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anashins · 5 months

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Snow in London

Pairing: idol!Jaehyun x escort!reader

Genre: fluff, romance, smut

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: Jaehyun has to spend Christmas alone in London and figures that with money, you can buy anything - even company to make him feel less alone.

A/N: Merry Christmas guys - this is my gift for you! Have happy holidays and enjoy! (You might get confused as the story unfolds, but keep reading, it will all make sense, trust me)

A bottle of wine and an escort.

If two weeks ago someone had told Jaehyun that this was how he was going to spend this year’s Christmas, he would have called that person a fool. Usually, he spent it among his family, friends and members, and everyone knew. Very cozy and comfortable, only with the people closest to him.

Now, Jaehyun himself was the person who looked like a fool.

It was Christmas Eve and he was sitting in a hotel room on the other side of the world - London, to be exact - far away from all the people dear to him. If only he hadn’t accepted this campaign shoot for this certain luxury brand, he would be home by now, fast asleep after having enjoyed good food with his family.

But fate had other things in store for him when it was announced this morning that all domestic and international flights were canceled due to the heavy snowstorm that would last a couple of days. Jaehyun knew it was his responsibility as a global ambassador, but he had really begged to not accept this job in case something like this would happen. It didn’t usually snow in the UK, so his team had just shrugged his concerns off.

But somehow, he had sensed it, and now he was locked up here with nowhere else to go.

When Jaehyun looked out of the window, he saw white everywhere with not a single vehicle passing by in the streets, and the snow wouldn’t stop falling. He doubted he could take a flight tomorrow or the day after that. Or the day after that even. It was frustrating.

With a ‘thud’, he let himself fall back onto the bed. At least he was in a high class hotel close to Hyde Park and the staff had invited him to go to the bar with them, but Jaehyun wasn’t in the mood for company now. Well, at least not the company of so many people he didn’t know well enough.

Why an escort then?

Jaehyun didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve entirely alone, but he also didn’t want the commitment of having the person around until the next morning with the obligation of getting something physical out of it. He would rather leave it open. Or even worse, he didn’t want to take the flight back with that person and work together again depending on how this night would end. So that was why the staff was ruled out and the hotel employees as well just because they were short handed during the holidays.

Jaehyun just didn’t want to be alone on Christmas Eve and he had the money for it.

The fact that he had indeed never done something like this before was mirrored in how his heart jumped the moment he heard a knock on the door. Luckily, it was just room service bringing the wine he had ordered shortly before, leaving him all alone again with a simple “Merry Christmas”.

If this Christmas Eve was going to turn merry for Jaehyun, he also didn’t know yet.

The second time he heard a knock, he opened the door even more nervous to find you standing in front of him whose picture he had only briefly seen on the website this morning.

The first thing he noticed about you was how much prettier you were in real life. If he were being honest, you didn’t look like your photos at all as in fact, he found you more beautiful in person and with your bright aura, his nervousness directly dropped a bit.

Perhaps, he had also not looked at the photos properly, because he wanted to leave it open whether there would be intimate contact at all, and there were not many working today. In the end, he preferred any company over none at all and this was a time where he couldn’t be picky much since he also didn’t want to reduce a person to their outward appearance only and wanted to talk to them too.

So Jaehyun was pleasantly surprised to see you, a pretty, young woman with a nice energy, standing in front of him.

The second thing he noticed was that you must be cold, because despite your body being covered in a thick black puffer jacket and a pair of black pants that ended in boots, there were remnants of snow everywhere on your body, and since the flakes were melting by room temperature, it looked like you had just run through the rain with your face uncovered also.

For a special day with special services, if Jaehyun were to be blunt, you were dressed and styled quite ordinary - which he didn’t mind at all though since you were only going to stay in the room anyway, he had dropped the fact beforehand! He just couldn’t help but to notice the great difference in the sexy clothings and heavy makeup you had worn on your online pis and the way you were styled now.

But he’d rather have you warm and cozy than sexy during such a weather, he wasn’t one to pay much attention to outer clothing anyway when most of the time he was wearing lounge pants himself. Actually Jaehyun felt really relieved since he also hadn’t dressed up much for this occasion, wearing his slacks and black shirt at most.

“Good evening. It’s cold outside, come in.”

