fucking crime!”

You were speaking with such forceful anger you leaned forward with the exertion, panting heavy breaths, hands curled into fists. Your fury reached a peak, throwing aside all regard for whatever line your next words may cross.

"And you know what? I don't belong to you, I'm not your — I'm not anyone's goddamn dainty little fucking housewife! I don’t have to listen to a damn word you say, you bastard, you—”

You hesitated to finish your sentence, about to deliver another onslaught of curses, but stopped short when you tilted your gaze up, and your eyes met.

His eyes narrowed, staring at you with something like abject disgust, irritation, exasperation, but the silence was what amplified your dread the most. A single second of heavy, tense quiet passed, and then you saw him reach down to his waist, grasping at the front of his belt and unfastening it before pulling the other end, rapidly pulling the whole thing out of the loops.

“Come here.”

A very firmly-spoken command. Your stomach felt as if it flipped over on itself, a sudden cold feeling across your flesh, a learned response. You took a step back, drawing your hands up to your chest in a defensive reflex.

You hesitated, feet spread apart as if to move, but in what direction you weren't certain. Your eyes darted to the left and right, and froze as your gaze settled on the arch leading to the hallway.

Which he must have noticed, given the look he shot you. His voice grew quieter, more foreboding. “Don’t you dare run. Come here. Now.”

You had not yet fucked up quite this badly before, not done something to this magnitude — poisoned him, yes, and had outbursts, yes, but never back-to-back, the offenses stacking on top of each other. That outburst just then was the most vicious one you'd had since you woke up here, and you would be given far less lenience now than then. The thoughts of past punishments for even mild transgressions crossed through your mind. The blood drained from your face, your heartrate picked up faster.

It was stupid, really. So, so stupid, so futile, and had you really thought about it, you would know how pointless it was. But in the moment, you weren't operating so much on reason, so much as the dread in your gut and instinct.

For that reason, you turned in the opposite direction, bolted through the door to the hall, and took off running.

"Wh—” You heard the sound in his throat cut off as you bolted, clearly taken aback by the choice of action, but soon followed by a throaty groan of frustration you could hear all too well.

You didn't even really know where you were going. Nor what you planned to accomplish. The building was large, there were plenty of hallways to run down and turns to take — you turned left at the end of the room, then took and immediate right, unable to remember the structure enough to coordinate any plan of action as to where to run, just following the need to run away.

The doors were always locked from the inside and out now, one set of locks to keep intruders out and the other to keep you in. Breaking glass windows was a risk you didn't want to take, and it would alert anyone nearby to your location immediately and would only serve to greatly increase any potential consequence. Thus, for the time being, perhaps you were looking more for a place to hide. Maybe if you could just do that, find a place to cower and wait out the brunt of his anger, he would calm down by the time you came out.

Well, really, you knew that probably wasn’t doable, but it was nice to at least think for a moment.

And a moment was all you got.

You hesitated as you reached a spot where the hall split into two different corridors, and that one moment of hesitation was enough to close the gap between you. You squealed and flailed as a hand forcefully grabbed at your hair, pulling you back.

“Ow!” You squirmed, the balls of your bare feet thumping on the hardwood as they stumbled to regain your balance. “Let—let me go! Ow, ow, that hurts—”

“Hold still.” The command was firm, a foreboding voice that made your heart race.

The fabric around your torso pulled taut against your skin as he took a fistful of the back side of it, other arm harshly wrapping around your waist before you felt your weight lift upward, feet leaving the ground.

You thrashed, but even doing so to the best of your ability had no effect. His grip didn’t budge.

You grunted as you were effectively slung over his shoulder. He started moving forward, footsteps heavy and frustrated. “Gh!” You squirmed, flailed, all to no avail.

Your resistance began to falter in realization of the futility of fighting the now-inevitable, groaning in miserable anger and weakly bringing your clenched fists down on his back as you were, with seemingly little effort, carried down the hall, taking a turn and ascending up the staircase. It was only a short distance from the top to the bedroom door, which opened in a swift, furious motion, likewise slamming shut behind you.

You grunted as you were thrown down onto the mattress. You put your hands down and pushed yourself upward, beginning to try and crawl away, but a hand caught you by the back of your shirt again, pushing your upper body down. You made a rough, irritated noise in the back of your throat as you squirmed, but soon your hands were pinned behind your back, leaving you face down with your hips in the air.

You inhaled a sharp gasp of air and stiffened when you felt the skirt end if the dress hike up, the waistband beneath pulled down, cool air on your bare flesh.

“Wait wait, no, I'm sorry—”

You instinctively jerked forward, squirming, heart beginning to pound in your chest. You had had enough experience to know that this was far more painful on bare skin, as if the humiliation ritual of it all wasn't bad enough.

You felt like a petulant child, begging and whimpering. You tried to move, but the hand pushing down and your knees being positioned right on the edge of the bed effectively forced you into holding the position, with no way to move.

“Then you should have thought about that before you decided to do what you did.” There was no trace of mercy or empathy in his voice. “This is entirely your fault.”

“But I—”

You cut off with a squeal, body lurching forward as sharp pain came down on the sensitive skin on your ass, the smacking sound echoing in your ears. Your jaw clenched, muscles tensing. He wasn't holding back either, one strike was enough to make your eyes begin to water.

“This wouldn't have to keep happening—”

Another strike on the enunciated word. You hissed a sharp breath through clenched teeth and groaned, hips reflexively jerking forward in an attempt to pull away, to no avail.

“—if you could just—”

Another strike. You winced and stiffened, groaning and straining your muscles pulling against the firm hold forcing you in place.

“—give it up—”

And yet another.

“—and learn to behave.”

Another and another and another, three in quick succession. You yelped and jolted at each, a miserable sound coming out of your throat. Unable to maintain enough pride to hold them back, tears streamed down your face.

“Stop, stop…” you whimpered. “It hurts…”

But the only reply you got was calloused and merciless.

“It’s supposed to.”

The next strike was harder than the previous ones. You squealed, taking deep, gasping breaths. Your legs trembled.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, I won't do it again—”

“You said that last time.”

Your heart sank. You didn't have any reply other than to whimper in misery and anticipation, turning to a throaty cry of pain as you were struck again.

“It's for your own good. You would be happier if you just give in. But you insist—”

The leather came down hard. Your shoulders wracked with a sob, completely breaking the last of your resolve to hold back your reactions.

“—on being stubborn.”

The belt came down again, your body jolting and face contorting with the pain once more.

It was the final strike to drive you over the edge.

"I'm sorry!"

You couldn't speak further for a moment, having to take a few heaving gasps. Your shoulders jerked with a sob, sniffling, tears streaming down your face.

The only thing outweighing the stinging, striking pain itself was the tight feeling in your chest of humiliation and bitterness. It was intended as such, of course, to hurt not only your body, but your pride as well.

Your body trembled, heaving breaths and whimpers filling the following quiet. Perhaps your misery was finally deemed worthy of mercy, as despite your tensing in anticipation, no further sudden pain followed, only the lingering, hot sting on your bare flesh.

There was only a heavy sigh.

“Are you done being a brat?”

You sniffled, nodding your head against the sheets. “Mmhm…”

There was a momentary pause, perhaps giving you the opportunity to catch your mistake on your own. After you failed to do so within a few moments, the hand around your wrists tightened, a wordless threat. A brief panic surged through your mind, but you realized where you'd erred within a second.

Still, even though you opened your mouth, taking a breath to speak, some last little spark of stubborn pride flickered up, bitter and spiteful, and for a moment, you refused to give in to it, the one rule you so deeply resented more than any other.

And then he said your name — a foreboding, low tone, a warning.

Thus the brief moment of dignity was extinguished in a single word. You practically blubbered out the words, distorted by your sniffling and slurring.

“Y-yes sir…”

Finally, the grip on your wrists released.

“Good.”

You slumped forward, trembling hands reaching out to pull yourself further onto the bed before you went limp on your stomach and still, head spinning and exhaustion setting in as you came down from the high of the expense of so much energy and stress. As your head cleared, you became aware of the discomfort of wetness on your face, reaching up wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand. The sting was bad enough that you didn’t even bother pulling your clothes back into place to cover yourself, not wanting the fabric to brush against the now-sensitive skin.

There was a long moment of quiet. You weakly turned your head, seeing the pensive look on his face, eyebrows furrowed and looking at the ground. Something about it felt ominous, made your stomach shaft to churn.

“This keeps happening in a cycle,” he muttered, a low voice, almost as if speaking more to himself than you. “You start to improve, and then you regress again.”

Had you not been so utterly weary, not to mention bearing the lingering sting to your backside, you might have gotten defensive, snapped at him over referring to succumbing to the spiritual torment of your life as improvement. But now, spirit already broken as it could be for one day — at least, so you believed in that moment — you only closed your eyes, trying to ignore him. Maybe you could rest your body, at least a little, before the inevitable disturbance of a different form of exertion.

But when you squeezed your eyes shut, as always, the thoughts came rushing through your mind, emotions and recollections all at once, too intense for you to bear. Thinking through everything over again, your mistakes that led you to where you were now — not so much the events of the last hour, and more the grand scheme of things, how much you regretted ever making eye contact with him, or ever setting foot in that damn tavern.

Each and every day, you replayed the final conversation you two had had, sitting there in his own bar after everyone else had gone home, with you insisting on drinking more until you were content. After so much time — or perhaps due to the effect of the drugs, or the alcohol — you'd forgotten what the whole of the conversation was even about, only your response to one of those half-muttered comments about how this or that behavior of yours was unattractive, how you'd never get married if you kept it up, or any of the other things he said that irked you so.

You'd glared, snapping at him.

What makes you think you get to tell me what to do?

The only other thing you remembered — no, it was perfectly burned into your memory, crystal-clear despite your intoxication at the time — was the way he'd frozen, the look on his face when you'd said it, the glimpse you'd caught of it for a mere second. Slack-jawed, eyebrows furrowed, staring down at you with some amalgamation of disbelief, fury, and pure, unadulterated disgust.

Well, it wasn't the only thing you remembered — he'd walked away for a moment, you'd nearly drifted off in drunken haze, and something was shoved into your hands, you drank it without question (like an idiot, you often reprimanded yourself) and then, the next memory was waking up in his bed.

It played over, and over, and over, as you lay there shivering, cold and exhausted. As much as you resented him, you couldn’t help but feel enraged with yourself, each time you thought back to each interaction. That you didn’t recognize that something was wrong, that the degree of quiet malice he seemed to hold for you was unnatural, obsessive, dangerous. You’d just shrugged it off as just being his nature. Such an idiot, you thought to yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

A heavy sigh pulled you out of your thoughts.

“…”

Whatever he was actually now thinking, though, he didn’t say aloud.

Instead, predictably, his hands grabbed at your thighs, pulling you back across the bed. The same familiar knot of dread began to twist in your chest again.

You groaned, a sound of combined exasperation, pain and exhaustion. Your voice came out weak. “N-no, don’t… it’ll hurt too much…” Despite your verbal protest, you couldn’t actually summon the will to do much more than a weak squirming with your body as the dress was pulled up. Your attempts to hold your arms down proved futile as they were easily grabbed and maneuvered to allow him to pull the clothing off entirely, throwing it onto the mattress.

“It’s not going to hurt you,” was his only reply, an assured and matter-of-fact tone, like it was an objective, predetermined truth that you were foolish to contest. His hands moved to your hips, pulling on them to pull you back into your prior positioning. “It only hurts because you don’t relax enough.”

You might have remarked that the two back-to-back statements were quite the contradiction, but in the moment you were too lost in a combination of daze and panic to be too sarcastic. The pull jolted your mind back into full clarity. You tried to push yourself up on your hands, but his hand pressed to your back again, holding you in place.

“Wait, wait—”

You cut off in a shrill wail, toes curling and legs kicking out reflexively as the sting of the stretch set in. Your back arched in a reactive attempt to get away from the sudden intrusion that felt like it was splitting you apart, cleaving your body in half.

"Just—just hold still," his grip on your wrists tightened as your hands attempted to jerk back. He moved one hand to the other, taking both your wrists in one hand so he could reach down to your hips with the other, grabbing at one with a bruising grip and holding you still in place before sliding out, then back in, a second time, then a third.

You gritted your teeth, tears forming in your eyes anew as your body tensed up. The friction burned, the stretch ached. "It hurts," you whimpered, speaking through your teeth gritted in pain. "You-you're tearing me apart..."

"Just relax. You’re too tense.”

“I can’t just—gh!”

His arm shifted from pressing you down to wrapping around your torso, pulling your upper body back up from behind, while also preventing you from pulling yourself forward, and instead pulling your body closer against his, bouncing you back and forth on his cock. Each movement brought your ass bouncing back against his hips, a harsh sting on still-sensitive flesh.

"A-ah, ah…” you clamped down on reflex, trembling hands reaching behind you to push him back, but you were so weak it did nothing. “Wait, wait…” Your words came out slurred and strained.

Suddenly, to your surprise, the movement actually stopped. There was a moment of pause, and for that moment, you actually believed maybe you were receiving whatever semblance of mercy the man was capable of.

You heard his heavy breathing in your ear, felt him let his head fall downward for a moment, as if in thought.

Then, his hands moved once more — this time, one grasping at your waist, forcing your back into an arch, the other reaching up, palm against your throat and his fingers curling to grasp your jaw.

“Fight me off.”

With that, he pulled back, and slammed forward again. You squealed, every muscle tensing and spasming at the ripples of sensation it sent through your nerves.

“What? I don't— what are you—”

Another harsh, slamming thrust cut you off.

“Remember what you said before? When you first came here?” His words were spoken in a low, dark tone, dripping with vengeful spite. His fingernails dug into the flesh of your face. “You told me you didn't need anyone.”

The hand on your hip tightened its grip as you pulled your hips forward, jerking you back as his own hips snapped forward, the motion ramming into you in full all the way down to the base, the flesh of your ass pressed up against his hip bones.

“You said you were strong, that you didn't need protection.” The grip tightened, painfully pressing down. “You said you could take care of yourself.” His fingers curled further into your skin. “Remember that?”

Even in such a flat tone, his voice felt utterly mocking. The defiance you'd thought he'd already drained from your spirit began to surge back up in full force, a burning rage filling your chest.

“If you're so strong,” he continued, words muddled with heavy panting breaths, bouncing you back and forth with increasing pace, “then you should have no problem—” he took another heavy breath, next words coming out as half-spoken, half-hissed through clenched teeth, “fighting me off.”

You stiffened, eye twitching, a rough throaty sound of fury coming from your mouth as you began to squirm, to no avail.

“Come on. Prove it.” His voice grew more intense, lower, harsher. “Push me off. Do it.”

You practically growled, an animalistic sound, savagely reaching up to claw at the hand gripping your jaw, pulling your body forward with all the strength you could muster.

But it was nothing by comparison. As if fueled by your resistance, he only slammed into you faster and harder. At that point, the fluids leaking from your body lubricated the movements, the pain ebbing away, replaced by a warm, tight sensation, pressing against the spots in your body that made you melt, the sheer stretch becoming pleasurable.

“Or maybe you're wrong.” He jerked your head back to the point that the side of your face touched his, his heavy panting warm against your ear. “Maybe you should accept that you're weak.”

The grip on your jaw caused his palm to dig into your throat, not enough to choke you fully, but enough to cause discomfort.

“You need someone to— you need me.” His head titled ever so slightly downward, his hair brushing against the back of your neck.

Trying to turn your head away proved futile, the iron grip keeping it just as firmly locked in place as your body.

“You're so naive. The weak are supposed to be self-aware.” He spoke through clenched teeth, intense anger seeping into his voice. “But you had to go and act so tough—”

A harsher thrust than any of the ones preceding it, so hard you gagged on air, unable to even scream.

“—and be so goddamn mouthy all the time.”

Your strained, animalistic noises continued, pulling your body forward with every single ounce of strength you were physically capable of.

You didn't move. It felt as if you were trying to pull yourself out of steel chains, pure futility. Your arms trembled with the strain, and yet you didn't budge.

“As if I couldn't just reach over and break you any time I felt like it.”

Your toes curled, muscles tensing in pleasure-pain, each movement ramming into a spot that sent sparks of pleasure up your spine, whilst also causing the flesh of your backside to slap against his hips, sending jolts of pain through your body all at once.

“As if any of those guys you were such a little bitch to couldn’t have done the same.”

Sweat coated your skin, running down your back. The bed creaked, violently slamming against the frame. He pulled you so close that your shoulder blades pressed to his chest.

“Do you have any idea how easy this is? I'm not even trying.”

The words felt like a knife to your chest. In the past, you'd been irritated by you inferior physical strength, but admittedly you hadn't stopped to really think more deeply about the matter of your inability to free yourself, in the bigger picture of things.

A heavy, cold feeling began to seep out of your heart, through your chest, into your blood. A dawning realization of your total powerlessness, of your weakness. It was harrowing, brutal, and unforgiving.

You took heavy, gasping breaths. The intensity of every sensation was too much, driving you to a brink of what felt like madness. The ache in your body, the chill in your blood, the pleasure and the sting and the despair.

Your resolve broke. You went limp, panting, eyes watering with bitterness and fury, hot tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes, weak voice coming out as a blubbering whimper, broken up by the incessant thrusts jerking your body back and forth.

“I-I’m, I'm so, sorr-eee…”

The only reply you got was a single word.

“Good.”

You closed your watery, burning eyes. If you couldn't escape in reality, you could at least escape in your mind, desperately trying to block out the thoughts and the shame and the bitterness, trying to focus on sensation, feeling, the way you trembled at the pleasure. The way the sharp sting and the heat of the pleasure began to blur together, the pain itself only intensifying the rising tight, warm feeling inside.

You threw your head back to rest against his chest, whimpering like an animal. Your hands now only weakly reached behind you, grasping at his torso, neither pulling nor pushing. Each movement grew move intense, somehow even harder and harder still, inhumanly fast, flesh slapping against flesh, the sound amplified by the slick and sweat that coated the skin where your bodies conjoined. Your body began to quiver.

The climax that came over you was not the strongest you'd ever had — your body was far too exhausted and pained to even summon such a thing — but the high shot through your body nonetheless, waves of intensity rushing throughout. You let out a long, high-pitched sound as it peaked and ebbed away, mind slipping into a state of nothingness, a fog so thick you might as well have been unconscious.

You barely felt the motions stop, the way you were lowered down to rest on your stomach. Your attention was only briefly pulled to the surface of your consciousness with the sudden sensation of emptiness, the way your insides spasmed to clench on empty space, the chill that set in as the sweat began to cool over your body, and finally the shifting of the mattress as weight settled onto the other side, sitting beside your limp form.

And then, as your consciousness swayed, one faint little thought kept you from slipping away.

Something was different. You were limp and numb from the stupor, mind lost in a haze, but a faint sense of alarm slowly drug your consciousness back to alertness. Something was different, something was wrong.

You shifted, muscles reflexively clamping down on the now-empty space, and stiffened as you felt something fluid ooze out of your slit, drooling down your flesh and onto your thigh.

“Did… did you… cum… inside me…?”

You turned towards the figure blurred by the residual tears and dizziness. You could make out him sitting there, the bright red hair and the flesh tone of his unclothed upper body, see him running his hand over the top of his head, pushing sweat-drenched strands of hair back.

Your stupor had left your eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, but they immediately snapped back fully open as the next words registered with your ears, spoken in a fully nonchalant, matter-of-fact tone.

“This will be good for you.”

You sat up — a movement that took effort, nearly falling back down on hands still trembling with aftershock, and looked up at him with panicked confusion plastered on your face. “…Huh… what?”

Now you could make out his eyes, looking into yours, continuing on in the same blunt voice, as if speaking of a trivial matter.

“…I was waiting. I thought it would be a bad idea to give you a kid before you showed some improvement.” After a moment of pause as he sat more upright, he continued, “But thinking about it, that could be part of the reason you're so badly behaved to begin with. You're… imbalanced or something.”

He held a hand out palm-up in a casual gesture.

“So, it will calm you down.”

You stared, slack-jawed and wide-eyed in disbelief and horror.

“That's—” you twitched. Your voice was hoarse, each word hurt, as if dragging broken glass down your throat. “You're insane. You can't— you can't do this to me. I can't do that!”

“You're being overdramatic.”

“Overdramatic?!” You pushed the heels of your hands into the mattress to propel yourself backwards, crawling away from him as if it would do any good. “No, you don't understand, I… I can't…!”

Your breathing began to speed up, right alongside your heart rate. Panic consumed your train of thought. The implications of the very notion were, for you, world-ending — it would change everything, it would debilitate you and any hopes you had of ever leaving. Even beyond that, just the mere thought, the mental image the idea created, made you shudder.

You looked down. Between your legs, some of the cum had begun to ooze out onto the sheets.

Right, you could extract it all, to the best of your ability, and hope for the best. Your legs were trembling so badly you weren't certain if you could support your own weight, but nonetheless, you tried to make your way to the edge of the bed.

“No, no, I… I need to go wash off—”

“No, you're not.” His hand latched onto your arm, roughly pulling you back. You fell onto your side with a grunt.

You stiffened and whimpered as you felt two of his fingers wipe the inside of your thigh, collecting the semen that had slipped out with gravity and your movement, and pressed the fingers back inside of you, not wanting any to go to waste.

“Don't move around so much.”

Panic turned into aggression, like a cornered animal. Your nose wrinkled up with the furious expression that crossed your face.

“There is no way in hell I'm—”

Your words cut off once more as his hand latched onto your jaw, eyes narrowing.

“…Do you want to do this over again?” He tilted your head up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Because I have no problem with that, if you keep mouthing off.”

You froze up again. The despair took hold. You didn't have any more fight left in you. It wasn't worth it, you couldn't handle another round with the belt.

You bit your lip, shaking your head. It wasn't until he sighed, and gave you an irritated look that you recognized your mistake once again.

“…No, sir…”

He closed his eyes, seemingly content with the rectification. “Good.” He pulled you down further, until you were lying on your side. “It's late enough to go to bed. You need sleep.”

You lay motionless, aside from the still-lingering shivering, watching as he shuffled off the remainder of his clothes and turned off the nearby lamp, plunging the room into near-darkness, before laying back down, turning back towards you, pulling you close.

His arm wrapped around your back, keeping your body pressed to his. Your face rested against his collarbones.

He shifted a bit, causing his hand to just barely brush over your backside — you stiffened, sucking a sharp breath in through your teeth.

“Mm, sorry.”

The half-hearted, sleepy mutter was all you got — an apology you knew was only for the momentary accidental touch and not the pain itself. That would be deemed deserved and justified, should you ever complain, and would probably earn you the same punishment again.

Your face scrunched up with misery, as if about to cry, but your body couldn't produce any more tears.

“Night.”

You felt the rumbling in his chest against yours. You swallowed the lump in your throat before you replied, voice barely more than a whisper.

“…Goodnight…”

There was still a little bit of light coming in through the window — it wasn't even really fully dark yet, the last few rays of purplish twilight visible in the sky.

You wondered if you'd ever see it from any other view than the estate ever again — but pushed the thought away, as you didn't like what you thought might be the answer, nor the way it made you think of the conversation that transpired moments prior.

You closed your eyes, shifted around a bit and — wincing at the fluid that drooled down your leg — tried your best to rest.

#bro really saw an autonomous female existing and said 'not on my watch'#genshin smut #diluc x reader #.dl

672 notes · View notes

blackberries45 · 2 months ago

Note

Okayy I’m back haha, thank you so much for your response and absolutely please don’t feel pressured to if you’re not comfortable but could I request Beetlejuice just like talking you through it and giving praise😭😭 I’m a sucker for him honestly 🖤

Sooooo absolutely just ignore this if it's not what you asked for and or sucks 🤣 I am so sorry this took so long and also that it turned into a short fic. Thank you so much for asking this 🖤

I'd also like thank @hederasgarden for letting me kinda circle and be encouraging. @liquidloz and @84reedsy for reading it and saying it wasn't trash and @the--blackdahlia for fixing the crazy amount of formatting errors and weirdness because I got on a roll finally and everything went out the window.

Brava Ragazza

Notes: I'm terrified to read it again because I'll probably delete it from over thinking, so best of luck 😅

Warnings: smut, thigh riding, praise

🖤💜💚🖤💜💚🖤💜💚🖤💜💚🖤💜💚

You sat on the floor staring at the TV. It had been too long of a day, and you were completely vegging out now. Your elbows were resting on your coffee table, and your head was between your hands. You couldn't even tell what was actually on because you were just staring at this point. A solid hour had probably gone by, and you hadn’t moved a muscle. You did know instantly, however, when he was sitting behind you on the couch.

“Hey,” it was so blasé. “Do you need something?” you asked him without even turning around.

“No, but you do. Make me stick around for a minute."

“Ok,” you said, still staring at the TV and not really giving it much thought. You melted yourself down so your head was just resting on your arm across the table as you lazily said his name three times. Now you were aware you were watching Friends, sideways.

Not caring to reposition, you started speaking without much thought. “I'm surprised you're around today. You seemed rather jealous of that guy I had over a few nights ago.”

Before you had time to realize what was happening, your head was being yanked backward by your ponytail into Beetlejuice’s crotch, now looking upside down at him. He blew a puff of smoke in your face.

“I don't get jealous babes. Now come up here so I can show you why,” he released your head but you were sitting back up too slowly for him. Snap! You were suddenly straddling his left thigh. The quick motion caught you off guard and your arms fell forward to grab his shoulders to steady yourself. His eyebrow raised in amusement,

“You good?” he asked as he slightly turned his head to take another drag of his cigarette. “Now here's what's going to happen,” he slowly blew out the smoke. “I'm going to have you grind yourself as hard as you can into my thigh. I'm going to show you why I can do more just sitting here than that little shit could have done with his whole body.”

“But Beej, I didn't even sleep with him!” You started to protest.

“Yeah honey but you wanted to.” The protest on your face quickly dropped, you know he was right. You didn't really care about the guy you honestly by that point just wanted to get off but it never worked out. He was way too annoying and the embarrassment the next morning wouldn't have been worth it. You started to protest again but this time your voice came out quietly

“I think I'm too heavy to be on you like this and..”

“The fuck you talking about? I'm literally a..”

“And also,” you interrupted him, “This is really exposing. And we haven't even done anything before. I honestly didn't even know you could do anything” That sent him into the ultimate rage. He snapped again and you were naked except for your bra. “Oh my god!” You started to push yourself up to get off him but he grabbed you by the waist and slammed you back down onto his thigh. The instant hard pressure against your pubic bone sent tiny sparks up to your stomach, but you started to say his name in protest again. “Beetle…” Snap! Your mouth was sewn shut.

“Oh no honey, we are way past that.” His eyes went from blue to dark stormy gray. “Move!” you looked at him with giant wide eyes and slightly shook your head. He got it now. You weren't protesting because it was him. You just didn't know what to do.

“Oh! You are such a good girl that you haven't done something like this before, is that it?” you nodded your head but also gave away with your eyes that you liked when he called you a good girl. He picked up on it instantly. He slowly looked at you from your exposed flesh on his striped suit-covered pant leg, all the way up to your eyes, and then stared into them intently.

“I want you to move your hips and grind down like I’m fucking you.” Your eyes widened and your cheeks wet dark red. He put his hand up to your cheek and rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip stitches, as he softened his eyes for a split second before commanding. “Move.”

You swallowed harshly as his hand left your cheek and rested on your hip bone. The sensation of his cool hand on what felt like your now burning skin helped you to get a little nerve back.

You held onto his shoulders as you started to just slowly move your hips. Beej slightly leaned back again against the couch making it harder for you to hold on to his shoulders, causing you to lean more forward. This caught the front of you right up against him where you hadn't felt yet. A little noise escaped your throat.

“You're being such a good girl for me,” Beetlejuice sneered. A cigarette appeared back in his hand again. He could tell that it was hitting your clit this time and how hard you were trying not to let your eyes show it. His grip on your hip grew harder and he started pushing you back and pulling you forward, setting a pace for you to match. As tiny noises started coming up your throat, he started to darkly and lowly laugh.

Annoyance at your circumstance and now him laughing at it caused you to let go of his shoulders. Your right hand landed right between the crease of his leg and pelvis. You squeezed him, causing him to jerk slightly. Your left hand reached for his tie. Gripping it and yanking him to your face you glared at him. With your mouth still stitched shut and your eyelids heavy, half from the heat that was building in you and half from the hatred you had for Beej at the moment, you almost looked as menacing as he did. The whole thing however was getting Beetlejuice more and more turned on.

You tried to tell him something, but all that came out was mumbled through your shut mouth.

Beej snapped as he kept staring into your eyes, inches away from you. You leaned your head back and breathed a deep breath through your mouth and into your legs as you got the courage to look at him again and say, “please help me”.

The look he gave you was probably the same one he had given others right before he killed them. But for you, it was something completely different.

“Thought you’d never ask” He steadied you with the hand still on your hip, but gently moved his free hand down your stomach. He was cold, but his ring was colder. He was giving you time to anticipate what was coming, but also giving himself a moment, as he was easily going to come any minute at the site of you like this.

His hand slowly turned and his long middle finger found the spot you needed. Again, the coldness of him against your rubbed raw hot flesh added to everything. A slight whimper escaped your lips as you leaned forward and rested your forehead against his. You closed your eyes and heard Beej whisper, “Good girl,” again. He moved his hand forward slightly so he could use more of your wetness. He pumped his fingers into you a few times and then slid his middle finger back to where you needed it. You couldn't help moving your hips to the same patterns as he was circling you.

After a few minutes, your legs were getting tired and your breathing labored. He could tell and knew he had to make you come or you'd be too tired to get there.

“Please…” you whispered as he started making faster circles. His pants were now starting to get wet spots forming from you but also where he was starting to pre cum as well. “Can't you just help me please?” You were getting desperate and whiny. He knew he could get you there in this position, it would just take a second more.

”I will gladly fuck you anytime and anywhere babe,” he let out a groan, “but right now is about you… and you're being… such a good girl…” His words were getting desperate as well. He knew if he could get you off that he would get off too.

With your foreheads still touching, and your eyes still closed, Beej nuzzled your nose and then put his lips against yours. You kept your eyes tightly shut so you could concentrate on all the different movements and sensations at once. Just as you started to kiss him back, he put as much pressure as he could against you, causing you to grind as hard as you could into his fingers and thigh.

“Good girl,” He whispered again after he broke the kiss., causing your eyes to flutter open momentarily before you closed them as he crashed against your lips again. Your moans were escaping into his mouth as he deepened the kiss and somehow got faster and faster with his movements until you both couldn't keep up with your making out and you were both bursting.

Your head dropped to his shoulder, panting as his eyes were rolling back and his head flopped against the back of the couch. His movements slowed down instead of ending abruptly. And when you stopped rocking your hips, he removed his hand and brought it to your lips. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, amazed at your own willingness to continue to please him. He stuck his fingers in your mouth gently to clean your juices off of him. Putting your lips around them, he pumped them a few times in and out, his ring hitting your lips as he pushed them back in. When he was finished and pulled them out, you gently rolled yourself off his thigh and onto the couch next to him. He snapped for your clothing to come back and then snapped again for a blanket. Resting your head on his shoulder, he turned to you and cupped your face, the ring still freezing against your cheek. He gave you a smirk before his quiet words hit your ears.

“Brava ragazza.”

#beetlejuice smut #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice thigh riding #beetlejuice praise #beetlejuice #keatlejuice #beetlejuice ask

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y13evie · 1 year ago

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Hi so I saw that you are open to write for house md and I'd like to ask for a chase fic. Like reader is house's kid and either works at the hospital too or gets admitted there but also knows chase and is in a relationship with him. Plot can be fluffy, smutty and/ or angsty I don't really care but I'd like to know how house would react if he sees them interact etc.

Idk if you see this or like the idea but I wish you the best and I really like your fics

hiiiiii anon!! i love this idea sm and i LOVE ROBERT CHASE WITH MY WHOLE HEARTT. dad house is so sweet and cutesy. i tried my best for u

tags: robert chase x houses kid! reader, one use of y/n, house is stubborn but loves u, just fluff

this is embarrassing. never in your twenty-five years of life would you imagine yourself in the hospital that both your father and boyfriend work at. yet here you are, with a 4 cm laceration on your right hand. the triage nurse had just sent you off and notified you that a doctor will be with you shortly. from your room window you could see dr foreman patting a familiar face on the back, probably saying something along the lines of “this case is yours bud”.

as soon as chase read the report he hurriedly rushed into your room. you shot him a sheepish grin and lifted up your hand to reveal the gash.

“my god, y/n”, he sat down next to you and took your hand gently into his gloved one and inspected the wound. he looked up at you, as if asking for an explanation.

“maybe i shouldn’t garden alone. i picked up this clay pot. the way it was sitting had been bothering me for a couple days now. i’m guess i’m not as strong as i thought i was because i dropped it and as it shattered, it cut me up pretty good.”

chase sighed at your stubbornness, something that had drawn him into you since early in your relationship. he took one of his gloves off and gently stroked your hair. he rambled on about how you should really be more careful and call him if you needed anything too laboring done. you weren’t listening. you were staring into those blue eyes. you weren’t into all that cheesy romance stuff but god, those eyes are stunning. your moment was quickly put to an end when harsh tapping could be heard from outside your window. you knew that sound from anywhere.

“you decided to be the one to doctor on MY kid”

house, or dad as you call him, hastily shuffles into your room and gives you both a judgemental look. robert rolls his eyes,

“foreman gave me the case first, i'm just doin’ my job”.

house hobbles over to check your vitals even though it’s a minor issue compared to what they deal with on a daily basis. you know your dad loves you and cares but he’s not the best at verbally expressing it. you knew he would probably just sit there and observe, so you turn back around to your extremely, worried boyfriend.

“soooo” you drag out the ‘oh’ sound, to show him you’re not worried. “whatcha doin after work handsome?”. chase runs a hand through his blonde hair and lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“i was planning to go on a cute and sweet date with you, but instead i’m gonna be dr. chase for another 12 hours”.

he sounded tired but you knew he was more than happy to care for his darling. just as you two were planning out your evening, your father and robert’s pagers began harmonizing. chase gives a quick but passionate kids to your temple. house makes his gag be known, sticking a finger in his mouth for dramatic effect.

your dad lingers in the room for a moment, giving your shoulder a squeeze. it’s still gonna take time for him to adjust to the fact his child is dating his co-worker. but you’re not his little baby anymore and he knows it.

when he heads out his parting words are,

“i’ll have someone stitch you up kid, stay put”.

you lean back in the bed and continue to add pressure to your wounded hand. a few minutes pass and your sweet boyfriend stops by again. and takes a seat at the stool beside your bed. he has the tools to stitch up your hand. to distract you from the pain, chase sparks a conversation.

“your old man..” he chews the inside of his cheek. you know exactly what he’s gonna ask. “does he like me? and not as a co-worker. does he think i’m a good fit for his kid?”. your heart sank at the thought of robert thinking he’s not enough. truth is, your dad did like him. though he would never admit it, the fact robert makes you happy, makes your dad happy. he’s real bad at showing it, but you know it’s true.

“he’s a grump, chase. he likes you. he might never admit it. but the fact he hasn’t beaten you to death with that cane of his really says something.”. you can tell your reassurance helped. you loved robert, and he loved you too. before you knew it the stitches were finished. he pulled out a sling from a cabinet so you won’t irritate the stitches too much.

“hey, i’ll get your discharge papers. we’ll have you out of here soon”.

chase pressed a kiss to your lips this time, and he stayed there for a minute. hand on your jaw to keep you steady. you moved your lips in unison, running your free hand through his hair. a sharp pain stabbed your hand and caused you to pulled away and gasp. he reminded you to take some pain medication once home.

before he headed out the door, robert whips around and sternly demands,

“i don’t ever wanna see you in here again.”

#house md x reader #house md #robert chase x reader #robert chase #robert chase x you #house m.d.#house m.d. x reader #reqs open #i love robert chase #he’s so baby girl i love him #this idea is so cute anon

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w2soneshots · 4 months ago

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Train -George clarkey

words: 0.7k+

warnings: none.

summary: you create conversation with a cute British boy after the train your both on breaks down.

notes: hi! I’ve had some people ask for a George fic and I’m also majorly crushing on him rn so here we are🫶🏼. I’m not sure how I came up with this idea but I love it! Enjoy🤗💘

I spent my day running errands and was just about to get on my train home when I spotted a good looking man who seemed to be around my age. I admired his brown hair, blue eyes and how tall he was. Since it was pretty late there weren't loads of people on the train meaning it was only me, the mystery man and a few others in the cart.

I took a seat then got my headphones out of my bag and popped them on so I could listen to some music and relax. After almost twenty minutes the train abruptly came to a stop. I furrowed my brows.

Suddenly a woman's voice was heard through the speakers as she announced that they were having some technical problems but not to panic.

After a few minutes the woman's voice could be heard again telling everyone that they were working on the problem but that it could be a while before we start moving again. I sighed deeply, removing my headphones and looking around.

My eyes locked with the mystery man I'd seen earlier. "Is this a sign that we're meant to meet?" My delusional mind thought. He stood up, walking towards me. My heart began to race.

He sat down opposite me. "Hey. I'm George." He began. I smiled lightly. "Hello George. I'm y/n." It was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "You on your way home?" He asked. I nodded. "Yeah, are you?"

The conversation continued to flow as we spoke about our lives. He explained his job to me and that's when I realised that I'd seen him on tiktok before. "Wait, were you the guy with a beep in his garage?" He chuckled. "Yeah, I was." "Ah! That's why you looked familiar. I remember being really invested in you finding it."

He cleared his throat after a little while. "So do you have a boyfriend?" I shook my head with a light sigh. "Nope. Do you have a girlfriend?" "No," Relief washed over my body. "Could I get your number then?" He asked. I smiled. "Sure. Pass me your phone." I typed in my number then gave it back to him.

He slipped it back into his pocket with a quick "thanks." Then he spoke again. "So, where do you live?" "London." I replied, getting comfy in my seat. He smiled. "Oh, same! Whereabouts are you?"

It turns out we live just five minutes from each other. My mind was racing by this point. I'd just met this cute guy, we're stuck on a train that broke down, we live super close and he's funny. I couldn't believe my luck.

After almost an hour the train began to move. A smile spread across both of our faces but secretly we were really enjoying each other's company and slightly sad that the conversation was about to end. As the train approached our stop we both stood up.

"Well, it was nice to meet you George." I said as we now stood outside of the train station. "Yeah you too. I'll call you." He replied sweetly. We shared a quick hug then went our separate ways.

Once I got home I called my friend. "You'll never believe what happened!" I exclaimed as she answered the phone. "What?" She asked inquisitively. "I met the cutest guy! The train we were both on broke down so we started talking and he asked for my number." "Oh my god! What does he look like?"

I searched "garage beep guy" into tiktok and his account immediately popped up. I clicked on the link to his instagram then told her the username. "y/n! He's adorable! Wait is he famous or something?" "He's like an influencer I think. He has a podcast, he does tiktok and youtube." I replied.

The next day I woke up to a message from an unknown number. It took my brain a second to register who it was from. The text read; "Hey, it's George from the train yesterday." "Hi :)" I replied quickly. "I was wondering if you wanted to meet up sometime for a drink?" He asked. I smiled slightly at my screen, suddenly exited and quite surprised that he'd actually texted me in the first place. "Sure, I'd love that."

#george clarkey #george clarke #georgeclarkeey #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #george clarkey x y/n #youtuber x reader #tiktoker x reader #british youtubers #fanfic #image #oneshot #x fem!reader #x female reader #x y/n #x you #x reader #fluff

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writeoffside · 4 months ago

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DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader - 1/?

summary: An unexpected visitor comes to your work to check out the history of his company, which leads you both to a tense search for the much needed files… Which is pretty tiring for you.

warnings: none - just swearing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: working on part 2 now hihihi

The time went slowly when you were stuck in the office. The uncountable amount of times you've checked the clock is absurd.

Papers are all over the table, every single document staring at you back. The highly reflective colored highlighters sitting at the side of your desk. Nearly at their lowest as they've been used so many times in the past few hours. The documents are full of names, places, words, numbers and other symbols. Some names are unknown to you, some familiar.

A sigh escapes your lips, turning to the side to look at the clock on the other side of the room.

It was finally reaching the time you were mostly looking forward to.

5:58, the clock read.

"Thank god," you whispered out to yourself. Slowly gathering all the papers from your table and closing the work laptop in front of you. All the papers are quickly gathered on top of each other and put into a dark purple-colored folder. The color is slowly ripped around the edges of the folder as it has been in use for a very long time. A white — now dark pastel brown like color sticker is in the middle of it. The sticker is pulled at the edges,

but still stays on. Your name written on top of it, written with a dark blue pen. You don't have the heart to switch the folder with a new one. It holds too many memories.

In a quick time, all of the things you've had on your table are safely packed and put inside your bag. All the documents are starting to overflow your folder, which ends up taking the whole space in your bag. You know well that your shoulder is going to be hurting pretty badly when you come back home with the bag draped over it.

Your boss had barged inside your office just a few days ago with multiple folders on top of each other in his hands. When he dropped them all onto your table, it felt like the table itself would drop as well and break down just there.

He started talking about how he needs the documents to be checked, corrected, and put out into mails, then returned... And more instructions were flying onto you from his mouth. Which you've totally ignored, but gave him a nod as you pretended to listen to his instructions. The amount of documents there could be counted into hundreds and hundreds.

Now, thankfully, you were about to just go home and enjoy your night by yourself!

Or so you have thought.

As you were about to move your chair back to the table and make your way out of your office, a knock sounded on your door. Which sounded completely different from the knock your boss' usually gives you on your office door.

With a deep sigh, you made your way towards the door and pushed it open. The person who was standing behind the door was someone that nobody in the entire building would expect.

Bruce fucking Wayne.

"Daniel's not here," you quickly muttered out the first thing that came to your mind. Mentally slapping yourself for such an answer. Of course, your boss wouldn't be there... In your office.

"I'm not here for Mr. Meyer... The receptionist told me that you are the only one in the building with the keys to the archive. Is that so?" He asked lowly and looked back to the hallway that he most likely came from.

"Oh! Yeah... I am the only one with the keys," you chirped, backing away from the door and walking back into your office, "I was just about to go home, but thankfully, you caught me just at the right time!" You laughed your sentence off awkwardly. He remained silent and with no other expression. His stoic' expression remained unchanged.

You opened the drawers of the cabinet, which was near the table and fumbled with the drawer, which keep the keys safe. Finally opening it and pulling out the set of keys that could open the multiple doors of the archive. The keys rattled with a sound as you picked them up from the drawer.

Then in just a moment, you closed the drawers, stood back straight, and looked over to Mr. Wayne, who was still standing outside of the office. Now fidgeting with his fingers, with his head hung low. He stood here, waiting, with no intention to move inside the office to retrieve the keys himself from you.

He was wearing a dark set of brown pants, which weren't skinny nor baggy. A white pastel-like blouse underneath a matching dark brown jacket with its front opened. The little cufflinks with 'W' could be seen on the cuffs of the blouse. His shoes were peeking out from the bottom of the pants. His dark hair was falling into his face and his pale white skin was showing off.

You shuffled back outside and closed the door of your office. Your belongings still inside as you'll have to take the keys back and lock them up back into the drawer after you come back from the archives.

"Okay... We can go now, this way! Down the stairs and then to the archive doors," you told him as he looked up to meet your eyes. His expression still hasn't changed since he knocked on your door.

Both of you made your way towards the staircase with no words uttered between each of you. The steps echoed around as both of you walked down. The sound of your heels hitting the stairs echoed down the staircase.

"If I may ask, Mr. Wayne... Why do you need to go to the archives? Is there something wrong with the documents we've sent back to the Enterprises? We can—" You were quickly cut off by his husky voice.

"No. There's no problem with the documents we've received," his voice cut your rambling quickly, "I've found something else... In the older documents. What my father might still have stored down there, in your archives... I need to check them out for certain reasons," he informed you as you reached the end of the stairs and started walking through the long, hardly lit, hallway.

The walk to the archives felt endless.

The sound of your heels hitting the tiled floor started to echo around the hallway once again. His walk was steady and his steps were long. The awkward silence felt like it grew with each step you both took. You had to walk even quicker than before, to catch up next to him.

"Here it is," you told him as both of you stopped in front of locked doors with a black bold writing on it 'ARCHIVES' and a smaller text underneath which said; 'RESTRICTED AREA; NO ADMITTANCE - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY'

The keys jiggled as you looked through them to find the right one for the first door. The key had a little red cover on it with a little black bold number one, '1' written on it. Meaning that it's for the first door of the archives.

You unlocked the first door and turned to Mr. Wayne to let him in first. With a nod, he entered the room and walked deeper into the room.