Jaehyun opened the door widely, and the third thing he noticed about you was how good you smelled when you walked past him with a light,

“Good evening. Thank you.”

You opened your jacket and Jaehyun, like the gentleman he was, helped you get out of it and hung it up on the wardrobe. When he turned back around, he observed you standing in the room, wrapping your arms around yourself and trembling with your light clothes since your upper body was only covered in a blouse.

“Didn’t you use the shuttle I ordered?” he asked.

“You ordered a shuttle for me? Oh…” You shook your head. “I used the subway and walked all the way from Oxford Circus to here.”

That was why you looked like you had walked through the snowstorm - because you literally did. “I paid for a shuttle service straight to the hotel too, no?” Jaehyun was sure this had been listed on the bill as an extra service for which he had already paid.

“I didn’t get the notice, she didn’t tell me. Only the hotel, floor and room number. There are no cars or services running, so….”

Suddenly, Jaehyun felt bad. He assumed ‘she’ was the operator in the company, something like a manager. “Take off your clothes.”

“What?”

He was confused that you had turned confused, so you were looking at each other, equally puzzled. “I want to hang them up, so you don’t have to walk around with wet clothes and risk getting a cold. And I want you to take a shower please, to warm yourself up.”

You blinked a few times, but then replied, “Oh! No, I was only taken aback a bit…”

“Don’t worry.” Jaehyun finally realized what had run through your head. “I’m not like that.”

Even though you only nodded as a reply, he clearly saw how relieved you were, and he started questioning whether you knew what you were actually here for as you appeared a bit insecure about this entire situation. Even though it might not happen right away or at all, the job description was very clear and you weren’t a newbie if he had to believe the website. But Jaehyun shrugged it off as this was a special circumstance and day you might not get into often as well.

Jaehyun then sent you to the bathroom with information on where to find the towels and a bathrobe. He just couldn’t live with the thought of having a woman come over despite the weather and dealing with the consequences.

Rummaging through his luggage, he found a simple white long sleeve and checkered lounge pants that must be way too big for you, but he figured it was better than leaving you in a bathrobe or making you wear your own clothes again before they had fully dried.

When you walked out of the bathroom approximately half an hour later, with semi-dried hair, a bathrobe way too big for you and wearing no makeup at all anymore, the fourth thing Jaehyun noticed about you was that you were an ordinary young woman who he could have also met on the streets or in a club, not someone he paid to spend a few hours with.

And if he were to say it out loud, he wouldn’t want you to misunderstand this. There was no negative connotation with this thought, especially not in regard to your job which services he was making use of himself. It just dawned on him that you were two ordinary people in private, alone on Christmas Eve.

In the end, when it came down to loneliness, you were both the same.

“You’re so kind to me,” you stated when Jaehyun handed you his clothes.

“I figured someone who has to work on Christmas Eve deserves more kindness than usual.”

“It was okay,” you simply stated and returned to the bathroom while it echoed, “There weren’t too many rude customers today, thank god.”

Jaehyun tilted his head in question over this cryptic statement. Had you just used plural? Oh my, how many customers did you take in a day? Was Christmas Eve really that busy? But then he decided to brush it off. It was none of his business anyway, although it remained in the back of his head, itching him a bit.

While he walked over to the table where he had also already prepared two glasses and opened the wine, you left the bathroom again, now fully dressed in his clothes.

Jaehyun attempted really hard not to look up and to stare, so he tried to catch a glimpse or two from the corner of his eyes while filling the wine glasses. Under any other circumstances, this would have been an awkward first date, and even though it wasn’t since he paid for your company, pretending to have it be one made it a little bit easier for him, he had to admit.

“Wine?” he offered, and he perceived in the way the look in your eyes changed that you very much welcomed this ice breaker.

“Thank you.”

Alcohol was not only very popular for making your tongue loose, which was why, two glasses of wine for each of you later, your outer clothes had become very loose as well and eventually landed on the floor next to the bed.

“You know,” you murmured in between kisses before Jaehyun slid his tongue along your jaw and only came to a stop with it by the side of your neck, which made you giggle. “I usually don’t do this the first time I meet someone… At least not directly.”

Jaehyun pricked up his ears, but didn’t stop nibbling on the soft skin. “Oh? But then, what do you usually do upon first meeting someone?”