"Your father's documents are stored in the more 'locked up' side of the archives, the much more important side," you told him as you closed the door behind you. The room is filled with drawers, shelves and boxes full of important documents, the scent of old paper making its way to your nose.

You quickly make your way towards him, where he's standing by door with '2' written on it and some smaller text underneath it, which you don't care to read as you've been there multiple times before.

You unlock the door and let him in first again. Closing the door after the two of you. You look over as you see him stalk over to the next door at the end of the current archive room.

God, this man has no patience.

"What's up with your father's documents, though? They've been checked, even multiple times and on different occasions... And your father, he used to—" You started rambling to him as you approached him but you were, once again, quickly cut off by him.

"I know. But I have to check something on them. For personal reasons and also to check up on our history, the Wayne Enterprises' history, with others... I know what I'm doing," he snaps back at you sternly, now looking straight at you, into your eyes. His brows furrowed.

The tone that he spoke to you in, was no close to respectful, nor close to being polite. A scoff wanted to make its way out of your mouth, but you rather kept it shut. Your lips press into a thin line as you watch him look back at the door he waits for.

You unlocked the third door and let him in first again. He stops and looks over at you for a split of a moment and then he's turning his body away from you and heading inside, leaving you standing by the door alone.

With another sigh, you make your way inside, closing the door after you.

You made your way towards him, where he was standing. He was standing by the drawers with a big red 'W' written on the label, peeking from the side of the drawers. All of the drawers marked with red 'W' contained all the documents from the Wayne's.

"You can... Um, check the documents you need. Just put them back into their place, where they were placed before," you told him as you watched him open the first set of archive drawers to check through them.

A few minutes went by, he put out about five files out onto a table next to him. He went through every single document and file, flipping through every page he came across.

"Who's this?" He suddenly asked. His finger stopped at a certain part of the document he was reading at the moment.

You stood up from the very much uncomfortable chair that you were sitting on. You made your way towards him and looked over to the documents that he was holding.

He lowered the documents to your height and his finger hovered above a certain name.

Scott Starkey.

His name was crossed out with a black marker. In every sentence, his name was mentioned.

You looked up to meet his eyes and then back down at the name, "He used to be close with your father. He worked hard to reach a position as your father had... Or at least one close to him. He was so ambitious and hungry for success as he, your father, had," you started telling him. Bruce's eyes stayed on you.

"His ambition to get to that position literally consumed him and morphed it all into one huge obsession. He fought against his own limitations. He didn't know when to stop... His friendship with your father started to tear, he couldn't understand why your father had achieved so much so effortlessly. His admiration turned into resentment, anger, and total hatred against him," you told him as you looked up to meet his furrowed expression. His stance was now noticeably different, he was standing straight as he listened to you.

"He dug so deep into your father's personal life. Scott started to spread your father's secrets and things about his personal life, your father's reputation wasn't going to end well for him, or anyone in the Wayne Enterprises if he would have continued," you sighed as you stopped for a moment.

"What happened to him?" Bruce suddenly rasped out into the silence with his question. He looked into your eyes and then down at the documents, which he was holding in his hands. A deep frown on his face after hearing thr backstory from you.

"I don't really know..." you mumbled out to him. Your mind going blank now. They never told anyone what had actually happened to him, he just left everything behind and never came back.

He completely disappeared.

Bruce hummed and closed the file quickly. The dust flew into the air. Floating around the two of you. The files haven't been opened for a long time now.

A cough made its way out of you from the dust. You waved your hand around to get the dust away from your face.

Meanwhile, Bruce turned his body away and opened the next drawer, and took out the first file of documents, reading and listing through them. His brows were furrowed in concentration, eyes running over all the words, numbers, and symbols written on the paperwork.

You went back to sit in the chair you sat in moments prior. You didn't take your phone down there, so you've got no idea what the time currently is. But you know one thing and that is that you should have been home for at least an hour now. Not at work, sitting in the archives, on the most uncomfortable chair ever, and with the Bruce fucking Wayne.

You try to sit comfortably on it as you watch him go through another opened file, which is more of a yellowish color. Must be an older one than the other ones.

As you watch him closely, you can feel your eyelids getting heavier. Your head slowly falls forward, hanging lowly. Your eyelids flutter shut and you can feel yourself drifting away into the darkness.

The sound of traffic and the rhythmic hum of a car wakes you up.

You slowly come to your senses and open your eyes to see the road of Gotham City, full of traffic, in front of you. The rain is falling against the car.

The car. You're in a car.

Your head quickly shoots up to look at your surroundings. You blink a few times as the very unknown and unfamiliar surroundings come into focus.

You're seated in an unknown car in the passenger seat, with a seatbelt on. The interior of the car is black and looks way more luxurious than your car does.

You look to the side and you finally see the driver of the car.

Bruce Wayne is sitting at the driver's side, holding the steering wheel. His side profile is up to your eyes as you watch him from your seat.

His eyes suddenly flicker to yours and you can see a slight hint of a smirk coming up on his face. And then it's quickly gone.

"You're awake," he says, his eyes returning to the road ahead.

"Where... Where am I? I was at the archives. Where are my things?" you groggily ask as you push yourself away from the window that you were leaning against the moments before.

"Wait! The keys! I didn't put them back, didn't lock the doors! Oh my god, Daniel's gonna kill me!" The realization suddenly comes onto you and dawns slowly. You recall your last moments when you were at the archives; sitting in the chair, slowly falling asleep while he checked through the files.

Bruce sighed softly at your rambling, "I locked all three doors. As well put the keys into their place and locked your office," you looked over to him once again as he talked, "your things are in the backseat, don't worry."

You slowly looked over to the backseat and saw your coat and your bag on the seat, with the dark purple folder peeking out. You smiled to yourself.

Then the silence filled the car they were in for a brief moment.

"Thank you... For taking care of the things and taking me with you," you said to him after a few brief moments.

You see him give you a small nod, his gaze never moving from the road and traffic ahead. His hands turn the wheel to the side as the car moves to the left. You recognize the street you're driving through.

"Wait— How'd you know where I live?" You ask him as you watch the buildings and cars go by through the window.

"A friend of yours told me… Angus?" He answered, his eyes flickering to yours for a moment. His expression is much softer than back in the archives.

"Oh! Angus, yeah..." you sigh as you lean back into the seat, the tiredness creeping back onto you.

You watch the buildings go by and then another turn comes. Then you see your apartment building just a few buildings away from where you're right now.

"This is me," you point out to the building you're nearly at. The building looks like any other ordinary building in Gotham.

Bruce nods as he slows the car down and parks near the curb, in front of your building entrance.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door of the car. Your feet meets the pavement and you stand up. Your body aching from the sleep.

You softly close the front door behind you and make your way toward the back door to get your things out.

You're met with Bruce standing by the other side of the car, with your long coat and bag in his arms. He walks around the back of the car and hands you the items.

"Thank you," you utter to him softly, taking the items from his grasp, "for everything you've done for me today. Means a lot," you smile up at him.

You're so sure that you saw the corners of his mouth turn a bit upwards. A smile wanting to creep up onto his face.

"No problem," he says after a long pause. He nods his head and leans against the back of his car, his arms folded over his chest, and closely watches you stand.

His tone was steady but his eyes and posture said differently. His eyes held a hint of something even more. A very subtle, small smile coming up onto his face couldn't even be seen.

An awkward silence took over your small conversation.

You shuffled from side to side on your feet, looking down to the ground before meeting his eyes once again.

"So... Well, I should probably... I should probably head in," you say with a small smile to him, clutching your bag and coat to your chest.

"Oh, yeah... Of course!" He quickly replied with a shake of his head. As he pushed himself off the car.

You gave him another shy smile and turned yourself around to leave, walking up the stairs to the entrance of the apartment building. As you reached for the door, you looked back and lifted a hesitant hand to give an awkward wave to him.

Turning back and opening the door to the building. Your steps finally met the surface of the tiled floor of your apartment building's first floor.

You take a quick glance over your shoulder and catch your eyes with him once again.

Then he lifts his hand as well, and a very hesitant wave comes back to you. A smile plastered on his face. His smile grows as he watches you disappear into the apartment building. A warm feeling spreading through his chest.

With a final glance at the building, he walks around and gets back into his car. The childish smile not leaving his face at all.

The whole ride back is quiet. But he can hear his heart beat so loudly inside of his chest. As he drives, he can only think of one certain thing. His mind is stuck.

He only thinks of you.

PART TWO

bruce wayne fic is here! i'm so obsessed with battinson hahahah

give it some love if u liked it thank uu <3

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vgilantee · 2 years ago

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dorm room antics {ethan landry}

ethan landry x fem!reader

requested: n/a

words: 2k

a/n: surprise! turns out when my brain decides to work, i can write a 2k word fic in three hours. which means you guys get a march fic! this fic is part of what i like to call “char’s ethan fic universe” in which i haven’t written any other fics, but it’s all apart of the long ask i sent julie (this one here) so i will mention a couple things here that reference it. Also on referencing things, i was tempted make a star wars reference in here, but julie doesn’t need more reasons to point and laugh at me and call me a star wars nerd (julie would never point and laugh at me, i love her). This is not a smut but things get a little steamy. There may be an alternate version that starts the same but is nsfw (oh my god finding a gif for this fic was too hard and this isn't even the one i wanted, but tumblr hates me)

warnings: steamy!, if you were reading fanfics in the 2000s/early 2010s this would count as an orange

pronouns: none used

You had everyone’s timetables memorised, all of you did. It was one of the first things the four of you did at the start of each semester; you sat down and learned each timetable so you always knew where each other was throughout the day. It was how you knew that Chad would be out of his dorm.

You knocked on the door, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Ethan didn’t know you were coming over, you wanted to surprise him with your company on his day free of classes. After your first and only class of the day, you would usually be with Mindy in the library or Tara in one of her lectures. But Mindy had ditched you to spend time with Anika, and Tara was in bed with the flu. Not that you needed the excuses to spend time with Ethan, but Mindy didn’t entirely trust him, so the excuses were required to satiate her.

The sounds of moving around came through the door, and you heard Ethan muttering that he was coming.

“Oh, hey.” Ethan’s curls bounced a little as his head tilted in surprise. He gave you a dopey smile and stepped to the side, letting you move past him and into the room. You had been in the dorm a few times, but you still couldn’t help turning in a slow circle to look around. On his bed was a textbook and notebook, as well as various pens scattered on the sheets.

“Sorry, did I interrupt your studying?” You turned back to face him, lazily pointing at the study supplies on his navy sheets. Ethan blinked, almost as if he forgot the stationery was even there, before shaking his head. As he did, you noticed just how long his curls have gotten, falling into his eyes more than usual.

“No. I mean yeah but-” He bit his lower lip gently. “You’re always welcome to interrupt my study.” Ethan’s mouth quirked in a shy smile, trying to hide how he cringed at what he said.

You took a step toward him and reached your hands up to his shoulders, lazily looping them around the back of his neck. Almost immediately, Ethan’s hands moved around your waist and pulled you flush against him.

“Are you sure? I can leave you to your…” you glanced over at his bed to try and decipher what subject he was studying, “I have no idea what that is but I’m sure it’s important.” You felt the breath of Ethan’s laugh against your hair.

“It’s programming and yeah, I’m sure.” You turned back to him, making quick glances down at his mouth that was so close. “Don’t leave.” Ethan’s voice was barely a whisper, embarrassed but pleading, and you stopped fighting the voice in your head and leaned up to finally kiss him.

It quickly deepened, one of your hands moving to his face and the other weaving into his hair. Ethan’s fingers dug into your waist, pulling you even closer to him, so close that one of his feet ended up between yours.

When you pulled back to take a breath, you kept your eyes closed, foreheads rested together.

“Bed?” You felt his hands tighten slightly as your breath hit his mouth. You and Ethan had slept together before, but only a handful of times, and every time Ethan started out quietly excited, and shy.

Ethan let out a single hum before dropping his hands to the backs of your thighs, encouraging you to jump lightly and wrap your legs around his waist. As soon as he was sure you’re safely held up, he took the five steps from the door to his bed. You expected him to place you on the bed, but instead he turned and sat down, sitting you on his lap. As soon as you’re comfortable (which took a fraction of a second) you pulled him forward by the back of his neck, reigniting the kiss more desperately. You left one hand weaved into his curls, but the other dropped to grip his bicep.

His hands slide up from your thighs, pausing briefly on your ass to give the muscles a gentle squeeze. You rolled your hips gently forward in response to the squeeze, and you felt the light vibration of his hum against your mouth. Ethan moved his hands up a little further, encouraging your movement, and you gently bit his bottom lip. Ethan opened his mouth and the kiss quickly became messier, tongues rolling against each other and teeth occasionally bumping.

As you moved to pull away, you pulled Ethan’s tongue into your mouth and sucked on it gently pulling a moan from deep in his throat. You opened your eyes, seeing him with his cheeks flushed red and his eyes still closed, his mouth opened slightly.

You could never get over how pretty he was, especially when so flushed. And you always felt a swell of pride because you were the one able to get him like that and the only one who got to see the sight underneath you.

Ethan slowly opened his eyes, pupils blown. He slowly raised a hand, pushing some of the hair that had fallen out of its place in your ponytail behind your ear before quickly leaning down and gently bit and kissed at your neck. Your head rolled to the side, desperately exposing more skin for him to give attention to. His tongue rolling over his teeth marks elicited gasps from you, your fingers lightly tugging at his hair in a silent plead for more.

A soft moan broke from your throat as Ethan bit down, slightly harder, and sucked, determined to leave a deep mark. You pulled harder at his curls in retaliation and rolled your hips against him. Ethan dragged his tongue across the mark, continuing to move it up your neck and along your jaw until his mouth meets yours again for a short kiss.

“You sure?” Regardless of how many times you made it clear to Ethan that you wanted him, he always asked, checked to make sure that you hadn’t changed your mind. You rolled your hips again in a silent reply.

“Completely.” Ethan let out a whimper before pulling your hips down, letting you feel his need for you under your core. You let out a choked sound before pulling Ethan into a rough kiss that left him gasping.

For every roll of your hips, Ethan responded with a sound against your mouth, though it didn’t take long for him to begin retaliating instead with soft thrusts upward. Your head fell back with a breathy moan, and Ethan quickly began pressing open mouthed kisses to your throat, humming every time he felt you make sounds.

“Ethan.” You whispered out his name and his hips twitched forward, further into you than his teasing rolls. Using the hand in his hair, you pulled his face back to you, and your other hand slid down his chest before slipping under the hem of his shirt. Your fingertips grazed across his abs, and you smiled against his mouth as stomach flinched from your touch. Your hand continued to move up to his chest, dragging his shirt with him, until you pulled away, silently begging for him to take off his shirt.

Ethan dragged his hands from your waist, across your thighs, prolonging taking his hands away from you, but finally he did, following your quiet ask and took off his shirt. You raked your fingernails down his chest to his stomach pulling a whimper from Ethan, before your hands quickly moved to loop around the back of his neck, moving to kiss him as his warm hands met your skin again, one hand snaking under your shirt to rest on the bare small of your back, and the other resting softly on your cheek.

You gently let out a moan as Ethan bit down on your bottom lip, your nails digging softly into the skin on the nape of his neck.

“Oh, fuck!” Chad’s sudden voice caused you to jolt. You hadn’t even heard the door open, you were so engrossed in the feeling of Ethan. Ethan quickly pulled away from you, and you tried not to follow after his suddenly-missing mouth. “Ew, that is so not what I wanted to see in my dorm.” You rolled your eyes, flipping Chad off over your shoulder.

You tried to fight the soft smile as Ethan pressed his face into the side of your neck, wanting so desperately to hide from his roommate. His soft curls brushed against your skin, raising goosebumps.

Turning to follow the movement of your arm, you glared at Chad, who had a hand over his eyes while dramatically using the other to feel around for his side of the room.

“Oh fuck off, Chad.” You said with a slightly amused laugh. Ethan sighed into your neck and the sudden breath made you realise that you were gently stroking his hair. Your fond smile won against your fighting as Ethan hid.

“This is my room!” Chad threw his hand up, keeping the one already over his eyes pressed firmly in place. “Now, are you done dry humping each other so I can grab my shit?” You reached for the bed beside where Ethan was sitting and grabbed one of his pens, throwing it at Chad but missing.

“Yeah, yeah.” Slowly, ever the drama queen, Chad peels his hand from his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sound of relief.

“I can’t believe you almost defiled my poor, virgin eyes.” He pressed a hand to his heart while walking toward his desk to grab his forgotten textbook. “Corrupting my innocent soul with your filth.” You threw another pen at him, this one hitting him square in the head.

“Innocent, my ass.” Chad let out an indignant gasp. “Don’t you,” you mocked the sound he made, “me, fucker. I’ve walked in on you doing worse.” He gasped again.

“I would never!” His voice was weighed down with sarcasm and he pressed his textbook to his chest. Chad tsked at you before walked back to the door. “Don’t get cum stains on my bed, assholes.” Ethan let out an embarrassed groan against you skin, and you flipped Chad off again.

“I’m going to move to your bed just to spite you.” Chad scrunched his nose in disgust and Ethan pulled back from your neck to stare at you in shock, praying you weren’t serious.

“You’re fucking disgusting.” Chad, ever the dramatic, pulled the door shut, ensuring that he got the final word. When you looked back to Ethan, he was still looking at you, eyes wide in horror. You winked at him with a smile.

“You wouldn’t..?” You snorted out a laugh and your head fell back, shaking your head.

“Fuck no.” You ran the backs of your fingers across his cheek softly, revelling in the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Ethan sighed, leaning into your fingers. “He would be so lucky.” His mouth dropped open again and you leaned forward to kiss him on the tip of his nose. Ethan let out a contented hum, and the soft sound caused your hips to grind against him on their own. Once again, Ethan’s fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your waist.

“Did he ruin the mood?” Your voice was shy, unsure whether his bruising fingers was a warning to stop, or him trying to hold back.

“No. Not for me.” Ethan leaned forward as he spoke, saying the words against your shoulder before pressing a light kiss to your skin, rolling his hips up lightly against you to pull a sigh from you while your head rolled back. “Not when you look like that on my lap.” Neither you nor Ethan knew where his confidence came from, but you quickly pushed your questioning aside as he pulled your core down against the tightness in his trousers and bit down on your shoulder softly.

moot tagging: @websterss

#char writes #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fic #reader insert #ethan landry scream #ethan landry #scream x reader #scream x you #scream reader insert

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lottins-only · 3 months ago

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I love you, it's ruining my life | Part III

pairing: Kylian x black!fem!Reader

warnings: some nsfw (?) content

word count: 6.9k

part one, part two

A/N: this one is a bit long 🫠 Thank you to those who read the first two parts, and to those who sent me sweet messages🙏🏾Inbox is open, so please do let me know your thoughts !! <3

III. December 2022

“What are those for?”

Y/N followed Ethan’s inquisitive gaze to the top of her tote bag . She quickly shoved down the bags of candy peeking out, trying to conceal their abundance. She knew she’d packed way too many, but more meant better options, she’d reasoned. Especially since the person they were meant for had the sweet tooth of a 5 year old.

“Oh, you know me, I always have to have snacks on me” She lied.

Ethan looked at her like she was a madman, then shook his head before turning his attention to his phone. They were sitting outside at a luxurious hotel that served as the base camp of the French National Team for the duration of the World Cup. With the final only a few days away, the FFF had organized a “fun day” for the players to unwind with their loved ones. There were bouncy castles and inflatable slides littered around the lawn for children, while the irresistible aroma of barbecue wafted through the air. Kylian was somewhere entertaining his niece and nephew, and was hanging out with his parents as well. Y/N and Ethan, introverts as they were, spent most of their time chilling on the lounge chairs drinking mojitos (Virgin mojitos for Ethan; he’d tried to convince her to let him have a try from her drink but she’d refused).

Y/N was enjoying herself. Truly savoring every moment. A one month-long, all-expenses-paid trip to watch her best friend play in the World Cup? She couldn’t have submitted her PTO request fast enough.

“It’s probably only going to be 2 weeks though” Kylian had said to her half- jokingly when he’d proposed the idea over the phone. He was referring to the “winner's curse”, the jinx that often saw past winners exit the tournament in the group stages. But against all odds, France was once again in the final of the World Cup.

She opened her phone, dismayed to find zero new messages from her boyfriend of 8 months, Lucas. They had met when she moved to Madrid straight after graduating from university. She’d found a job at a small public health non-profit, and Lucas had been one of the few people working there that was her age. They’d quickly struck up a friendship, and he’d immediately asked her out after he left that job a few years later. It was a no-brainer for Y/N to say yes. He was good looking, charming, and made her laugh. Besides, it was well past the time to move on from Kylian.

For his part, Kylian had been ecstatic when she’d returned to Europe. They had grown closer after both of their moves, despite the distance. They facetimed at least once a week, and it sort of became a tradition for Kylian to give her a quick call before games. They’d text regularly too, their conversations meandering from trivial topics to deep confessions. Once, she’d mentioned that she used “Study with me” YouTube videos for her study sessions, as it was a way to keep herself accountable.

“I could do that with you, you don’t need stupid youtube videos” he’d said confidently over the phone.

She’d laughed. “You can’t shut up for 2 minutes if your life depended on it, Ky”

“No, I can” he’d said seriously. “I want to, for you”

And so they’d formed another tradition. They’d sit silently on facetime for hours and hours, Y/N poring over her books and notes, and Kylian in his room alone doing god knows what. He’d check in on her every once in a while, always encouraging. She knew that he had a busy life and few precious hours to himself, so she was grateful that he’d decided to spend that time with her, doing something that had no immediate benefit to him whatsoever.

They’d opened up more about their love lives as well, as they’d promised to each other back in Monaco. She didn’t volunteer any information herself, because it was still a little weird, but she’d answer questions if he probed. It was a lot less easy for Kylian to hide things from her, thanks to his growing fame. She’d only have to scroll through her explore page on Instagram or go through gossip websites to find detailed information about any woman who so much as breathed next to him. He’d continued dating people after the breakup with Sophia, which had happened only a month after her visit in Monaco. But much to her relief, it was never serious with anyone. She’d once seen pictures of him in the stands at the Parc des Princes with a blonde actress, and that old feeling of jealousy had snuck up on her like it had never left. But just two weeks later, Kylian informed her that it was over.

She had mentioned Lucas to him pretty early on in the relationship. Like she expected, he’d made a bad joke out of it. Something about HR needing to be alerted. She’d reminded him, rather annoyed, that Lucas no longer worked at her workplace. He didn’t say anything after that, quickly changing the subject. One day, however, Lucas mentioned something that gave her pause.

“You know something crazy that happened to me today?” He’d laughed. They were lounging on her couch in her apartment, watching a movie. “Kylian Mbappe liked a picture of mine on Instagram, from like 6 years ago”

She’d furrowed her eyebrows. Lucas was a huge football fan, but Y/N still hadn’t mentioned her friendship with Kylian. It had only been a month of them seeing each other, and about 3 days after she’d told Kylian about him.

“Yeah, look” Lucas brought out his phone and showed her a screenshot. Sure enough, Kylian’s username was under a picture of Lucas’ dated December 2016. Lucas was a regular poster on Instagram, so Kylian must have scrolled far back to find that picture. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“I know right?” Lucas had said. “Funny thing is, it disappeared just a few seconds after I got the notification. So random.”

She imagined THE Kylian Mbappe in his bed late at night, lurking on Instagram, accidentally liking an old picture and then hurriedly unliking.

“Yeah” she had said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Random”

As Y/N’s thoughts drifted back to the present, she glanced at her phone again. Still empty. After a rocky couple weeks of arguments, Y/N and Lucas decided to go on a break. Lucas had grown distant and less affectionate. He was less present when they spent time together, and was generally making less effort in the relationship. It had been a punch to the gut when he’d forgotten her birthday two weeks ago. She hadn’t said anything; he’d only realized when he saw the huge bouquet of flowers from Kylian sitting on her dining table.

That was also another sore spot in their relationship; Lucas was not at all comfortable with her friendship with Kylian. He hadn’t mentioned it, and she had made a point to tone down the constant texting and calling as soon as they became official, but she could still see it in the way he behaved. The World Cup trip was the tipping point. She couldn’t blame him; Her male best friend, who was one of the most famous footballers in the world, was bankrolling a one month trip for her to watch him play on the world’s biggest stage. It would be a hit to the ego for any man. But frankly, she was tired. She was tired of him, and she wanted time away from him. And so the break began.

She did not miss him, if she was being honest with herself. Yet, she couldn’t help checking her phone to see if he’d reached out. Lucas was the only person she’d been seriously interested in, besides Kylian. Maybe it wasn’t wise to give up on something good over a bad month or so. A tiny, insecure part of her told her she’d never find someone who liked her just as much as Lucas.

“Hi there” A deep voice cut through her thoughts. She looked up to see a very handsome face.

He stood tall in the dark blue tracksuit of the French national team, smiling at her broadly. She recognized him immediately.

“Hi” She responded shyly, having never spoken to Kylian’s national team teammates before.

“Saw you from over there” Aurelien Tchouameni pointed to the mini basketball court, where some other players were shooting hoops. “And you’re really pretty”

Straight to the point, then. Ethan snorted from across the table.

“Uh.. thanks” She said nervously. “I have a boyfriend though”

Aurelien glanced at Ethan, then at her. Realization dawned on his face, and he held up his hands apologetically. “Oh, you’re Y/N! I should’ve realized… So you and Kylian finally got together, huh?”

“W-What?” She blabbered. Ethan was now laughing. “No, we’re not dating. Just friends”

“Oh” Aurelien said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Sorry. It’s just that he always talks about you”

“Really?”

“Yeah, whenever we talk about shows and music and stuff, he’s always like Y/N recommended this, Y/N said that”

“Yeah, he basically stole my entire personality” She deadpanned, trying to feel less awkward.

He laughed, nodding in agreement. “Well, you guys have fun. And sorry about that, I just had to shoot my shot”

He winked and walked away as quickly as he’d appeared.

She turned to Ethan, who was no doubt opening his mouth to tease her. She held up her hand. “Don’t even”

Y/N unloaded the contents of her tote bag on the bed, spilling out every type of candy Kylian had ever enjoyed. She turned to him, smiling proudly. “There you go, Monsieur”

Kylian’s eyes lit up as he grabbed a bag of M&Ms and tore it open. “Thank you” he said with a dimpled grin.

He’d texted her the day before asking her to grab him some candy, and she was happy to oblige. Kylian was the most disciplined person she’d ever met, but everyone deserves a cheat day—especially someone who’d made it to his second World Cup final at 23. She’d waited until they were alone in his room to give him the treats, careful to not be seen by any of the coaching staff.

She leaned back on her chair and opened her phone, once again checking for new messages.

“Stop that” Kylian scolded.

“Stop what?” She asked innocently.

“I know what you’re doing” he said. “I can’t believe you’re the one who’s hung up on him while he’s the asshole. It should be the other way around”

“I’m not hung up on him” She said, flustered. “I’m just…”

“You’re checking your phone every 5 minutes” He cut in. “You deserve someone who gives you their full attention and consideration, you know”

And why can’t that person be you?

The door burst open and Ethan walked in, his eyes immediately landing on all the candy.

“I knew it!” He pointed at her, accusatorial. “I knew it was for him”

She shrugged apologetically.

Ethan happily opened a bag of Haribos, and turned to his brother, a mischievous look on his face. “Did she tell you about Tchouameni?”

“What about him?” Kylian responded absentmindedly, his attention on his phone.

“He hit on her” Ethan said grinning “And then when he found out who she was he said he thought you two were dating”

An idea unfurled in Y/N’s head. “He’s so hot” she said. “Maybe I should ask for his number. Might as well, right? Since Lucas and I are basically done…”

“No” Kylian’s voice rose slightly. “No, don’t do that.”

“Why not?” She asked “You just said I deserve someone who gives me attention. Aurelien seems like the type”

He was fidgeting now, irritation clearly written on his face. “Athletes are assholes, haven’t you heard that before? Also, it would be weird for you to date my teammate”

“Are you saying you’re an asshole?” She asked

“No, but.. Just trust me” He turned his attention back to his phone, clearly uncomfortable.

Y/N wasn’t much of a football fan, but she knew that the match she just witnessed was one of the best ever played. The highs and lows, the split second moments that changed the trajectory of the whole game, the sheer unpredictability of the whole thing. Every single movement made by the players felt like the tipping point. The atmosphere inside the stadium was electric, a living, breathing entity fueled by the passion and excitement of the fans watching. By the time the Argentinian player had kicked the final penalty to seal his country’s win, she was overwhelmed by a deep feeling of sadness. So much so, that she felt tears prick her eyes. She looked down at Kylian, only a small figure from her seat in the stands. His shoulder was slumped, his entire body deflated. He had given his all, and yet he had lost. Teammates and coaching staff alike kept coming up to him to comfort him. She desperately wanted to go over to him, to hold him, but she knew she couldn’t enter the pitch until after the medal ceremony.

She saw him and his teammates retreat into the tunnels just as Messi lifted up the World Cup to the cheer of thousands. She turned to his family and friends, with whom she’d been cheering in elation at Kylian’s equalizing goal just a few minutes ago.

“Go” his father urged her “The only person he’d want to see right now is you”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She weaved her way through the stadium, flashing her VIP access lanyard when met with security, and asking for directions once or twice. She passed through the final set of security before finding herself outside the French team’s locker rooms. She informed the guard outside who she was looking for. He went inside, and moments later, came back out with Kylian.

Her heart nearly shattered at the sight of him. He kept his head down, but she could see his eyes were bloodshot. Without a word, she wrapped him in a tight hug, feeling him shake silently in her embrace. She had never seen Kylian cry before.

“Hey” she murmured softly. “It’s okay”

He buried his face in her shoulder, his breath hitching with each silent sob. Her own tears slipped down her cheeks. He gently let go a few moments later, and they sat down on the floor, leaning against the hallway wall.

“I thought we had it” He said, his voice cracking.

“ I know you did” She said gently, wiping a tear falling down his cheeks. “ You gave your everything. Sometimes it just comes down to luck, Ky. There’s nothing you can do about it” She took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

Kylian nodded, but she knew he didn’t believe her. Knowing him, this night would haunt him for a long time.

“Thank you for being here” His voice was steadier now. He leaned his head on her shoulder.

“Always” She whispered.

They sat there for some minutes, watching the hallway slowly become filled with the families of the other players. Her heart warmed at the sight of Griezmann’s daughters comforting their father. Her thumb was slowly caressing the back of Kylian’s hand. Turning slowly, she kissed his forehead. She wondered if they looked like a couple just then, with their hands joined in her lap and her lips on his forehead.

It was 2 days after that disappointing night in Qatar, and two nights since Y/N had been unceremoniously dumped over the phone.

The weight of the defeat had lingered that night, sucking the energy out of everyone. By the time Y/N and the Mbappes returned to the hotel, the atmosphere was thick with sadness and disappointment. She’d gotten the call just as she’d walked into her hotel room. Lucas’ voice had been calm and detached as he’d delivered the news she had dreaded: their relationship was over. The entire conversation was a blur, but there were bits and pieces that stung so much it still echoed in her head. “ I don’t feel that connection anymore” to “I’m clearly second choice here” and “you’ve been lying to yourself all this time”. She’d cried herself to sleep, overwhelmed by a storm of heartache and confusion.

She had planned to go straight to Madrid after the final but decided to hide out with her parents in Paris for a couple days. It was now the 20th, Kylian’s birthday. She hadn’t spoken to him since coming back to Paris, caught up in her own heartbreak, but she’d received an invitation for a birthday dinner via his assistant. It took everything in her to drag herself out of bed and to get ready.

The restaurant was one of the most famous in Paris, and Kylian’s personal favorite. He’d reserved the entire space for his friends and family. It was cozy, with dimmed lights and ambient music blending in with the chatter of the guests. A single long table stretched across the room, dotted with candlelight.

As Y/N made her way through the room, she greeted everyone – Kylian’s parents, his brothers, his closest teammates, his close friends, and other acquaintances. To her embarrassment, she’d been the last guest to arrive. His assistant guided her to the only open seat left, right next to Kylian.

“No one wants to sit next to the birthday boy?” She quipped as she took her place.

“Was saving it for you” He replied. He looked handsome in a blue Dior sweater and black denim jeans. His tan from Qatar was already fading, and he had a small smile playing on his face. They chatted for a bit, asking each other about their respective heartbreaks, before becoming engrossed in the lively conversations surrounding them.

At one point, they caught each other’s eyes. The candlelight was casting strange shadows on his face. She smiled at him, and without thinking, poked at one of his dimples. “I’m really glad you were born, by the way”

“ I know” His eyes sparkled with amusement. His arm was draped casually over the back of her chair, their faces close. He gently tugged at a single braid of her hair with his other hand and murmured, “I like your hair like this. It’s new right?”

It was indeed new. She’d decided to try boho braids for the first time.

You deserve someone who gives you their full attention and consideration, you know.

Someone cleared their throat, and they sprung apart. It was the waitstaff, ready to serve appetizers. They spoke sparingly as they ate. Kylian, the menace that he was, kept reaching for bites from her plate. She elbowed him whenever he did, but she didn’t hesitate to steal from his plate as well.

After everyone had eaten and all the food was cleared, a huge cake with 24 individual candles was brought out. She made sure to take a video of Kylian smiling as everyone sang Joyeux Anniversaire, giggling at how awkward he looked.

“Make a wish first!” Someone called just as he was about to blow out the candles.

He paused, his gaze locking with Y/N’s over her phone screen as he playfully pointed a finger at her. He continued blowing out his candles, never breaking eye contact with her. A chorus of laughter came from the guests at his antics, and Y/N felt her face burn as she put down her phone.

“He’s so down bad for her…” She could hear Tchaga snigger. Another ripple of laughter broke out from the guests at his comment. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her at that moment.

The laughter and celebration gradually tapered off after some time, and Y/N and some other friends were invited by Kylian to his apartment for some drinks. He had training the next day and didn’t want to do some heavy clubbing.

The sound of easy laughter and the clinking of glasses filled Kylian’s apartment. Y/N and Kylian were sitting on the couch in his living room, their bodies close together despite them being the only occupants. They were reminiscing about the time Kylian had tried to convince her to play in a school tournament. There was a rule that the teams had to be mixed, and not a lot of girls wanted to play. He’d begged Y/N to join, and she’d reluctantly accepted on the condition that he’d buy her a teddy bear if they won. They were playing for a plastic trophy that cost 2 euros, yet Kylian treated it like it was life or death. They won, and Y/N got her teddy bear.

“I still have that teddy bear, you know” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. It’s probably my favorite gift I’ve ever received”

He hummed, clearly pleased. She didn’t know when and how, but her leg was slung over his. His hand was on her, his fingers softly tracing lines up and down her calf.

“So, I’m your birthday wish huh?” She knew she wouldn’t be bold enough to say those words any other time, but here they were. The physical proximity was like a promise of something greater happening.

“Yup” He met her eyes confidently, his eyes shining.

“Maybe you should’ve started small though. Like a kiss?” She tried her best to sound flirtatious.

He laughed, “Ok. Let me redo the wish”

He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, a small smile still playing on his lips. He put his palms together as if in prayer and said in a deep, affected voice, “ Dear Universe, for my 24th birthday, I wish to receive a kiss from Y/N”

Without skipping a beat, she leaned in and slanted her lips over his. She could feel his breath hitch, like he hadn’t expected her to do that. It hardly took a second for him to kiss back though. It was slow, sensual. Tender and exploratory. His tongue brushed her lips before slipping inside, and she welcomed him with a soft sigh. The hand that had been on her calf quickly moved to her hips, and his other hand gently cupped her face. Her stomach was a puddle, and she was glad that they were sitting down because she was sure her knees would’ve given out if they were standing. The kiss deepened and went on and on and on, until they had to break away for air. He looked dazed, his lips glistening from her shiny lipgloss.

He quickly put his lips back on her, but Y/N pulled away.

She pressed her lips over his ear and murmured, “You need to tell everyone to leave. Now”

Kylian quickly waved Tchaga over and whispered in his ear urgently. Y/N didn’t feel a trace of shame when Tchaga shot her a knowing, teasing look. She was just happy that he was making quick work of announcing that the party was over and ushering everyone out of Kylian’s apartment.

No sooner had the apartment emptied and the door slammed behind Tchaga that she climbed his lap. She was able to get one sloppy kiss in before Kylian pulled away breathlessly. “We need to get to my room”

And so he hoisted her up and effortlessly walked them all the way up the stairs and into his bedroom. They kissed fiercely as he gently put her down on his bed. Kylian scrambled out of his sweater as she unbuttoned her shirt. He helped her out of her skirt and then her tights.

She rolled over and climbed on top of him, finding him as ready as she was. Lustful brown eyes stared openly at her pale pink underwear. “Do you have?” She asked frantically.

“Yeah, in the drawer”

She leaned sideways, stretching her body to reach the bedside drawer. She found the box pretty easily and grabbed one from it. He was still staring at her hungrily. With shaking hands, she unhooked her bra and took it off.

He kissed her neck, her breasts, her stomach. Her hands caressed his biceps, his chest, his torso. This was years of desire she’d harbored, finally unleashed. His mouth brushed over her lower torso before his fingers deftly removed the last remaining piece of clothing on her body. She unbuckled his belt buckle and removed his jeans and boxers at the same time. His breathing was shallow and rapid as she ripped the foil open and rolled it on him. She lowered herself onto him slowly, and they both gasped.

They were chest to chest, their hearts drumming together. They moved together in a steady rhythm, watching each other, checking in on each other with their eyes. Is this okay? How about this? And this?

She wanted him closer, deeper. It was never enough. They breathed into each other's mouths, tongues meeting sloppily. Breaking apart, their foreheads met. Their eyes said a million little things at once. Time and space had no meaning anymore for Y/N. There was only Kylian.

* **************

It turned out that if you’d wanted something badly for a very long time, and then you finally got that thing, it didn’t necessarily mean that you'll have enough of that thing. Sometimes, it could leave you wanting more and more. Case in point: Y/N.

They woke up midday with bodies hot and sweaty and limbs tangled together in the sheets. They had laid there for an hour or so, kissing languidly. He somehow already knew what she liked, the moves that made her moan and gasp.

“I could do this forever” he’d murmured as his lips softly trailed after hers. But his alarm rang out just then, a stark reminder of real life. They both sighed reluctantly as they pulled away. He had to get up and get ready for his afternoon training.

She laid there, silently watching him get dressed. She was mesmerized by every movement of his beautiful, lean yet muscular body. Her own personal Adonis. It was a wonder she’d been able to keep her hands off him. He caught her looking at him and smirked, winking at her. She just rolled her eyes.

Once he’d gotten ready and packed his bag, he came over to her on the bed and showered her face with affectionate kisses. “I’ll come back in the evening. Feel free to just chill here.” He said between kisses on her forehead, lips, cheeks, chin. “I’ll leave a spare key by the door though”

She nodded happily, giving him one last tender kiss. He stepped out, and she was left to bask in the lingering warmth of his affection. Her mind replayed the memories of the night before, and she felt like the happiest person alive. Now that she got a taste of him, she wanted more of him. As if on cue, her phone pinged with a text.

Ky: I miss you already 🙁

She giggled, quickly typing out a I miss you tooo before getting up and hopping in the shower. It was only when she got out that she realized she didn’t have a change of clothes, and unless she wanted to walk into her parents apartment dressed the same way she’d left it yesterday, she needed to put on something else. She walked into Kylian’s closet and grabbed the nearest T-shirt and sweatpants, as well as some slippers. She quickly snapped a mirror pic after changing and sent it to Kylian, typing heading to my parents for a bit.

The reply was almost instant.

Ky: 😍 😍

Ky: don’t forget to grab stuff you need.

She smiled, loving the implication she’d spend the night again. At her parents, she grabbed Kylian’s gift that she’d forgotten to take with her the night before, as well as a change of clothes. She came back to Kylian’s place and answered work emails and completed other miscellaneous tasks concerning her job.

He was back in the early evening, just as promised. The passion of the night before had faded and the afterglow of the morning had subsided, meaning there was nothing to embolden either of them. Thus, they treaded lightly around each other. Their looks were furtive, their touches tentative. Kylian, the least shy person she’d ever met, had somehow turned uncharacteristically quiet. Yet, they were both undeniably giddy. She could see it in the way he broke into an inexplicable smile whenever he caught her eye during dinner, and in the way she was in the best mood she’d been in for a long time.

This illusion of coyness evaporated as they settled on the couch after dinner, Kylian turning on a tactical video the PSG staff had instructed him to view. The video was on for less than 2 minutes before their focus shifted entirely and they began to make out.

“You’re too distracting,” he said between kisses as she giggled.

“Yeah?”

His lips shifted to her neck. “I think kissing you is my favorite thing to do”

He was biting there, sure to leave a mark.

“Well second favorite” he corrected himself.

She took off her T-shirt and straddled him. He continued, his hands softly gripping her waist “Second place is kissing you. First place is obviously playing football—”

He was momentarily interrupted as she took his own T-shirt off. “—tied with fucking you”

His shit eating grin was the last thing she saw before he flipped her over and sent her sprawling comfortably on the cushions.

It was unfortunate that they had a game on new year’s eve, but Y/N liked the ambiance at the Parc des Princes. The stadium was buzzing with a special, festive energy for Kylian’s first match after the World Cup final. She was seated in the VIP section along with his parents, brother, and Tchaga and had jumped up and down when Kylian scored the last minute winner. He’d never say it, but she knew he needed that confidence boost.

In the past week, she’d gotten to know a completely different part of him – one her lovesick teenage self could only have dreamed of, and that her more cynical young adult self had never thought she’d experience.

For example, she’d always known that he loved taking care of his loved ones, but she hadn’t spent a single dime during her stay with him. Any purchases she thought of making, he insisted on paying for. He’d even surprised her with a package containing everything from her wishlist after he saw her browsing her favorite store online. His generosity extended to small things like sharing food (which he was notoriously known for disliking), and thoughtful gestures like arranging a work space for her in one of his spare rooms. He endearingly loved using pet names, alternating between “bébé” and “chérie”, and her heart did somersaults when she heard him use those in everyday conversation.

She learned intimate details too, thanks to their newfound physical closeness. The birthmark on his lower back that she loved pressing kisses to. How scratching his head would put him to sleep almost instantly. She learned about his preferences as well; he was most definitely an ass man – it was evident by the way he never passed up a chance to feel her up when they were by themselves. Now, she committed everything she learned to memory, seeing Kylian in hues she never thought existed.

The days after his birthday were perfect to her, it felt like she was living a dream. Lucas and Madrid were so far from her mind that it was as if the break up had happened a year ago. The person she’d been pining after for ages seemingly liked her back. She was at her happiest.

There was one issue that gnawed at her, however. It bothered her that they had never spoken about what they were, or where their relationship was heading. She’d thought that the fact they had slept together was a mutual admission of serious feelings, that they had an unspoken agreement. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more she realized they hadn’t actually talked about it. The first two days or so, she’d been on cloud 9, swept away by the euphoria of it all. But now, as reality set it, it was torturing her.

A buzz of excitement filled the VIP lounge as a small crowd gathered around the entrance. She suspected it was Kylian and his entourage; he’d promised to come up to the lounge after the game. Sure enough, in walked Kylian’s bodyguards, followed closely by the man of the match himself.

He made the rounds first, meeting all the important people in the room, taking pictures and making small talk. He finally made his way to his family and friends. He came to Y/N last, and there was an awkward shuffle when he went in for a peck on the lips as a greeting, and Y/N instinctively aimed for his cheek. They laughed it off, and she gave him the kiss he’d wanted. Ethan let out a loud “ew!”, and Y/N flushed, looking at the ground. So far, none of their family and friends had had visible reactions to the recent developments in their relationship. No one had said anything when they’d shown up holding hands at Kylian's family Christmas party a week ago; it was almost like they expected it, as if they believed this was the natural culmination of Y/N and Kylian’s 10+ years long friendship and not an unexpected turn of events.

“ I have something for you” she murmured after it was just the two of them speaking, indicating a small gift bag she was holding.

He raised his eyebrows. “Oooh. What’s in there?”

“It's your birthday gift” She said as she handed it to him. “I was supposed to bring it to dinner but I forgot. I brought it to your apartment the next day but it slipped my mind again”

“And here I was thinking my gift was the mind blowing sex” He said grinning.

She shoved him playfully, rolling her eyes. As he reached to open the bag, her stomach started fluttering.

Someone slid up to him just then, whispering in his ear.

“ Give me one second, I’ll be back” he said apologetically as he dropped the bag on the nearest table and was whisked away, no doubt to meet some other important person that was there to see him.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. The gift was a scrapbook she’d made herself, chronicling their long friendship. She’d hoped it would help open up the conversation about their current situation.

“Fancy a drink?”

It was one of the waiters, holding a tray of colorful looking drinks. She graciously took one.