“Usually we go out, to a restaurant or something. And if the vibe is right, one thing leads to another…”

Of course he knew about the fact that high quality escort services didn’t come with short lived physical intimacy only. But there was only so much he was able to do in such a situation, and now he was truly wondering if he should have ordered a room service meal first since he hadn’t even been fixated on physical contact only. It was his first time too, so he still felt a bit lost - and guilty he wasn’t able to offer more.

But he was just so attracted to you which was even more fueled by the bit of alcohol in his system now, and upon the first time he had leaned in to kiss you only moments before this, he knew you felt the same about him. Which was good! After all, he couldn’t imagine getting intimate with someone who had to pretend to like him for his sake and for the money.

“I would have taken you out first too, but during this snowstorm…”

He didn’t come to end his sentence, because you cupped his face and pulled him up, so that you were facing each other again, and you reassured him with your thumb stroking tenderly over his warm cheek, “I don’t mind this time.”

“Good.”

And with that, the last word was spoken just as the last pieces of clothing, your underwear, found their way onto the floor too.

When Jaehyun was running his fingers through your hair, caressing the sensitive skin on your shoulder with his warm lips, he noticed that, even after showering, you still smelled as good as in the moment when you first had walked through the door. You weren’t wearing any heavy perfume or another scent. This was just you, the natural you. He liked it.

You were sitting on his lap and held onto his strong upper arms for support as he went lower with his lips to the area around your cleavage. Your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip when he bit into your nipple, making you gasp eventually. You felt him smile against your breast, and, almost as if he wanted to apologize, he licked over the spot and then gently placed a kiss on it.

When he dedicated his mouth to your other mound though, he didn’t use his teeth anymore, but only his tongue. And a few moments later, you let your head roll back as he sucked on nibbled on that spot, causing sensations to run all through your body and your thighs to clasp around him even stronger as though you wanted more of him too. And you actually did, oh how much you did!

But a familiar tone made you both turn your head to the desk simultaneously where your phone was lightening up and vibrating. Who would interrupt you at such a time?

“Just ignore it,” you told him, and he nodded deliberately.

“Very well.”

He grabbed you by your bum and with a gasp, you then were flipped around and fell backwards onto the mattress with a giggle. When your phone had exactly stopped ringing, you couldn't tell in the end, because you long had Jaehyun’s fingers inside of you.

What he thought when he was pleasuring you with his hand, wasn’t only how hot you looked as a writhing and whiny mess under him from whom he couldn’t avert his eyes, but also how fun it was, because there was a smile showing on your face every now and then.

Jaehyun usually never did one night stands, though there had been a handful of ones throughout the years. But these girls, he had talked to before, even in a drunken state only. That he just requested the company of someone and they would actually match so well from the first moment on like with you, he hadn’t expected at all.

His fingers were drenched when he pulled them out of you after noticing how tight you had gotten around him due to your arousal, but he was determined to prolong the act. After all, you had the whole night and he could still sleep on the plane the next day - if they would run again - which he doubted. And a part of him already thought further and made plans to book you instead again.

“Look at me.”

Jaehyun didn’t know why exactly, but he just wanted that. It made him feel warm around his chest. And he could need a little warmth right now when it was so cold and lonely outside. He hoped you did too.

Your eyes were indeed warm when you looked at each other, so he couldn’t help but lift his free hand and brush some streaks of your hair out of your face. There were worse ways to spend Christmas, he had to admit. Actually, this Christmas had turned really nice at this point.

Jaehyun got pulled out of his thoughts though when he felt the palms of your hands in his nether regions, first stroking along his inner thighs, then wrapping around his full length. No way this was happening. The unexpected sensation made him fold, and he had a really hard time propping his weight up against his elbows to hold himself in position when it all felt so good.

“You like that?” you whispered into his ear with a low voice that turned him on so much.

“Just keep going and I won’t be able to guarantee anything.”

With a brush over his tip, you wiped away his droplet of precum. You then retracted your hand to lead your stained fingers to your mouth and slid them in without breaking eye contact with him. This way you let him know that he nevertheless would end up very lucky this christmas.

Even your phone vibrating again couldn’t interrupt the mood since you both quietly agreed to ignore it before he reached for a condom on the nightstand to prepare himself. There still were a few hours of Christmas Eve left, a few hours where you could still try out stuff. Right now, you both just needed to get it off.