“New here? I’m never seen you in the lounge before”

He seemed polite enough. “Uh, yes. I’m here with…my boyfriend” She tested the word on her lips, her eyes on Kylian across the room.

The waiter followed her gaze and snorted. “He has a girlfriend? I’d sooner believe Macron quit the presidency to be a mime”

He blanched as soon as he realized she was serious. “I- I meant-”

“What?”

He looked at the ground. “He just- I see a different model every other week here. They're almost always his guests”

She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it. “Look, just forget I said anything. It’s not my place.” He looked at her pleadingly. “Please don’t get me fired”

He scurried off before she could say anything.

She glanced at her gift bag, left forgotten on the table. He was now taking pictures with a group of older people. Her eyes started to well up, and she walked out of the room. She kept going until she found herself outside, ordering an Uber. She sent him a text as she got in the car:

Y/N: going home to deal with some stuff, think I’ll spend the night there

She closed her eyes, tears now sliding down her cheeks.

She barely slept that night, spending hours on her phone looking up the many women Kylian had been linked with. She went through their instagrams, her mind treacherously comparing each one to herself, as if she could measure her worth against their curated, seemingly perfect lives. She came across photos of Kylian on yachts, laughing with bikini-clad blondes. The comments on the photos only twisted the knife deeper – some criticized him as a “playboy” , while others mocked him with a dismissive “typical footballer”. Each photo was like a dagger to her heart.

But it was the final blow that left her breathless: blurry photos of Kylian leaving a club with a girl, taken just a month ago, in November. It was that recent. It all made sense now, why he’d never made an effort to have a serious conversation about their relationship. He liked his current lifestyle, focusing completely on football while indulging in a fleeting series of flings from time to time. She was nothing special, just another name on the long list of women he entertained.

What shattered her the most was that he had no consideration for their friendship, that he could throw it away just like that for some sex. He had traded something she deeply cherished for something else he considered transient, meaningless.

By the time dawn broke and the first light filtered through her curtains, she was resolute. Dragging herself out of bed, she made her way to the kitchen and was shocked to find her parents sitting and laughing with Kylian.

His face brightened as soon as he saw her. “Morning chérie” he greeted, the pet name failing to make her stomach flutter this time.

“Dropped by to check on you” he continued. “You weren’t answering my texts”

It was intentional, of course. Seeing the tired look on her face, her parents moved out of the kitchen to give them privacy. She sat down beside him slowly, and his face twisted into concern.

“Is everything ok?” He went to grab her hand but she snatched it away quickly. She didn’t miss the hurt look on his face.

“I- uh. I’m ok” She didn’t know how to approach the conversation. “Did you finally open my gift?”

"What? Your gi- oh. Yeah. I did” She could clearly see through the lie.

“Kylian” She warned, her tone sharp.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot. But it still has to be there though, no one will take it”

“What the fuck, Kylian?” her voice rose, frustration spilling over. “You didn’t even take it home with you?”

He frantically reached for his phone. “I’ll call and get someone at the club to look for it. I’ll get it back, I promise”

She snatched the phone out of his hand, her eyes blazing “I spent a lot of time on it. I can’t believe you did that, it's like you don’t even care”

He looked at her earnestly. “You know I care, I care about you a lot”

“Is that what you say to every girl you sleep with?” She couldn’t help it.

“What?” He looked at her incredulously. “ No. This is different. You’ve always been different”

“I find that hard to believe, Kylian” She muttered, her voice quivering.

“Why?” He challenged her, his confusion mingled with frustration. “Why would you think that?”

“Because” her tears spilled over “You’ve been uncommitted forever”

“Well maybe that’s because the one person I would’ve liked to be committed to was in another country, wasting her time on some asshole”

“Then why not now?” She spoke through tears. “I’ve been sleeping in your bed for a while now, Ky.”

“I was trying to give you time” His voice shook. “You broke up with that idiot literally 3 days before we hooked up. I thought you weren’t ready”

He looked at her pleadingly, his eyes desperate.

“I don’t know, Kylian” She laughed bitterly. “you said it yourself, don’t trust athletes”

She saw a tear falling down his cheek, and she was struck by the sight. She never thought the second time she’d see him cry, it would be because of her.

She weighed the possibility of making it work – a long distance relationship, with her in Madrid and him in Paris. They’d see each other infrequently, her being tied to Madrid with work and him to Paris by the relentless demands of football. They’d miss birthdays, anniversaries. She’d never be able to take him to an office Christmas party. Maybe she’d be able to go with him to things that mattered to him, like award ceremonies, but only because his career would take precedence over hers. She’d hear whispers about his potential infidelities, but she wouldn’t say anything. Until the resentment feels so suffocating it bubbles up, and she’d have no choice but to end it. It would happen, whether months away or years down the line. And then they’d have to cut each other off forever. She didn’t want that. She loved him too much. She’d rather have some of him than nothing at all. Perhaps if she ended it now, their friendship could be salvaged.

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kylian. I don’t think… I don’t think we should do this anymore”

They sat there silently for a few seconds. Then she heard a sniffle, and then the sound of his chair scraping as he got up. She heard footsteps retreating, and then the sound of the apartment door open and slam shut. Only then did she let herself fall apart.

Her mother hurried into the room, looking very alarmed. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Maman” she choked out between sobs. “I need to book a flight back to Madrid”

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chellestrash · 1 year ago

Text

Please, Mr. Ghost Face

Frank Castle x F!Reader Halloween Special (18+)

Warnings: explicit language, explicit smut, semi-public, unprotected sex, roughy sex, brat! reader, frank being kinda bitchy, oral (f!receiving) knife play, mention of blood play, teasing.

Summary: look at the title, look at the warnings, you know what it is, enjoy!!

Word count: 7.2k

AN: Oh my god okay, thank you @chelseasdagger and @suitsofwo3 for getting me to actually finish writing this (i literally felt like i was loosing my god damn mind trying to push through). I dont know why it turned out so long I dont normaly write things that are over 3k so this...yeah I really hope at least some of you will enjoy. I love reading your thoughs and feedback on my fic so please, feel free to share them. Reblogs are very appriciated as always :) HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

You're not sure how Frank managed to get his entire Halloween costume ready before you finished the few quick fixes to your makeup. Even considering the fact that it took you around an hour to get the whole look together, and he repeatedly told you no matter when he started getting ready, he'd still be finished before you. He was right. Was it annoying? Slightly, yes, but for once, him being right was actually a good thing since you were already late to a house party one of your friends decided to throw at the end of the week once most of you were finally done with work.

You fix up your lipstick and try the fake fangs on one more time before messing with your hair a bit and taking a couple steps back to check the outfit out in the mirror. Nothing too creative, just a simple well-fitted black dress, slightly shorter than what you'd usually wear, a couple of bright red details and some silver jewelry. A last minute vampire, sure, it'll do.

You straighten up the fabric and look up and down at your reflection one more time.

“Right, I think I'm ready!”

You raise your voice, making sure he’d hear you, before grabbing the last few things and turning to the door.

“So, what did you decide to go as?”

You shout again, curious about how much effort he decided to put into the whole thing this year. Halloween wasn't necessarily a holiday Frank enjoyed, but he'd do this and that occasionally just to make you happy.

“Did you figure it out?”

Another question since he didn't answer the previous one. You step out of the room, digging through your small bag in search of your phone before you walk directly into your boyfriend’s chest.

“Shit, sorry.”

You mumble and Frank grabs your arm, helping you regain the balance before you end up with your ass on the wooden floor.

“Christ, easy, 'you okay?”

Frank’s deep, groggy voice rumbles through your body, and you take a moment to fix up the dress before finally tracing your eyes up his body. You bite the inside of your cheek and it feels like the words get stuck in your throat before you can answer him.

Frank stands in front of you with his usual outfit on. Combat boots, the ones you rarely see him out of, one of the dark gray, now slightly worn off jeans, and a black tank top, his heavy, deep navy blue jacket already in his hand. The reason for your reaction doesn't have anything to do with his exceptionally ordinary choice of clothing, but rather with a thing you're not used to seeing on him.

The basic Ghost Face mask from Scream covering his face makes it rather difficult to focus on… really anything else. The loose black cloth falls onto his exposed shoulders, covering part of his neck, and you catch yourself staring at him and his body for probably slightly longer than necessary.

“Oh, fuck.”

You finally manage to get out a couple of words, and Frank lets go of your arm.

“Think it'll do?”

You catch his question this time but keep your eyes fixed on the mask as his voice flows from underneath the fabric.

“Shit, yeah, yeah it’ll do alright.”

You lean back on the nearest wall, looking over his figure from head to toe once again.

“Shit, Frank, where did you even find that?”

“Corner shop.”

He shrugs and takes a step in your direction after a moment. You feel your back pushing against the door frame, a familiar warm feeling growing between your legs when his frame grows bigger in your field of view. His shoulders and chest, slightly exposed by the tight tank top, the fabric clearly struggling some right above his sternum. You catch the corner of your lips pulling up in a confident smirk once you finally take in the whole picture.

The dark, empty eyes of the mask pierce through your own for a moment and you cross your legs nonchalantly before Frank finally reaches up to get rid of the cheap Halloween costume.

Quickly grabbing his wrist, you stop him before he’s able to pull the mask off of his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, his sudden confusion expressed by the pose.

“What?”

The question, slightly muffled by the dark fabric, only amplifies the smirk already present on your face. You grin happily at the Ghost Face character right in front of you, somehow feeling like he already knows the answer to his question.

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re into that.”

Shaking his head, he tries again but you interrupt the action one more time.

“Oh boohoo, and what if I was?”

You tease. Your impatient hands linger over his body, fingers rubbing over the fabric of both his shirt and jeans. Hooking your hand over the waistband of the jeans, you pull yourself up, pushing off of the wall and leaning forward towards him, rubbing your leg up his own slowly. The fabric of the dress slides off of you slightly, exposing a decent amount of skin. Guiding Frank's hand to the back of your body, you arch your back slightly, pushing your ass into his palm, humming satisfied once you feel his tight grip through the dress. Frank's chest expands with a loud sigh, the space between your bodies closing almost completely now. He watches you carefully; every move, every tease, every little movement you plan out carefully, seemingly only to get a desired reaction out of him.

“What if I was, Mister Ghost Face?”

Your purr, biting down on your lower lip, your hand now pressed against his chest as you gently drag your nails over the fabric. Frank grunts, the harsher touch clearly getting to him now, and you fight back some smart ass comment your brain so kindly decided to equip you with. Instead, you drop your hand to your thigh under the slit at the side of the skirt. Pulling the fabric back, you let a glimpse of the bright red underwear peek from underneath the costume. Frank finally breaks once you glare up at him suggestively.

“Mmmmm, fuck.”

He groans from behind the mask, gripping your ass firmly before pulling you onto himself, your leg hooked loosely behind his. Slipping his hand under the fabric of the dress, he digs his fingers into your flesh and you part your lips, letting out a satisfied moan in return.

“‘M not fucking you with the mask on, kid.”

Way to kill the mood. You think, but bite your tongue just in time, not willing to give up on the idea just yet. You can't help it. To be completely honest, it feels like his fault. You didn’t make him look this good in the costume, well, part of it, you never anticipated he’d pick out this exact one either. The fact that it was able to get these reactions from you and your body? Yeah, seems like you’re innocent. Gliding your hand between his legs, you drag your nails over the bulge before spreading your fingers apart, cupping the whole of it in your palm.

Frank grunts and the previously present smirk makes its way back onto your face, you don’t even try to act innocent anymore.

Listening to his now heavier breathing, despite his not so thrilled demeanor, his heart picks up the pace slightly, the blood rushing down between his legs.

A faint twitch under the jean fabric corresponding with his fingers digging deeper into your thigh and you know he's focused now. He's listening.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

You push the weight of your body against his groin, and his hand finds its way up to your hair. Fingers tangle into your hair before he tugs on it firmly. Your head tilts up, and the Ghost Face mask finally comes off once you cannot delay the inevitable any longer.

He leans in closer, his warm breath brushes over your lips, and you fight back the cocky smirk, not entirely sure which one of you wanted to feel the other more at this moment.

His stern expression only strengthens once you reach your hand behind him. Your fingers brush over his ass and you watch how his jaw tightens, his eyes closing.

“Oh, there he is.”

You tease, and he almost snaps this time, inhaling deeply through his nose in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“You try that shit one more time-”

He starts. Leaning closer to your ear, his lips brushing over your neck.

“And we're gonna have a big problem, kid.”

“Oh.”

You whisper, grinding into his thigh slowly.

“Oh, are we? We gonna have a problem, Mister Ghost Face?”

Your lips almost brush over his now. Frank opens his mouth to talk back, ready to have you bent over and waiting for him, ready to make both of you feel good or, most importantly, ready to have you apologize for the whole god-damn mask thing.

You breathe out a quiet laugh at the frustrated expression on his face once the sound of your phone successfully distracts you from his attempts to intimidate you.

With his hand still under your dress, the other in your hair, his leg between yours and his body leaning down over you, you answer the phone. Speaking as if it was the most casual situation possible.

“Yeah? Oh, yeah, we're on our way, we'll be there in a bit. Yeah.”

Frank watches, flabbergasted, as you make up a little story about why the two haven't joined the rest yet. You smack his shoulder a couple of times, pushing away from him and taking a few steps into the direction of the front door.

“What?”

You ask once the phone call is over.

“You're the one who said it's not happening.”

***

You arrive at the party a good while after it began. The house feels pretty crowded, the music is way louder than necessary, and you're pretty certain you're able to pick up the smell of both alcohol and cigarettes from the other side of the street. It honestly feels like one of those weekend college parties that used to always leave you with a two day long hangover a couple of years back. You shiver from a gust of the cold night wind and look over at your boyfriend while pulling the jacket close around your body. Frank looks unimpressed with that really significant frown on his face, not looking forward to spending the rest of the night in a small, crowded place with a bunch of people he didn't want to have to deal with.

“Oh, you’ll be fineee.”

Your oh so encouraging words earn you a stern look from him before he shakes his head with a deep sigh.

“Just go.”

You laugh and with his hand resting against your lower back, he pushes you towards the door, slipping on the movie accurate mask with a look of disapproval as you climb up the steps together.

“I’m throwing this thing out tomorrow.”

The muffled sound of his voice humors you, but you bite your tongue.

“Whatever you say, Frankie.”

***

This wasn’t Frank's idea, of course it wasn’t. He agreed to go to the party knowing how much you’d enjoy yourself but that was the only reason. The costumes weren’t even in the picture when you first asked him to join you, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to run around to different stores frantically trying to assemble a Halloween outfit. The mask was the first thing he saw after stepping into that corner store earlier in the day. He didn’t pay it much thought earlier, but now? After you made it blatantly obvious how much you enjoyed the whole thing, well… he struggled to get through one conversation without his thoughts slipping back to what happened before you two left your place.

You weren’t any better. Even when you split to catch up with different groups of friends after you stepped into the house, you found yourself constantly scanning the room in search of either his face, the mask, or his back. Catching his glance from across the room, you smile, raising the bottle of beer in your hand up. He does the same, but the gentle smile on his lips wears off the second you gesture for him to pull the mask back down. Frank rolls his eyes, shaking his head, before continuing his conversation with some guy you managed to interrupt.

You could try to focus on other things, on the drinks, the music, the stories shared between your friends. You could…but you can’t. There’s no use in trying when your eyes keep searching for Frank every other moment and your mind keeps slipping into places you’d rather not discuss in a room full of people.

With that in mind, you make it your mission to tease Frank through the evening and really see how hard you can make this get to him.

It starts slow: some gentle touches as you pass him by here and there, pushing your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as you two try to hold a conversation with another person, sitting in his lap when some of the people move to sit outside, and most importantly encouraging him to keep the mask on. It’s a costume party, after all.

He catches on when you two are in the kitchen and you obnoxiously brush your ass against his cock while squeezing past him to grab another beer from the fridge.

He grunts, his fingers quickly wrapping around your arm, and he glares into your eyes, silently warning you, possibly hoping it would somehow get you to behave. It doesn’t. You shoot him a quick smirk, waving at one of your friends wearing an angel costume when she walks into the kitchen.

“We’re doing a group photo in the living room!”

She announces excitedly, and you grin, immediately matching her energy.

“Are we showing our costumes off?”

Frank's fingers loosen the grip around you, and you step away from him without hesitation, taking your friend's hand while she answers your question.

“Yeah! We're trying to get everyone in!”

“Oh, fun!”

Walking by her side, you step out of the kitchen, turning back for just a moment.

“You heard that, Frankie? Costumes!!”

***

Back in the living room, you all gather together to attempt the impossible task of fitting every single person at the party into one photo together. Frank joins everyone a bit after you, walking in your direction as you all begin to take your somewhat assigned places.

“Hi.”

You start innocently, standing on your toes, to press a quick kiss to the side of his face. Frank nods in response, cautious of your tricks. Standing behind you to make you more visible in the photo, he wraps his arm around your chest, and you quickly grab onto his forearm. Glancing back over your shoulder, you quickly point out the obvious.

“You gotta put the mask on.”

“Mind your business, yeah?”

He murmurs, and you breathe out a quiet laugh, not looking away even for a second while he pulls the dark fabric and white mask over his face. You take a deep breath in, and the corner of your lips pull up in a satisfied smirk.

“Frankie-“

You start, the gentle heat between your legs returning since he put the mask on for the first time, now more prominent as he stares down at you once again.

“Leave it.”

He orders in a harsh whisper and with his hand on the back of your neck, he makes you face the camera. Your body takes over your brain and when everyone poses for the photo and his hand slides to your lower back, you push your ass out and press it against his bulge. His grunt, muffled by the mask and the constant noise of the party, slips from under the mask and his hands find your hips faster than you realize it was happening. His fingers dig into your thighs, so hard you know it'll leave bruises. He holds you still, knowing god-damn well if he lets go you'll repeat exactly what you just did.

There's a flash of the phone, and once the photo is taken he lets go of your body immediately. You make up your mind, deciding to risk it. Pushing past a few groups of people that begin to form around the living room, you excuse yourself, glancing back at Frank to make sure he's watching before you disappear behind the corner. You make your way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't lock it. You know he won't let that whole thing slip. No more than five minutes pass before he decides to join you.

“Took you long enough.”

You point out and push yourself off the edge of the bathtub, standing up before taking a couple steps in his direction. Frank shuts the door closed and turns back to face you.

“Oh, you wanted me to just walk after you, huh? Make it real obvious?”

He takes a step closer to you, his chest almost rubbing against yours when he looks down.

“No one would give a shit, Frank, everyone's drunk. We could fuck with the door wide open and they wouldn't notice.”

“Stop.”

His voice harsh with the warning.

“Why?”

You push without hesitation or any intention of stopping.

“That get you too much, huh? Bet you'd like that, Frankie, hmm?”

Frank's body tenses up at your attempt to tease him. He stands up straighter, taller, and his shoulders stiffen, his chest rising when he breathes heavily under the mask. His hand balls up into a tight fist as he pushes back the frustration, trying not to hand you exactly what you want from him out on a plate.

“You just don't ever shut up, do you?”

You breathe out a quiet laugh, shaking your head slowly before you stand up on your tiptoes. Staying at eye level with the mask now, you squint, trying to see through the sheer fabric in the eyeholes.

“Oh I do. I can shut up but you don't like that, do you?”

You whisper. The muscles in his neck tensing when his jaw tightens and he shakes his head slowly.

“Yeah, okay, how ‘bout you try for once. Might do you some good.”

“Yeah?”

You whisper again, your hand now rubbing over the center of his chest, feeling the heat under his shirt.

“Make me.”

The words slip past the big smirk on your face and you decide now is the time. Sliding your hand down his body, you brush over the bulge in his jeans. Not giving him time to react, you grip his cock tightly through the thick fabric. With that, you watch whatever was left of Frank's composure crumble away.

There's a moment of silence where his fingers wrap around your wrist. His grip is tight and he holds it in place. You glance down, watching his hand for a moment, before squeezing him once again.

“F-”

He grunts, yanking your hand away with so much force you couldn't possibly even try to fight it back.

“That's it.”

Immediately, you feel his body pushing into yours once he shoves you back against the bathroom counter. Your lips part but you keep the moan back, wrapping your arms around his neck and biting into his exposed shoulder once you feel the porcelain digging into your lower body.

Breathing heavier under the plastic mask, he reaches down to the high slit on the side of your dress. His fingers push into your skin and drag up your thigh. Your breath rushes and your chest rises and falls faster now, the only indication, besides the elaborate banter and the teasing, of how much you've been thinking of this since getting to the party.

You hum loudly once his fingers brush over the hem of your underwear. Your hips push forward slightly in need of his touch once he tugs on the fabric to pull it down. You reach towards him, hands working the buckle of his belt open once the lace of your panties brushes down your calf. Frank reaches up, hand gripping the mask to finally pull it off, but you grab his wrist, stooping him once again.

There's a moment of silence when you both wait for the other to talk, the heat of your bodies radiating through the small bathroom. The pure lust for one another allows this to last only a few seconds.

“Keep it on.”

You request, knowing deep down that you can push him enough to actually have him fuck you with it on.

“Jesus fucking-”

Frank scoffs, pulling the mask off and looking away from you. He shakes his head, disapproving of whatever the hell you've been trying to get him involved in since the night started. He turns back to face you, his eyebrows pulled together, face in a frustrated frown.

“Seriously, this shit again?”

You roll your eyes with a frustrated sigh, hand on his chest as you push against his body, creating some distance between both of you.

“Could you just do one fucking thing without bitching about it so much? Like, is that too hard or?”

You push one more time, both the tone of your voice and the choice of words a lot harsher than before. You keep your gaze on his eyes, confidently staring him down after your annoyed statement, not letting go of this whole thing, not now, not with knowing how close you were.

Frank stands tall in front of you, jaw tight, teeth grinding against each other, and his chest pushes out with the breath he's been holding in his lungs. His eye twitches slightly before he looks off to the side. The bridge of his nose scrunches up when he inhales quickly, nodding once he finally turns back to face you again.

“Alright.”

He slowly pulls the mask back on.

“Your fucking call, sweetheart.”

Before there's time to react, he grabs your arm and shoves you against the sink, turning your body around in one swift motion, bending you over the counter and wrapping his fingers around your upper thigh.

“Your fucking call.”

His words travel down your body and between your legs, the excitement of getting what you wanted, followed by the thrill of the entire situation. The warmth between your legs grows once Frank pulls your ass back, kicking your legs open with his foot. You glance up, focusing on his reflection in the mirror in front of you.

The man towers over you, his shoulders broad and heavy, his chest in the dark tank top, his arm flexing when he holds your lower back down against the wood. The mask, fuck, the mask exposing the tense muscles in his neck, the whole sight taking over your senses, your mind and body.

His heavy hand rubs over your back, up and down a couple of times, before he pushes his palm under the fabric of your dress. Bunching it up, he pulls it over your ass and you can't help but push it out some more in search of his touch.

There's a loud scoff, and you see him shaking his head in the mirror.

“You know, you talk a lot of shit for how wet you are right now, sweetheart.”

He mocks you, pulling the black fabric up before pushing his fingers between your legs.

You whine out loud, closing your legs at the sudden touch but pull them apart again almost instantly.

“Yeah, s’ what I thought. You got a big mouth for-”

“Oh, shut up.”

You cut into his words and feel his fingers on the back of your neck. The grip tightens and he pulls you up, back into an upright position, your body now pressed against his chest. The reflection in the mirror makes your mouth part, but you bite into your lower lip, fighting back another moan. His figure looms over you, the mask ways up above your shoulder, his hand moving to the front of your neck. You feel yourself react to the sight in front of you, to the feeling of his fingers wrapping tighter around your neck, the warmth of his body so close behind you.

“What, you think I'm gonna say make me? Hmm?"

Pushing you back down on the counter, Frank steps closer to your body, his clearly hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Nah, that's your part. I don't do that shit.”

Taking your chance, you perk your ass up some, brushing over the warm spot between his legs. Frank grunts, closing his eyes for a moment before reaching down, pushing his pants open and then down slightly, pulling himself out of the black boxers.

Unable to win with your body this time, you slip up, letting out a moan once his cock springs out from under the dark fabric, stretched out over the large bulge up until this point.

There's a low chuckle from under the Ghost Face mask.

“That shit really gets you that bad?”

One of Frank's hands digs into your thigh, holding you close, the other wrapped tightly around his length.

You nod, making sure he catches the still confident expression on your face in the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, you've got no idea.”

You tease again and Frank moves his hand up to your shoulder blades. Pushing your body down against the counter, he clears his throat.

“Think I got some.”

He lines himself up, getting a few pumps in over his length before spreading you open with his free hand. He pushes inside slower than you'd have liked, pausing after the tip the second he feels how truly ready you are.

“You get off on these things, huh?”

He continues the questing, beginning to thrust into you, and you feel your body stretching to fit him in with every push. Your lips part as your mouth falls open before you bite into your lip, trying to muffle the sounds you're sure would otherwise fill the space of the small bathroom. You try to keep your head up, focusing on Frank's reflection. His body takes up most of your view. You focus on the mask, the low grunts coming from behind it, the feeling of his cock dragging inside of you, out of you and then pushing right back inside, and the feeling of him stretching you out that never goes away entirely.

“You want it fucking scary? Hmm? That'll do it for you?”

He keeps up the teasing, quick to point out every single reaction your body presents him with, and you finally decide to bite back.

You reach behind your back, hand on the front of his hip, tapping your palm against his body to get his attention. Pausing his movements for a moment, Frank watches your face in the mirror, giving you space to talk.

“Yeah, you got me.”

You grunt, cursing under your breath, once he decides to move his palm between your legs.

“You got me but-”

“Gotta speak up, sweetheart.”

He thinks he has you now.

“The mask isn't scary, It's just hot. You should try harder to reeeally get me."

The feeling of his fingers rubbing over your clit disappears immediately after you finish the sentence. He starts up again from behind, and you feel yourself clench around his cock once he moves inside you. You hum loudly, and Frank wraps his big hands around the sides of your body. Panting loudly with his cock still inside you, he tries to focus on your words, knowing, and being almost completely sure, of what you were asking for.

“You know what would help?”

You purr quietly, watching him in the mirror. Your confidence flows back to you once you notice him slightly stunted. The mask moves in the reflection, his eyes focus on your face from underneath the fabric, and you know he's now thinking about it too.

“Yeeeaah, I know you have it, Frankie.”

His grip on you tightens with your words.

“You don't leave the house without it. ‘Just in case’? Your words.”

It takes a moment, but after that moment he reaches behind his body without a word. There's hesitation and he pauses. The bathroom falls quiet and the only sound between your panting is the muffled noise of the party outside the bathroom door.

Slowly, Frank pulls out his black, military grade knife you've seen on him so many times before. The one he always insists on carrying with him, the one you knew he didn't leave at the house tonight.

“Ohhh that's it, Frankie, look at that.”

You whisper in a condescending tone, bumping your odds of actually getting hurt up just a bit higher. He doesn't say a word, but the knuckles of his hand turning white with the strength of the grip speak volumes.

“This what you fucking want?”

He asks, pushing his hand into your hair before tugging to pull your head up. He pushes the blade harder against your skin. The sting of the sharp edge gliding over the inside of your thigh makes you push your hips back again. Once you make sure his eyes focus on your reflection, you smirk, bigger than before, and bite into your lower lip with a quiet whine. With a grunt, Frank holds you down in place, not allowing you to move further back on him,

“You're fucking sick, you know that?”

He points out, and you feel the win in your bones. Making yourself clench around him, you murmur quietly in the most innocent voice.

“Oh yeah, but you like it, Frankie.”

He breaks. His cock twitches inside you and he shoves your chest into the bathroom counter. Thrusting inside you, he follows his every move with a grunt. You grip onto the edge of the sink, now letting the sweet sounds of pleasure slip past your lips with no restrictions. Your breath hitches, the pounding in your head rushes once Frank leans over your body. With his chest pressed against your back, he presses the knife back into the inside of your thigh. You instinctively spread your legs open a bit more as he mumbles something about the knife again. The edge of the blade nicks your skin with the next thrust and you groan at the feeling. Rolling your eyes back, you let your head fall forward, fully aware of the fact Frank just felt how good that felt for you.

“God d-“

He starts in his raspy voice. His big hand holds your lower back in place once he pulls back, the drag of his cock slipping out of your body makes you curl your toes.

Lifting your head back up, you watch him in the mirror, seeing him kneel behind you quickly. You glance back at him confused, not sure of what to expect next.

You gasp, louder than you’ve liked it, but you can’t help it, it’s not your fault. You’d be lying if you said you were expecting him to do his. Kneeling on one knee, Frank pulls you closer by your thighs before pulling the mask up and he presses his tongue flat against the cut. It stings and you jump forward but he pulls you back to him before dropping his right hand to his cock, the knife still in his other hand while he strokes over his length a couple of times.

“So your cock’s fucking throbbing and I’m the sick one?”

You throw the question into the air and it’s like a slap across his face. He pauses, immediately standing up to shove you back down against the wood.

“You gonna act like you don’t like it?”

He spits out, not even expecting an answer, as he lines himself up with your entrance again. Adjusting his grip for a moment, he pulls you back on him instead of thrusting forward, and you struggle to regain balance for a moment as he pushes deeper and deeper inside you.

Out of your control at this point, your thighs press against each other, squeezing him tighter than before. He bends in half, grunting what seems like louder than the actual music playing outside the bathroom. You part your lips ready to deliver another smart ass comment but the force of his hips pushing against your ass, his dick hitting that stop deep inside right under your stomach? It knocks the wind out of you and turns your words into one loud moan.

“Fuck.”

You grunt, feeling your body dancing on the edge now. You prop yourself up, watching his body flex in the mirror as he fills you up, what feels like better than anyone has before.

You move on top of the counter, move with his body when he slips his hands between your bodies to finally push you over the edge. Making him drop the knife, you grab onto that hand and bring it up to cover your mouth with his big palm, muffling the sounds of your pleasured body as he works it even deeper inside you.

“Just needed it to hurt a bit, huh?”

Frank teases, pointing out how your body gives away how close you are now, how you’re unable to keep up the bratty demeanor anymore.

“The knife got you this close?”

You whine quietly through his fingers when he holds your back against his chest. His voice turns slightly softer when he fully takes in the state of you.

With your body shaking, your chest moving faster than he’s ever seen it before, your eyes watering and your hands clinging onto his arm, you let him make the call.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Hmm?”

You grunt, frustrated with the slightly condescending tone, but still nodding your head quickly.

“Attagirl, you calmed down a bit?”

And another nod, his fingers roughing over your clit, his cock twitching deep inside you.

“Yeah, that’s it, c’mon. C’mon you got it.”

He mumbles quietly, helping you lean over the counter one last time. His hands rest on your sides and as he pushes inside you again, you whine. Then again you cry out, pushing your legs together. He only manages half a thrust after pushing his fingers hard against your clit, rubbing over the most sensitive spot. You feel your body tensing up with both pain and pleasure as you reach back to hold onto his arm.

“Attagirl, you got it, that’s it”

Your nails dig into his skin while he works over you, letting your body squeeze around his cock once it finally hits you. The overwhelming pleasure floods your body, and you feel the heat from the top of your head down to the very tips of your toes. Winning out his name, you make it pretty obvious he managed it once again. With your muscles tense around him, Frank grunts loudly, pushing into you one more time before he follows with his own climax.

“Fuuuuuuuck-“

He groans, his cock aching for release once he finally reaches it. He gives a few final thrusts when he fills you up before taking a step back to pull his cock out.

Taking a deep breath in, he reaches up, pulling the mask off of his face while watching you attempt to collect yourself.

You try to catch your breath, pushing yourself up before you feel Frank's hand on your arm. He helps you up, turning you around to have you face him now and you notice his loud breathing slowly beginning to mirror your own.

You lean forward and so does he, both of you taking a moment to calm down. Your forehead rests against his as you close your eyes and attempt to steady your breathing.

“Shit.”

You glance down quickly, feeling his cum drip down the side of your leg. Frank's eyes follow, the mask tilts down when he watches the drop slide down over your skin. His hands move to your waist, and he helps you up onto the counter with a grunt. You sit right at the edge, getting comfortable and spreading your legs apart while he slowly gets on his knees right in front of you. You hold up the mask, resting it on top of his head, focusing on his face. You smile at the red hues in his skin.

“Oh, Frankie, I almost forgot how pretty you look.”

You tease and he follows up with a scoff.

“Yeah okay, c'mere.”

He pulls you forward, slightly closer to him, before helping you pull the dress up one more time. His warm breath fans your skin for a moment before he licks over his lips. They press against your skin now, right above the knee. Another kiss follows but higher up your leg and then once more. You push your legs apart more to make it easier for him.

“Attagirl.”

He mumbles against your skin, his hand rubbing over your calf softly while he works his lips over your skin for another moment.

“See? You can be nice sometimes.”

He whispers, and you hum impatiently, pushing your fingers through his exposed hair before tugging at them slightly. He scoffs, and you feel the quick breath on your center.

The second his tongue brushes over your folds, you shut your eyes completely. Still sensitive from the previous orgasm, you let your body lead this time and your head falls back, resting against the mirror while Frank takes care of you.

You moan out his name, not even attempting to fight it back, and he picks up the pace. The warm and wet sensation quickly works you up more than you're actually willing to admit. Relaxing into the feeling, you push your legs open further and Frank chuckles against your body. Your core rumbles with the sound and your thighs quickly press together, closing around his head. He groans, tongue slipping inside you while the pressure around his face tightens. Tilting his head up, he nudges the tip of his nose against your clit and your hips buck forward, a motion accompanied by another loud moan of his name.

You cover your mouth, but only for a second, failing to keep the sounds in once he wraps his lips around your most sensitive spot. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Frank successfully pushes you into an impatient state where you know if he won't get you to finish soon, you'll do it without his help. Your back arches and you mumble his name in an attempt to get his attention.

“Frank.”

You start and your body twitches. Feeling another long stroke of his tongue.

“Mhhh.”

He hums deep into you. Reaching for your legs, he throws them both over his shoulders and digs his fingers into your ass, quickly tugging you closer to him.

“Frank-”

Your breath hitches and you gasp quietly, whining his name out one more time. You feel yourself getting closer, the sounds of the party seem so distant now you almost forget where you are. Almost, because as you feel yourself getting close to your second climax, when his touch becomes so much more intense, when your legs tremble with the feeling, right at that very moment you realize. You never locked the door.

Hearing the sound of the doorknob turning, you press your foot against Frank's shoulder in a desperate attempt to push him away, but before you can do it, with his head still between your legs, Frank leans to the side quickly. With a loud grunt, he shoves the door closed with his shoulder without pulling away from you. He reaches up blindly, feeling the door for the lock, before you reach your hand over his head and finish for him.

He hums into your body, satisfied, and you feel yourself relaxing back into the feeling.

“Shit, Frankie...”

You whisper, pushing your hips forward against his face slightly. There’s a low, raspy chuckle that leaves his chest and you close your eyes, titling your head back to rest it against the mirror while he works on the second round.

You come shortly after and with your body so severely overstimulated, the soft, warm sensation of his tongue works better than he’d expect. He makes sure to take a mental note of it as he looks up from between your legs, watching when the second wave finally pushes you over the edge.

You rest, leaning against the mirror as he stands up in front of you, hand rubbing over your legs gently, his eyes fixed on yours.

“You okay?”

He asks. His soft, quiet question contrasts with whatever the hell the two of you just did in the small space of the bathroom. You lift your hand up, gesturing for him to stop talking and he chuckles quietly.

“Fair.”

He mumbles before turning his attention to his reflection. You watch as he cleans himself up a bit, washing the wet shine off his face and drying himself with the hem of his shirt.

Reaching over to the other side of the counter, he leans down, grabbing his knife off the floor and putting it away before handing the plastic mask over to you.

“Imagine if I didn't go out and pick this shit up.”

You snort, exhausted, enjoying how he literally managed to fuck the frustration out of himself.

“I don’t wanna think about that.”

You whisper, and he scoffs loudly, looking down and shaking his head before glancing back up at you.

“Yeah I bet.”

He helps you collect yourself, staying close by when you clean yourself up and straighten the fabric of your dress before handing you the previously abandoned underwear as you both get ready to leave the bathroom.

He offers you his hand, helping you off of the counter, and you lean on him while stepping down from it.

“Can you walk?”

He asks, and you look up at him, unimpressed with the not-so-subtle tease.

“Shut up.”

You mumble, hoping and praying your legs wouldn't just give out on you and give him something else to tease you about.

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

He grabs the mask and pulls it back on his face, then turns to you.

“Can you walk?”

He repeats the question, clearly enjoying this more than he should.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I saw how hard you got.”

“Okay, that’s it. Out.”

He gestures to the door, pulling it open to let you out of the room. You hold onto his hand, letting him lead. You ditch your shoes and he carries them for you as you both make your way towards the front door, glancing back in the direction of the party before turning back to face each other again.

“You wanna get the hell out of here?”

“Yeah.”

You nod.

“We gotta get all the use out of that mask before you toss it tomorrow.”

You point out, pulling the door open, and hear his laugh over your shoulder.

“You don’t think maybe you’ve had enough now?”

His voice cuts through the night, and you turn around with a playful smirk, feeling the cold, crispy autumn air fill your lungs.

“No, no, I don’t think so. Besides...”

You slowly pull the mask onto your face staring him down.

“I don’t think you’ve had enough either.”

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank catsle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank catsle x you #marvel punisher #frank catsle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal character #frank catsle fan fiction #jon bernthal fanfiction

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searenbound · 6 months ago

Text

Based on this post it was really fun to explore the concepts in this one

If you liked it please consider leaving a small tip through my cash app I'm trying to save up for nail tech classes and every little bit helps

Warnings: non-con/dub-con, reader is bullied briefly at the beginning, oral(female receiving), afab reader with she/her pronouns, vaginal fingering and penetration, omegaverse

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

“H-hey! Stop!” (Yn) yelled, knowing her pleas would fall on uncaring ears as the pack of girls shoved into someone’s room.

“Oh stop crying! We’ll let you out soon, probably”

She could practically hear the dismissive shrug and cruel smirk the leader of that little click likely gave.

“I guess that depends on how long Bakugou’s workout takes, you know how Alphas are! It'll probably only be an hour, maybe two? Hope he believes you when you tell him you weren't trying to steal from him!” they laughed, jamming the door shut and leaving (Yn) alone with nothing but her thoughts in the seemingly empty, strong-smelling room.

What did she do to deserve this? Whatever it was it couldn’t possibly warrant anything like this!

She was just a simple Omega, just trying to get a good education so she could get a good job, what did she do wrong to earn such scornful treatment?

Why di—

“The hell are you doing here?”

A heavy, labored, and husky voice sounded from behind her. She froze, her own voice trapped in her throat as she turned towards it to find the Alpha in question rising from his bed. His face flushed and hard to read as he observed her.

He knows her, well sort of? She's in a few of his classes. Always sticking to the corners of the room hoping no one noticed her, but he had.

He took note of every detail, head to toe, from the way her hair fell and complimented her face to the way she walked with a little sway in her hips.

He had wanted to talk to her at least once before his rut had started, but he never got the chance, and now that choice had been taken from them both.

“I uh, I don't know? I got s-shoved in here a-and.…” she stammered and rambled, getting his attention again.

But he couldn't focus on her words though. Her strawberries and cream scent was too sweet and distracting for him to ignore. In a desperate attempt to stave off his growing lust for the oblivious Omega, he tried to subtly palm himself quietly but he groaned at the contact making her jump.

He sounded pained, and her Omega instincts kicked in and brought her to his side quickly to see what was wrong and if she could help.

It was the biggest mistake she could have made. As soon as she was near, she could smell the scent of a frantic, rutting Alpha. It quickly became apparent the type of danger she was in quickly, but not as quick as Bakugou was.

He, in a matter of seconds, had torn through her clothes. Too far gone to ask any more questions or explain himself, too out of it to even notice her fearful begging for him to reconsider his actions.

All he could hear was that pleading tone and god was it easy to imagine that pretty voice begging him to breed her. A pretty little sound that made his knot twitch and ache. God, he needs to breed her.

He has to, needs to so badly, he couldn't stop himself when she smelled so danm good. He was going to breed her, but first, he had to make sure she was ready for him.

He shuddered at the thought, pinning her hips to his bed before laving his tongue over her sex, trying to put a taste to the sugary scent. This was the pussy he’d own. The one his Omega was in possession of. His, all his and he’ll make sure she knows it.

It didn’t matter that he’d never introduced himself properly to her, there’s plenty of time to know his mate better after this.

She tried to get him to stop. Squirming in his grip and tugging at his hair in a futile attempt to get him away from her, as she whimpered “Please, don’t”.

Only to be interrupted by a growl and a finger pushed into her already sopping wet cunt.

In his lust-altered state, her actions seemed like she was just impatient. Her plea was easily written off as her trying to beg him not to be a tease.

“Fucking god, you’re so damn wet, you want it bad don’t you?” he groans adding a second finger, and it must have sounded like some sort of sick taunt to her. His fingers thrusting and rubbing against her inner walls, unwanted and unwavering, but pleasurable in a way that felt like the deepest betrayal.

Her body was welcoming his actions and he seemed to be enjoying his perverse power over her. His lips pressed against her clit, kissing it before sucking and licking on the sensitive little bundle of nerves.

Pushing her closer to the edge of ecstasy. Closers to the cliff’s edge that she didn’t think she’d survive if she fell from it. It’d leave her broken, useless, and unable to fight his advances, but could she fight this anyway?

He seemed to have no problem overpowering her, seemed unbothered by her begging and feeble attempts to tug him off of her.

Should she just accept her fate? Should she just let herself fall apart and be his toy for the time being?

Her body felt hot and the little bit of internal thread he’s been toying with tangled, knotted, and pulled tighter and tighter until it snapped with a sobbing cry and blanking mind.

She clung tightly to him, not bothering to fight him when he kissed her and lined his thick cock with her entrance. Too far gone to even think about fighting this.

“P-please, at least be gentle with me, I um… I’ve never—”

“You’re still a virgin?” he cut her off, the gravity of their situation finally settling in his mind and he would have backed off. Apologizing profusely for how he behaved, how he let himself be taken by his rut.

She was probably waiting until she was more established to find herself a mate, and in a moment of selfish desperation he almost ruined her. He really did want to back off and let her go but…

“I— d-don’t you want me?”

But her instincts had kicked in and his hesitation must have read as rejection because she looked hurt.

Why did it hurt? She hadn’t wanted this, she didn’t want this!

But it hurts, it hurts so bad, tears started to prick up at her lashes.

Her body was going into heat because of him, and now he doesn’t want her?!

She was being rejected! She was being refused as an Omega and it hurts so much! Why would he be so cruel?

In reality, he doesn’t know what he was meant to do, he was no good at this.

No good at consoling words or gentleness, but he was good at expressing himself through his actions.

So he silenced her with one smooth roll of his hips, sinking into her until he was buried to the hilt.

Forcing back his growl and letting out a deep rumble of a purr in an attempt to assure her she would be safe sharing this first with him. He was determined to stay in control of his body through this, to touch her the way she wanted him to.

He was determined to force himself to be gentle, to slow his thrusts and take his time with her and…

“A-alpha”

Oh fuck.

He swallowed thickly, his pace quickening slightly. He didn’t know if he could keep this gentle facade for her if she wouldn’t even put up a fight against him. She’s being too accepting, too cute for him not to ruin thoroughly.

“I-it feels good! Feels— aha!”

Fuck it.

He took up the ruthless pace he was much more accustomed to and moved a hand to play roughly with her clit and a growl slipped out passed his lips. He couldn’t hold back after all, no, it was more like he just wouldn’t anymore.

He was allowing himself to get drunk off her whimpers and moans, taking pleasure from her blank and dazed expression as she practically crumbled under him.

“Are you, fuckin’ hell, you going to cum already?” He breathed against her ear, groaning at the resulting shiver that wreaked her body.

“You’re clenching around me so tightly, you wanted me to fuck you senseless like this, huh? Wanted to cum my knot, didn’t you?”. He grunted and she couldn’t find the words to respond.

She hadn’t wanted this at first, but now? She didn’t want to want this, but her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, and her nails clawed into his back of their own accord, her mouth ran without hesitation or thought.

“Please! Want it so bad! I want your knot Alpha!”.

She cried out and was silenced with a kiss and the overwhelming sensation of being pushed past the edge and stuck in that blissful free fall as he knotted her.

They stayed tied for what felt like hours before he could safely pull out. In truth it was only minutes, but the conversation they needed to have afterward made the wait unbearable.

Only for it to be as simple as explaining how she ended up trapped in with him, and a promise that he’ll never stop working to earn her forgiveness for this. Because no, it doesn’t matter how this happened or ended, he still did something awful to her and he won’t forgive himself until he’s made sure she’s living a happy fulfilling life with him.

The first step is tearing the heads off her soon-to-be former bullies.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader smut #katsuki x reader smut #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader smut #tw non con #tw dubious consent #tw omegaverse #tw bullying

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ghostyeyestohide · 19 days ago

Text

Just The T(hree)wo of Us

(I Put A Spell On You Part 3)

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC) x Junior (Foe) x Hen (Foe)

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ (MINORS, SCROLL AWAY), buildup (if you got the attention span of a squirrel, DONT READ), threesome, bxb, oral sex (f receiving, m receiving), titty sucking/fondling, bisexuality (from m and slightly, non-sexual from f), deepthroat (m and f), smoking, double vag penetration, masturbation, choking, ass eating , some femdom, some masdom, grinding, some slapping, dirty talk, praise kink, hair pulling, creampie (Terrance to Valerie), voyeurism, cussing, aftercare, drinking, drunk/high behavior, some jealousy, some angst, mentioning of upbringing (how they met), mentions of sexual harassment, mention of blood, and Non-Canon/Canon.

Parts: Part One • Part Two

Summary: After eating dinner, dancing with each other, and putting Hen in bed to rest from her drunkness, the remaining trio spend time together when things take a steamy turn.

A/N: It’s here. My version of the perfect threesome that should’ve happened for Foe. This was the one I was looking the most forward to because literally, despite the ever-growing homoeroticism tension between the men (which anyone who watched or read this felt) and just the chemistry we got between Aaron, Paul, and Saoirse, we got nothing. I felt like we got blue balls because how do you film that and not give us the gay shit or the bi shit? Also, some of the scientific things in here might be confusing, but this is a fanfiction after all. Hope y’all enjoy it!

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do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

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The couples eat quietly at the table, saying a few words to each other. A few quick glances, drinking some of their wine, some laughter, and utensils move around.

Junior sips his wine as he looks at Valerie, clearing his throat.

“So. Valerie.” he says, making her look at him.

“Yes?”

“I know this is your last night here and we do appreciate you for staying with us in our home, even if we didn’t make you feel like it. But, we were wondering…”

“How did you two meet?” asks Hen, butting in.

“Me and…”

“Terrance.”

“Oh! I thought you meant me and your husband! Got a little worried there.” she said, making everyone laughing.

She clearly her throat as she looked at Terrance, who was patiently waiting for her to tell it.

“Well. What’s a romantic story without a sad background, right?” she smiled a little, grabbing his hand to hold as everyone nodded.

“I’m originally from New York, as you can tell since this gorgeous man is very British.” she chucked. “But yeah. I was born there, but I’m not sure whether I was born in a hospital or on the streets because from what they told me, I was abandoned a few hours later in Inwood Hill Park.” she added.

“Oh my god.” said Hen, clutching her chest.

As she was about to speak again, Valerie feels her chest heating up, causing her to gently rub it.

“You okay?” asked Terrance.

“Mmhm. I just feel a little funny when I tell this story.”

“We can stop if you want.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” she said, squeezing his hand. “But, because they couldn’t find my parents, specifically my mother, I was placed in foster care. Not that I have an interest in finding them now cause I really don’t care. I bounced around a lot growing up. Some years, I was in Washington Heights. Other years, Harlem. And for the last three years of high school, Jamaica. A neighborhood in Queens, not the country, in case you got confused. But, because of this, my grades weren’t that great, but I still managed to pass for the year and that was fine with me. I knew I wasn’t going to college not because I couldn’t afford it, but I didn’t really think I had a future.”

She takes a sip of her wine as she carefully grabs one of Terrance’s hands and place it under her stomach, signaling to keep it eye on it.

“I was also picked on a lot for how I looked. Classmates, friends, roommates, even strangers. Same story you probably heard about any plus size person getting told about their health, compared to animals, statues, cars, food, even books. But that wasn’t bothering me as I got older. It was when they were saying no one was gonna love someone like me, no wonder your people abandoned you, you’re a failure, and like those kind of mean things. That’s like something you can’t get really get rid of and you just gotta hide it in your face or they’re gonna think you’re weak, even if you know that’s not true. As soon as I turned 18, I noticed I started getting treated differently.”

“You did something good?” asked Junior.

She shakes her before taking another sip, feeling the sensation growing a bit, making her feel a bit uneasy.

“Maybe I shouldn’t drink more of that.” she mumbled, pushing her glass towards Terrance, who takes it.

“Did you wanna change your…” he asked, signaling her tab.

“Mmm. Not yet. It’s not….messing with me.” she replied before clearing her throat. “Sorry, where was I? Oh right. When you become legal, I guess most men start paying attention? I mean, I was always getting that, but always rejected it since I was underage and didn’t want to deal with an older boyfriend like some girls unfortunately get groomed into doing. I had a boyfriend who was treating well until he felt like he can do better and just abandoned me. And of course, it was getting worse as I was getting harassed, stalked, and degraded almost every day that I had to quit so many jobs so I can avoid it. Of course, this was annoying my group home a lot since they felt like I was lazy when I’m just protecting myself?”

The sensation began winding down as she shifted in a her seat, fixing her posture.

“This went on until three months before my 21st birthday. The day after I quit another job, my friend told me that this post Columbia graduation party was looking for waitresses to serve drinks, offering $7.50 per hour + tips to work, as long as you were 21 and above. I declined because I wasn’t that age and of course, she knew I was gonna say that because she immediately pulled out a fake I.D. with my face and fake information on there. So now, I can’t say no!” she said, making everyone laugh.

“Oh, you sound like you loved trouble.” said Hen, smiling at her.

“Hen!” said Junior, irritated at her comment.

“It’s okay, she’s not wrong. It’s New York after all. Hope y’all get to visit one day.” said Valerie as she took a sip of her water.

“We get to the party, dressed in our black tie, white dress shirt, black slacks, and black shoes uniform. It was starting off fine because everyone was behaving well, socializing, congratulating each other, you know, just being proud of finishing their degree. But like three hours later, almost everyone is torn up. Like, once all of the adults and responsible people left, the hard drinking, dancing, making out, joking around shit started. It was slightly getting bad that we had to secretly switch the alcohol out with water so we weren’t responsible for anything that happens.” she continued.

“I went on break finally. And as I was sitting in an area where we were allowed, this group of drunken male graduates came up to me. I already knew what the hell was about to happen, so I was preparing to get away. The ringleader, as I like to call him, started harassing me and was like show your tits, I’ll pay you a $1000 to see em and was waving the money in my face. I almost gave in, but I knew better, so I said no and got up to leave, but his friend immediately shoves me back into seat, hovering over me. They beginning degrading me, saying I’m just a big bitch who shouldn’t have standards since I’m not worthy, probably waiting until someone richer than them picks me, and basically the I’m a nice guy monologue that Hen would probably know so many different versions of.” she said, looking at her.

“Oh, please. We’ll be here all night.” she replies.

“See! She knows the feeling. As I’m getting bombarded….this tall, beautiful guy comes up, cursing them out. Telling them to fuck off, you don’t wanna try me, I’ll whoop your ass in what I thought was very old New Yorker accent and they went finally away, ending the tormenting.”

“I can’t believe you really thought I was from there.” said Terrance, gently pulling her into him.

“I mean, you did sound like you could’ve been raised in Hyde Park, but then again, it was late. But, he made sure I was okay, ask what was my name and we talked for very long time, very into everything I was saying. How he was from South London, was on a scholarship here, and now, just got his bachelor’s in bioinformatics, with a minor in space studies. Which told me he was the real deal. And he was starting at OuterMore very soon, working on the then-developing living in space program. Then I got kicked out.”

“What?” said Hen.

“Why?” asked Junior.

“The guys complained and I was late from my break. So, I didn’t get paid. However, he came out, apologized for what happened and walked me home. He paid more than what I was suppose to get, but I didn’t want to take it at first. Kept telling him I wasn’t one of those girls, but he reassured that he knew that, giving me his number to call him.” she said, rubbing his face.

“She was very nervous. I guess she was worried I was wasting her time, just trying to smash and go like they were calling it, but I wasn’t. Most of the women I’ve dated had everything they worked that most successful men were looking to have on their arm. But me? I was just looking for someone that will make me happy, regardless of what they brought to the table. We went on a few dates to places she never been to, went shopping for new clothes, took her to do things she always wanted to do. All to see her smile, feeling the love that she always wanted.” said Terrance, rubbing her side.

They both looked at Hen and Junior, who were connecting very closely to the story they’re hearing, sitting closer to each other.

“I can remember the day I moved out of my group home. Or, should I say, kicked out. They were upset that I was, once again, seeing Terrance for another date instead of getting another job that I got accused of being his sugar baby, which didn’t make sense as Terrance is only three months older than me. So, I fought one of them.” she said, laughing at the last part.

“She called me crying, telling me what had happened and I told her she can’t stay there much longer. So, I drove over there as fast as I could and helped her move everything she owned into the car. She got her file, which had her birth certificate, social security card, and other documents that were very important and we left.”

“Were they fawning over you when you arrived?” asked Hen.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“…it was fucking pathetic, Hen. Really. I told her not to hang up as she was packing whatever she could while I was on my way, and the whole time, they were insulting her. Saying the most disrespectful things over an assumption they made. But when I showed up, the energy changed. Oh wow, you’re cute, this is the guy Val’s been seeing?, you don’t need her, you need me like absolutely pathetic.”

“I moved into his place and we stayed in, order some Indian for take out. While we were eating, he asked me what do I see myself doing if this relationship went further, saying it’s okay to be honest….so I told him the truth. I didn’t want to work at all. I just wanted to be a stay-at-home wife and mom, taking care of the house, cooking since that’s what I like to do, cleaning if its needed, crocheting, reading, just being home while he worked. And, I broke down crying, feeling like I wasn’t the girl he wanted to be with since I have nothing remotely close to his achievements to offer. But instead of confirming it, he kissed me, saying he didn’t care about me not having shit. He just cared about being in love with me and bringing me along his journey with OuterMore.” she smiled, eyes begin tearing up.

“About three days later, I got a call from my supervisor. He said he wanted me to begin working with them as an agent immediately instead of continuing to be their associate, being impressed with the work in my portfolio. After I accepted the offer, I went to this jewelry store she liked and bought her dream engagement ring.” he said, looking at her and the ring on her left hand.

“He proposed to me at Inwood Hill a few hours later. Saying after six months of dating, listening to my past for hours, and thinking about the future I see for us, he decided that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, wanting to take care of me and our family. I said yes, obviously. Then, that Thursday of the week, after buying our wedding bands, we eloped at a courthouse in lower Manhattan. I wore this creamy silk dress with a white fur sleeve, sparkly white pumps, natural makeup, a side part that the Hollywood Divas had, a red lip, and matching diamond choker and earrings. With these gorgeous red buds as my bouquet.” she says, staring into the distance.

“And I wore a black suit and black shoes, not wanting to outshine her.” he adds, making them both laugh.

“We went to Miami for our honeymoon. Had so much fun being in the sun and going to salsa clubs. Then, we headed Cleveland, where he started the work on the program.”

“And now here we are. 8 years later.”

“Still going strong.” she said, hold her hand up to look at her engagement and wedding ring.

Terrance smiled, gently placing his hand with his band over hers. Hen watched them, fascinated by their love story while Junior looked at them with a puzzled look on him face.

“Is there a reason you haven’t welcomed a baby yet?” he asked, skepticism filling his voice.

Terrance sends a glare, stiffening up. Valerie looks at Junior, panicking in silent as she fights the urge to not reveal her true self. She squeezes his hand, hoping to calm down.

“I work too much.” said Terrance, relaxing his jaw. “I always wanted to have kids when we are ready. But, because I’m too focused on my assignments, I don’t wanna bring in babies if I’m not gonna be there for them. Or her.”

“Well. I hope you do have some. You two would be amazing parents.” said Junior before he gets up and walks out, stunning everyone.

“….did you say something wrong?” said Valerie, finally calming down.

“No. Let him be. He’s probably going back to his old self slowly. Which is normal for replicas to do when the real one is coming back.” said Terrance, looking down.

“I wanna apologize about what I said to you yesterday, Valerie. I shouldn’t have assumed that you were using him when I was just reacting negatively to how both of you loving each other while….me and him can’t do the same. What I said came from a place of hate and I’m sorry that I even said it.” said Hen, with an apologetic look in her eyes.

“…I accept your apology. But let me just tell you this as a way for you to understand: if it can’t get fixed after it’s broken….just let it go.” said Valerie, sending a small smile to her.

Hen nods shakily, understanding what she meant by that. Valerie wipes her face before standing up, fixing herself.

“Dinner was delicious, but Ima go change before I eat some of my cake. Don’t be greedy while I’m gone.” she said, kissing Terrance’s forehead before heading towards the stairs.

“Baby, wait.” he mumbles, following her.

“Hm?” she says, turning around to face him.

He steps closer, wrapping his hands around her waist, before placing a long, sweet kiss on her lips. She wraps her hands around his neck, kissing him back. She breaks it, catching her breath as he smiled, resting his chin on her head.

“Just because I’m in your embrace, it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Well, at least not yet. Understand?” she says, letting go of him.

“Yes, ma’am.”’ he replied quietly, watching her walk up the stairs.

“….you really do love her.” said Hen.

“She’s all I have. And I’m all she has.” he responds, walking back into the dining room, and picking up their plates before heading to the kitchen. Hen takes a swigs of her wine before getting up to do the same thing.

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Changing out of her dress to a black, silky wrap dress that enhances her chest by pushing them up, she stands in front of the bathroom mirror, taking in her beauty.

Looking down, she unzips a black pouch and opens it up. Inside, its holds full and empty tabs: mini bullet shaped tablets, covered in the ‘OuterMore’ logo and serial numbers, that holds a light green liquid, specialized to keep her up and running without ever going bad. She changes it monthly since that’s how long it lasts, getting a yearly supply.

Picking up her magnetic tool, she places it on her upper left tricep, watching it connect to a spot, which lights up a glowing, white ‘OuterMore’ circular logo before it opens, sticking out a bloody covered empty tab. Using a cotton pad, she pulls it, disconnecting it from its hold. feeling the pressure releasing. Picking up a new one, she groans as she inserts it, feeling it connect before the circle sucks it, closing it.

Afterwards, she cleans the empty tab before placing it in the pouch and zipping it, washing her hands before walking out of the bathroom. After closing the door, she turns to head back down, but is stopped as Junior stands in front of her, leaning against the wall. She puffs, giving him a stern look.

“Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t wanna hear it.” she states as she turns.

Junior grabs her arm, gently pulling back and pinning her against the door. He steps into her space, breathing hard.

“If you mention it to Hen, I swear….”

“You swear to what? You’re gonna hurt me? Reveal that I got turned on by you watching us fuck like an audience member watching a play? Because he already knows and if anything, it makes him want you even more.” she said, tracing over his face.

Junior, alarmed by her reaction, steps back slowly. She smiles evilly, leaning forward.

“This isn’t over. This is just the beginning.” she whispered, glaring at him before heading downstairs.

Junior leaned against the wall, trying to figure out what she was meant by that.

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Junior walks into the kitchen and grabs a beer. As he grabs a seat in the dining room, he overhears a song playing in the living room.

He looks and sees Hen sitting on the edge with a glass of wine as Valerie was eating some of her cake. They were watching Terrance, smoking and drinking, walk around the room as he began to recite the lyrics of the song playing:

I did not become someone different

That I did not want to be, as he walks to where Junior was watching, smoking his blunt before blowing the smoke out and putting up his fist.

But I'm new here

Will you show me around?, he said, looking at both Hen and Valerie.

“Maybe.” Hen replies in a flirty way.

“Watch it.” said Valerie, looking at her. Hen throws her hands up in a surrendering way as Terrance starts walking towards them slowly.

No matter how far wrong you've gone, he says, posing in front of them.

You can always turn around, as he nods with the blunt positioned in front of him, making all of them laugh as he takes another hit.

Met a woman in a bar, as he blows out the smoke and takes a seat between the women, sitting slightly closer to Hen.

Told her I was hard to get to know, as Junior walks in, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from the trio.

And near impossible to forget, as Valerie looks at him.

She said I had an ego on me, as Terrance leans in her space.

The size of Texas, as he kisses her neck, surprising her, who hits him in his chest, making him and Hen laugh.

Valerie grabs his wrist with the blunt, hits it, and blows in face before kissing him passionately, both fighting for control before she breaks it, chuckling on his shoulder. He smiles as he leans near Hen, who is slowly getting even more drunk as Junior watches, having an invidious look on his face.

“Ready?” asked Terrance.

No matter how far wrong you've gone, as him and Hen sang, with the latter mumbling it.

“Yeah..go..1, 2, 3, 4.” he whispered, holding an invisible microphone in front of her.

You can always turn around, as the trio sang happily, smiling and giggling.

“Wow, we’re all fucked.” said Valerie as she nibbled on her slice.

Terrance lets out a laugh as he places his glass on the table before leaning back and smoking. Valerie sips some of her wine as she gently rubs his thigh, making him send her a lustful look.

And I'm shedding plates like a snake, as Hen gets up, placing her glass on the table.

She does a playful hissing and snake hand motion towards Junior, who gets up to get away, but she pulls him back, begging him to stay. They spin for a moment as Valerie and Terrance, now laid out on the couch, watches.

“That’s it, man!” said a gleeful Terrance as Hen begins to kiss on Junior’s neck, making him blush. He looks at Valerie with an itch in his eye before leaning close to Hen’s ear, face dropping.

“I don’t want you two talking about me anymore.” he says loudly, but Hen ignores, still rubbing and kissing on him.

Terrance chuckles as Valerie watches with pity, feeling very bad for Hen in this moment. Junior begins kissing back, but she slowly begins to pull away, mood becoming sour.

“Hey, that’s it! That’s the spirit!” said Terrance, not understanding what’s going on as his eyes are half closed.

“Don’t make this even worse, baby.” said Valerie, sipping more.

Hen angrily walks off, leaving Junior alone with his embarrassment. She goes to their music box in the dining room and cuts the song abruptly, snapping Terrance out of it.

“….what happen?” he asks, looking at Junior, who looks back at him.

“Your hardheaded subject is a fucking mood killer.” said Valerie as she got up with her glass, walking to where Hen was.

Terrance watches her in a confused manner as Junior stood there, said nothing. In the dining room, Hen is finding the next song as Valerie appears next to her.

“Hey. Are you okay?” she asks, placing her hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. He’s just cranky.” said Hen, still searching.

“You have got to stop excusing him, Hen.”

“Val, please. I don’t wanna…”

“Just find the song.” she said, slowly becoming irritated.

After a few more minutes of searching, she finds the song, pressing play on it:

“Oh, I love this song here!” Valerie exclaims, slowly moving to the beat.

Hen walks to where the wine bottle was, pouring the remaining inside her glass, and drinking it. She joins Val, dancing along to the beat.

“What happen?” Terrance asked again, looking at Junior, who is also dancing slowly.

“Ah, fuck it.” he replied.

“You didn’t like us singing?”

“No.”

Terrance lets out a laugh as Junior continues dancing, not paying him no mind.

“Oh, you’re in for a good time.” he mumbled, drinking out of his glass.

The women begin dancing with each other, doing a couple’s routine.

The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything, as they spanned.

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for, as they dipped.

Black velvet and that little boy's smile, as they sang.

Black velvet with that slow southern style, as they span again.

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees, as Valerie turns Hen forward, bringing her close and places her hands on her hips.

Black velvet if you please, as they grinded slowly into a semi-squat, surprising Hen.

“Oh, so you get down like this?” she asked, standing up with her. Valerie laughed, gently moving them back and forth.

“Only if the men stopped dancing. Or if I’m attracted to you.” she replied, turning her around to face her.

Hen makes a giddy expression, wrapping her hands around her neck.

“So you’re saying I have a chance?” she asked curiously, making both of them smile.

“That’s only if you actually want to be with a woman. And based on everything I know about you, you don’t have it.” she replied, spinning them around as Hen gasped.

The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true, as they span.

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for, as they dipped.

Black velvet and that little boy's smile, as they sang, off-key this time.

Black velvet with that slow southern style, as they span again.

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees, as Hen turns Valerie forward, bringing her close and slowly creeping her hand around her neck

Black velvet if you please, as they grinded slowly into a semi-squat, with her gently squeezing it, making Valerie smirk.

“Liked the response, but you’re still not selling it.” she said, causing Hen to scoff as both women laugh.

Suddenly, they hear someone clear their throat. As they looked up, they see Junior leaned against the frame, staring at them with an exasperated look. Hen, scared of what he’ll do, steps back but falls after her dress catches the ledge of the chair.

“Ow!” she yelps.

“Wow! Two in a row for mood killing, Junior.” said Valerie as she kneels to help her.

“Oh, don’t act like you wasn’t just grinding on her!” he yells, now angry.

“It’s called dancing with each other to the vibe of the song, which sounds like you don’t quite understand!” she said, helping Hen up.

Hen groans, rubbing her head. Junior rolls his eyes, not saying anything before walking into the kitchen.

“I think I’m done for the night.” she mumbled, now sleepily.

“Want me to help you to bed?” asked Valerie.

Hen nods, putting her arm around her waist as she does the same. They began walking, passing Junior on the way out as Valerie looks at Terrance.

“Baby, can you be a good boy and bring Hen a slice of the cake, maybe two ibuprofens, and a glass of water?” she asks as they head up.

“Yeah. I’ll be up in a second.” said Terrance, getting up to walk to the kitchen.

Junior, drinking another beer, watches Terrance take out a plate and slicing a piece of the cake, plating it before grabbing a glass and filling it with water from the pitcher. Placing the glass near the plate, he examines the cabinet until he find the ibuprofen bottle and shakes out two pills, placing them on the plate.

“You’re fine with your wife dancing on mines like that?” Junior asks, breaking the silence.

“We been kissing behind their backs for months.”

“So? That doesn’t make it okay.”

“I guess you two are almost even.” he replies, grabbing the plate and glass, walking towards the stairs.

“And I’m suppose to carry on while you’re not even mad?!”

“Junior.” he says, turning to look at him. “She’s attracted to women. Always has been. I know her type. Hen’s not one of them.”

He continues walking, with Junior’s tensive gaze following him.

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Gently placing Hen in bed, Valerie moves over to let Terrance place the glass and plate on the nightstand before he goes out, closing the door behind him.

“Alright. When you wake up in the morning, you take at least one pill. If it’s even worse, take both. Eat some of the cake when you keep waking up. Helps with the nausea.” she said, placing the cover over Hen as the latter watches.

She gently traces over Valerie’s chest, making her breathe steady before removing her hands away. She leans forward, gently pushing Hen’s hair back.

“Hen. Don’t get me wrong, you are a beautiful woman. But, I know this is not what you truly want. You’re just doing this to get back at him for what he did tonight. Or you’re scared of the real Junior not meeting your needs when he comes home. Remember what I told you to do.” she states, looking at her.

She kisses her hands before getting up, walking to the door.

“…I don’t want him to go!” Hen cries out, sniffling.

Valerie sighs, turning to look at her.

“Then spend enough time with him tomorrow. At least you get an extra day alone with him. Try to treasure your memories before they take him.”

“And you feel nothing? Not even a bad feeling?”

“Like I said…..I’m used to it….I’m used to everything.”

She stood there, thinking about everything she’s witnessed since becoming a life long replica of Valerie. While there’s always the good moments, the bad ones seem to be the ones that stay in her mind as they shut them off after their final goodbye.

“Good night, Valerie.” said Hen, slowly closing her eyes.

“Good night, Hen.” she replied, walking out the door.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

As Valerie walks to her room, the door of the room, that Junior and Terrance were in earlier, opens. Terrance pops out, looking at her.

“Hey.” he says.

“Hey.” she says, smiling a little.

“Did you want to come and sit as I examine Junior?”

“Examine? Ain’t it a little too late for that?”

“Yeah, but……he seems a little…..tense. And I think you and I can help him with that.” he says, gently pulling her close.

“….are you insane? I thought you wouldn’t violate your policy, putting all of us in jeopardy!” she said, pushing him back. He laughs, pulling her back.

“We can erase it. It’s not hard and only takes 30 minutes. I can do it tomorrow after I take you home. Plus…”

He trails off as he places kisses on her neck, making her tense up, heat rising all over her.

“You admitted to him watching us. So Why. Don’t. We. Punish. Him?” he says in between kisses as he rubs her breasts.

Valerie laughs, moaning quietly as she rubs Terrance’s length through his pants while looking at a very shirtless, drunk Junior, who’s facing the wall, back towards them.

“Fine. As long as I’m in control.” she replied, walking into room.

“Always.” he whispers, closing the door behind him, which startles Junior.

“What the fuck, man?” he asked, turning to look at him.

He stops, looking at Valerie, who winks at him before taking a seat on the bed. Terrance walks over to a box, retrieving a small device dot as he turns on the control system, which detects breathing, water intake, and heartbeating.

“Valerie is going to sit in if that’s okay.” he says, looking at Junior.

“Yeah. That’s fine.” he replied, still looking at her.

Terrance walks over, standing on his right as he turns him forward while Valerie lays across the bed.

“Hold your arm up like this.” he says, gently lifting Junior’s arm up.

“Have you two been drinkinnnng?” he asks drunkly, holding the arm up.

“I think we all been drinking.” replied Valerie, making all three of them laugh.

Terrance places the dot on his armpit, looking at him while pressing it down to seal it. Junior looks at him, a glare in his eyes as Valerie watches.

“Is something bothering you?” he asks.

“Mmmm.” as he shakes his head.

“…I can feel it in you.”

“No….its more like an awakening.” he replied, lifting his left arm up.

Terrance nods, removing his hands as he turned to grab his glass of wine off the nightstand, walking back to the box as he signals Valerie to ask the next question on the paper next to her.

“And how has this awakening affected Hen?” she asks, making him turn to look at her in a discreetly manner.

He laughs, letting out a strange sound as Terrance watches.

“….are you working with OuterMore too?” he asks.

“What makes you think that?”

“Asking questions about Hen. Suddenly showing concern for her? Was that story you were telling earlier planned? Did he tell you to do that?”

“Oh yes. I faked everything for sympathy, especially for the one who’s trying to save their marriage.” she replied sarcastically, making Terrance laugh.

“You’re fucking sick. Him being here and asking questions about her is sick, you’re being okay with it—“

“Back at square one.” she mumbled.

“Everything is just fucking sick with you two.”

“Look, she was just wondering as it’s apart of the questions. You don’t have to be rude about it.” said Terrance as he places a bracelet on Junior’s left wrist.

“What is that?!” he says, looking at it.

“It monitors your hydration. Does she tells you what she likes?” he asks, handing Valerie a glass of water.

Junior looks at him, very confused about the question as Valerie scoots to lay against the railing, retrieving the water.

“…what’s that?”

Valerie chuckles, sipping her water as she knows where her husband is going with this.

“…your wife, Junior. Is she open and honest with her preferences?” asks Terrance, who’s voice goes a little deep.

“About what?”

“Come on…you know….fucking.” he replies with a delicious lustful tone on the last word.

Valerie groans a bit, slightly becoming aroused by his questioning as Junior, who is slowly becoming annoyed but turned on, stares at him.

“Is she explicit about what she likes?”

“You’re sick.” said Junior.

“What she needs.”

“Fuck you.” he said, giggling as Terrance continued.

“Every relationship depends on open and honest communication, you know that.” he says as he sits down in his chair.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“He’s not hearing it at all.” said Valerie, now rubbing her leg.

“It’s fine. Its fine. It’s just a conversation.” he says, giggling along with Junior, who now stares at the both of them.

Junior slowly gets up from his chair, turning it to face forward, before sitting down, keeping an intense glare on Terrance, who matches his energy.

“..do you enjoy playing with us?” asks Junior.

“People fascinate me. You-you two fascinate me.” said Terrance, looking at Valerie, who is now sitting forward.

“Is that how you keep your marriage alive?”

“….I listen to her preferences. Her needs. Her orders. Even if she doesn’t say it explicitly.” he replied, not taking his eyes off her.

“Oh. So you’re not the one in control.”

“Never was. And he wanted it that way.” said Valerie, getting up.

“Oh really?”

She nodded, gently tracing Terrance’s arms as she slowly walked around him, making him lick his lips.

“He was bored of being in control while making love, felt like it should be an equal thing that shouldn’t be looked down on. So, I asked him what did want me to do.” she says as she stands in front of him, facing Junior.

“….what did he say?”

“Bark orders. Tell him what to do, choke him, tease him, slap him, punish him, was into degrading until I got a little uncomfortable, and my favorite: denying him of release.” she says as she sits on his lap, feeling his length poking at her.

“Does he know you like being watched like a fucking whore would?” he asks, looking at the both of them.

Valerie chuckles as she begins kissing Terrance, grinding against his length, which makes him let out a few groans. Junior looks away, moving his hands to cover his now growing length. Terrance breaks the kiss, looking at him.

“She already admitted that when she told me you were there the night I was fucking her against the couch. The same day you got on your knees and sucked me off while Hen was out.” he said, making Junior look at him in an appalling way and Valerie laughing, getting up.

She knew they kissed a few times, but Junior blowing Terrance, even though he hates them? Oh, this just makes this night even more interesting and exciting for her.

“….I thought you weren’t real. Assumed the wife thing was just him lying about his attraction.” he confessed, looking at her with a pathetic look.

“So that’s why you were out there? You were hoping he was really alone so you two could fuck and Hen wouldn’t find out. Tsk tsk.” she replied, taking a swig from Terrance’s wine glass.

She gently tracing over Junior’s chest, taking in everything she just found out just in this moment. She slowly sits in his lap, hearing him wince as her ass rubbed against his length as Terrance looks on, gently rubbing his own.

“You know, baby…..you did a good job choosing the first man, I’ll give you that. But him though? Oh, you definitely wanted a brat to fuck.” she says, hearing Terrance chuckle.

“First man? You guys are open?” asks Junior.

“No. We’re almost that, but it was just me bringing home women I wanted to fuck and sharing with him. I don’t know what’s it called, but it’s that.” she says, wrapping her arms around him.

“You do this with all of your subjects? Risking your job while lying to their partners?” said Junior, getting heated.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t go along with it when you’re the one who made the first move.” said Terrance.

“Please. How many men have you said that to?”

“You’re the first one. I made sure to never hook up with any of the female subjects, wives, or girlfriends as a way to protect his job. Hell, I didn’t think he would actually get attracted to a man ever. Until he got assigned to you. And suddenly, you started to pop up in his mind…”

She begins moving her hips against his clothed length, making Junior hold in his groans as Terrance becomes even more aroused.

“He probably was thinking about you while he was fucking me. Imagining you twisted all up on the couch, stroking yourself as he pounds that attitude out of you, basically dominating you as you moaning under him.” she said, gently sucking his neck.

“My god, y’all are sick.” he whispered, groaning at the sensation of her essence soaking him.

She stops abruptly, making Junior hold a scowl at her. She removes her arms, placing them at her sides.

“So push me off. Since you hate it so bad. Be a real man like you are.”

He looks at Terrance, who is waiting for him to make the next move. Looking her up and down, he takes in her beauty, understanding why Terrance chosen her as his wife. Who wouldn’t want to be with this beautiful woman forever?

Looking down to where the string is, he pulls it, which unwraps and opens her dress, exposing her breasts and underwear. He removed it, tossing it to the side as he looks at her breasts, salivating at the roundness and hard nipples. He gently touches them until she raised his arms up, holding them hostage. She smiles at him, leaning in.

“You’re gonna obey me and Terrance. Which means no touching, including yourself, no fucking unless one of us tells you to move, and no disobeying. Understand?” she said, leaning over him.

“…yes.” he nodded, locking eyes with her.

Valerie motions Terrance to come to them, which he does. She gently pulls him down to her, placing a sloppy kiss on his mouth before turning back to Junior, who watches hungrily. She traces his mouth with her fingers before giving him a sloppy kiss as well, with him slightly fighting back.

“Don’t get too greedy, baby.” whispered Terrance, rubbing her back.

She pulls away, moving to the side a bit as she pulled Terrance to Junior, backing up to give them space. The men hesitated for a moment before embracing in a kiss, with Terrance wrapping his hand around Junior’s neck. She carefully slides out of Junior’s lap, walking to get a sip of water.

Terrance breaks the kiss, breathing very hard as he smirks at Junior, lust consuming the both of them. He picks him up by the neck, almost having him off his feet and suffocating him.

“What do you want to do with our toy?” he asks, looking at her.

She sips her water before walking over them, rubbing Junior’s face. She tugs at his pants, unbuckling them and removing it, leaving him with a growing tent in his underwear. She touches it, making him flinch before kissing his cheek.

“I want to see how he blew you. Wondering if he did a good job.” she said, kneeling down to her knees.

Terrance moans, letting Junior go and begins removing his clothes. Valerie motions Junior to kiss her on the neck, in which he does as she gently slides her hand into his underwear.

“Wow. You’re very hard and submissive.” she mumbled, gently stroking his length, making him moan quietly.

After throwing his underwear to the side, Terrance stands in front the duo, stroking his length as Valerie removes her hand, gently wrapping it around his length.

“Ladies first.” said Junior, making all three of them laugh.

Moving herself in position, she engulfs him into her mouth, earning a loud groan from Terrance. She grabs Junior’s hands and places them on her hair, signaling him to hold it. She continues sucking him, gently massaging his balls as she strokes the rest, keeping her eyes up at Terrance. Junior watches intensely, feeling warmth growing inside of him.

“You wanna make Hen happy? Let her take control in the bedroom.” said Terrance, groaning immediately as Valerie takes him out, catching her breath.

She moves back, letting Junior get in her position. Terrance lifts his face up, tapping the side of his mouth to signal ‘open’, which he does, sticking his tongue. He taps his tip on it, rubbing it for a few moments before sliding into his mouth, using his head as leverage as he begins fucking it. Junior, taken aback by the move, placing his hands on his thighs to push back, but receives a hard slap on his ass from Valerie.

“Put them down. Just breathe through your nose and keep your balance.” she says, pushing his arms down.

Terrance begins moving his hips forward, carefully going a sluggish pace as Junior tries to keep his balance, but pulls away, coughing very hard. Valerie laughs, standing next to him.

“Watch me.” she says, inserting Terrance’s length back into her mouth, but removing her hands.

He resumes his pace, with the sounds of her slurping and gagging filling up the room. She stops him, catching her breath. She gently strokes him as she guides Junior to his length by his neck.

“Do what I did. Just without falling or choking.” she whispers, inserting Terrence’s length into his mouth.

Junior focuses on breathing and keeping himself up as he matches his aggressive pace, hearing him moan loudly as he hits the back of his throat a few times. Valerie watches, aroused by him pleasuring her husband with his mouth.

Noticing how close Terrance was to his release, she removes his length from his mouth, making him exhale hard. He leans down to kiss her passionately before doing the same to Junior.

“Where do you want us next?” asked Terrance, looking at Valerie.

She points at the bed with her head before getting up to lay on it. The men followed, each sitting on one side of her: Junior on her right and Terrance on her left. She pulls the both men into a big kiss before moving each one to one of her breasts, in which both begin to suck, nibbling a bit.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” she moans, rubbing their heads.

Terrance begins kissing down to her pussy, rubs his hands over the lace as he looks up at Junior, who is now fondling her other breast with his hand.

“Baby, can you blow him for me as I devour you?” he asks, tracing Junior’s shoulder.

She nods as she gently removes him from her breasts, lies down on the bed, with her legs opening up for him as she ushers Junior into standing up in front of her. As she pulls down his underwear, his hard length bounces out, making her let out a gasp.

“Oh, you been waiting…” she says, wrapping her hands around it, gently stroking and placing kisses on it, making him close his eyes and groan at the sensation.

“Eyes on me, Junior.” she said, sliding her underwear down as Terrance removes it, propping her legs on his shoulders before licking her slit, making her flinch.

“You’re tense, huh?” he asked, looking at her before sucking her clit.

She lets out a few moans before engulfing Junior’s length into her mouth, stroking the rest that couldn’t fit. She places one of his hands on one of her breasts, signaling him to fondle it as Terrance inserts two fingers inside, gently plumping in and out of her.

The sounds of Junior’s moaning, Valerie’s gagging, and Terrance’s slurping fills the room as both Junior and Valerie feel their release building. Valerie pushes Terrance’s head down deeper as she gently massages Junior’s balls to add to the feeling.

Just as Junior was almost close, she releases his length from her mouth, watching it move up and down as the latter catches his breath.

“Is this what y’all meant?” he asks, falling next to her on the bed.

“Mmmhmm.” is all she could get out as Terrance sped up his pace, rubbing her clit while licking it.

After letting out a few more moans, she came very hard, wetting more of his face with her essence as she shooked under his hold. Letting out a pop! sound, he gets up, wiping his face before sucking off his fingers. He leans down and kisses her, biting her lip in the process.

“What’s our next order?” he asks.

“I want…I want you to fuck him.” she said exhaustively, tapping Junior’s leg.

Junior laughed before turning on his stomach, getting on his knees as Terrance retreats to retrieve a condom. Valerie looks up at him, who looks down at her.

“Remember: just breathe and don’t lost your balance…..unless the pain doesn’t simmer.” she said, touching his face.

He nods as Terrance returned, with a condom wrapped around his length and lube. He fixes his position, placing a pillow under his chest as he arched Junior’s back a little more. Lightly slapping his ass, he squeezes some lube on his hole, spreading it with his tip, watching it clench a few times.

“You begging for me real bad, huh..” he mumbled, gently poking at it.

“Don’t do that…..you’re gonna make me cum quickly.” Junior whines, trying to pull away, but receives a hard slap on his right cheek, making him let out a muffled yelp.

“Fix your posture. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Junior obliged, moving back towards him as he lined himself at his entrance. Holding his hips with one hand as the other inserts his length inside carefully, they both let out a loud groan, with Terrance leaning himself over him.

“Breathe, breathe, breathe.” whispered Valerie into Junior’s ear, rubbing his back as he let outs harsh breaths.

Terrance moved his hips a bit to fill in more, making Junior tense up bit. He pulls out, kneels down and begins to trace his hole with his tongue, giving him good licks, making him press backwards.

“Fuck…” mumbled Junior, not used to feeling this amazing pleasure, but it being done by a man. Boy, he hopes Hen never finds out about this.

Valerie gently kisses his back, locking eyes with Terrance, who is very focused on stretching Junior out. He stops, pushes him back gently, and re-inserts himself, this time fully inside. He begins a canny pace, smacking his ass with his pelvis.

“Is that the best you can do?” he asks, looking slightly at Terrance, who has an animality look on his face.

“You want that?” he replied, smiling with an evil smirk.

“…do it. Don’t be a pussy in front of her.”

Valerie’s jaw drops, holding in a laugh as she removed herself from his back. Oh, he definitely set something off in him because suddenly, Terrance grabs his neck to pull him towards his chest and begins going at a rapid pace, thrusting very hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” is all he could get out, feeling Terrance squeezing his neck hard, grunting loud in his ear.

“That’s it. Submit. To. Me!” he says, shoving Junior down to the bed, continuing his brutal pounding.

Junior’s moans fill the room as he fills himself building up again, clenching around him.

“It’s too much, please.” he whines, trying to push him back but gets his arms put in a hold, making him let out an evil laugh.

“Nah, be a good toy and taking it like a good one should.” he says, slapping his ass a few times.

As Terrance gives him a few more thrusts, he pulls out, preventing him and his own release and falls into the chair. Junior winces, once again being denied as the men catch their breaths. A few moments later, he gets flipped onto his back, feeling a condom being wrapped around his member.

“What’s next?” he asks weakly.

“Turn on your side.” said Valerie, pecking his nose.

He does so, placing a pillow under him as Valerie lays in front, her back facing him. She grabs one of his hands and places it on her rib as she moves the other one under her leg, hooking it. She takes his length and inserts it in her pussy, both letting out groans.

“Match his pace. Don’t go too rough.” she said, moving his hand to her neck.

Junior begins thrusting his hips in a snappily motion, his balls slapping her lips. She lets out a slew of moans and gasps, gently rubbing her clit. He squeezes her neck tightly, picking up his pace.

“You like that? Being fucked in front of your husband after he just got done fucking me?” he whispered, earning a audible moan from her as he locked eyes with Terrance, who is stroking him.

She turns her head to passionately make out with him, with him continuing his thrusts. Unknownst to them, Terrance gets up, lays behind Junior, and re-enters from behind, making him groan and stop.

“Nah, don’t stop. Come on.” he slaps his ass. “Continue.” as he thrusts into him.

Junior resumes, matching each thrust as he hits Valerie’s sweet spot consistently, making her let out some tearful moans. Terrance smirks, placing wet kisses all over his shoulder.

“There you go….fighting back a bit.”

“You close?”

“No. You?”

“Almost. She can’t stop clenching around me.”

“She’s close too.”

Valerie laughs hoarsely as both pick up their pace, sloppily thrusting into each other. After a few more thrusts, the trio all cum simultaneously, with Valerie shaking and squirting under Junior as both him and Terrance fill up their condoms. All catching their breaths as Terrance removes himself from Junior, with the latter removing himself from Valerie.

“..We..we’re not done, are we?” asked Junior, looking between the couple.

Both shake their heads, making Junior chuckle weakly. Terrance gets up, grabs a sip of wine before removing his semen filled condom, tossing it in the trash. He picks up Valerie and places her on top of Junior, gently reinserting his length inside of her.

“Fuck.” she whined.

“Hold still.” said Terrance, fixing their position.

Then, he inserts himself inside her, making her groan and shoot up as Junior gasps, not knowing they were both gonna fuck her inside at once.

“Wait, doesn’t this hurt?” Junior asked in a worrying tone.

She looks down at him, tears in her eyes. She shakes her head, smiling at him with a mesmerized expression. Oh my god, we broke her he said in his mind.

“No. He just remembered a fantasy I told him about.” she said, before turning to give him a kiss.

Terrance kisses her back before turn her forward, pushing her down before he started to pound her, earning some vulgar sounds from her that mixed in with her wetness. Junior watched, seeing her enjoy being dominated as she’s on top of him.

“Hey.” he said, lightly slapping Junior’s face. “Just because I’m up doing my job, doesn’t mean you can sit back and enjoy. Start moving those hips.”

Junior obliged, pumping his hips upwards as she wrapped her hands around his neck, keeping her balance up. Terrance grabs her hair, making her arch her back.

“Look at you. Taking me and him very hungrily. You wanted this to happen, didn’t you?”

“Mmhm.” she said, earning a hard slap on her ass, making her yelp.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, not a sound. So let me ask you again: you wanted this to happen, didn’t you?” he asks again, giving her deep thrusts.

“Yes! Ever since that night he was watching us!” she responded, squeezing Junior’s neck, making him moan.

“Look at you two. Both sharing me while all over each other. You think I wouldn’t notice?”

“No. No, sir.” said Junior, grunting as he feels himself getting ready to release again. Terrance smirks, leaning forward to topple over Valerie, speeding up his pace.

“Good job, toy. Now help me make her cum again.” he says, kissing on her neck.

The men continuously hit Valerie’s sweet spot, making her clench and moan loudly as she eagerly attempts to keep up, but failing as her body started to tense up.

Junior pulls out, removing his semen filled condom to stroke himself, doing this until his expletive filled release came, shooting on him and Valerie’s thighs. Terrance’s luscious release follows behind, releasing his load deeply inside, making Valerie meet her euphoric release a few moments later.

The trio kisses each other one last time before collapsing on the bed, catching their breaths. After a few minutes, Terrance get up and walks out of the room, leaving the door open to hear water running from the bathroom. Coming back in with a bowl and towels, he gently wipes both of them, getting rid of the sweat and fluids that are all over their bodies before doing it to himself. Valerie looks at Junior, who begins to fall asleep.

“….we wore your ass out, huh?” asked Valerie, rubbing his face.

“Mmhm.” he said, slowly falling asleep.

Terrance lays next to her, kissing her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her.

“How you feel?” he asks.

“Pleased. Exhausted. A little worried she may have heard us.”

“She won’t know. And he’ll forget when I erase the memories. This only happened between just the two of us.”

“Or three if you wanna be technical.”

Terrance smiles before kissing her, falling asleep as Valerie looked at the door. She thought to herself what if she was actually listening and is planning to snitch, but erased it from her mind, thinking we can say she was very drunk and probably imagined it before falling asleep.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A/N II: Its been a really rough week, so I’m glad I finished this. Before someone asks, no. Black Velvet did not play in Foe. I just don’t know the name of the song Hen puts on after I’m New Here.

Part 4 (the Finale) will be out mid-month as I am too depressed from the elections to write it. Stay safe everyone, especially the ones living in the red states/about to suffer if you international. And go to hell if you voted for him!

Taglist: @urfavblackbimbo @blyffe @literallegendicon @kimuzostar @aaronpdaily

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