Jaehyun wondered if there was something you absolutely wouldn’t do or liked to do, but there was no room to think about it much anyway when you were lying under him, completely naked, a light sheen of sweat covering most parts of your body, and your facial expression welcoming him with your lips slightly parted.

Could he imagine a better gift for his situation? Absolutely not.

He parted your thighs with his knees when he sat in front of you and guided himself in. It was easy with almost no strength required, that was how wet he had already gotten you through his fingerwork. Grabbing your thighs to your left and right, Jaehyun slid you along the mattress closer to him so that you were eventually fully sheathed inside and stuck skin on skin.

You spread out your hands when he started to pull out, then pushed in again, and with every time, he added a little more force. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling as your fingers entangled with the sheet to your left and right, and you suddenly weren’t mad at your parents anymore for leaving you alone on Christmas, so that you had decided to still work and practically spend it with a stranger. You could imagine having a worse celebration than this one right here.

It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you weren’t sure it had ever been this good or if it were only the circumstances and you were just so into each other - which was so rare! But in the end, it didn’t really matter. If the first blind encounter was already this good, there for sure would be a second one!

You felt your climax nearing the moment he picked up his speed, and although you were able to cum like this, you still appreciated that he changed the position from kneeling in front of you to lying on top of you. It felt good to wrap your legs around his middle, and feel him, every stroke, no matter how hard or long, even more intense.

He was breathing into your ear, and at one point even kissed your earlobe, then your cheek. It was intimate and cute at the same time, and he eventually hovered over you with his face, so you spread out your arms to welcome him with a kiss on your mouth, and then hugged him close to your body.

His breathing turned irregular and it wasn’t in sync with his thrusts anymore, that was how you could foretell that at any second, he would cum. With your fingers grabbing into his hair, partly gently, partly determined, you signalized him that it was alright to let go, and that you would follow too.

As though he had been holding in until you gave such kind of approval, he came the moment he slid back inside you with a low groan right beside your ear. You witnessed his breathing turning regular and slower and him gaining back full control of his body, because he did not directly pull out of you after he was done.

Instead, he continued moving for as long as he was still able to and eventually got you off with his hands so that you shook in his arms and he was now the one having to hold you through your climax.

“Best Christmas Eve ever,” you eventually breathed when he let go of you and rolled to one side of the now messy bed. “That was a nice gift.”

“Right back at you,” Jaehyun said.

With a look at you, he observed how you tried to grab the blanket to wrap it around your naked body to keep yourself warm. He knew a better method though.

Jaehyun moved to your side of the bed and laid down, but making sure to have closed his arms around you before to pull you down with him right onto his chest. For a moment, he was worried that it was too much and you would free yourself again. But as he felt your muscles relaxing and you eventually put an arm around him too, he was very much relieved.

“Why are you spending Christmas alone?” you eventually asked him after a few moments of silence. “She didn’t tell me.”

Ah, so details truly weren’t passed on upon request. “My flight back home got canceled due to the snowstorm, but I didn’t want to be all alone.” Jaehyun didn’t know whether he could ask this question back, but he did nonetheless. He figured if you didn’t want to or weren’t allowed to share private info, you would tell him immediately.

“Oh, you wanted to spend it among your family too but they live abroad?” He wanted to explain that he lived abroad too, but your answer caught his attention more, “My parents suddenly decided they would rather spend two weeks on a cruise in the Caribbean sea instead of celebrating with me, so I was alone too.”

“I understand that.” If he would have been left alone on Christmas, since it was a holiday spent among the family in the UK, he would have rather worked too, Jaehyun thought to himself. “That’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah, that’s why.”

It was cold outside, but their bodies and hearts were warm, not only because of them sharing their physical warmth, but mostly because they were not alone anymore.

So it was an unspoken agreement that their encounter wouldn’t end here. Or at night. Probably only the next morning. And even then, you both wondered if it actually would when it felt this good.

“Should I order room service?” Jaehyun asked instead.

You nodded with excitement. “Actually, I’m quite hungry.”

“Yeah, me too.” He laughed and stretched out his arm to reach for the phone, but you both heard a knock on the door before he could call anyone.

“Did you already order something before?” you asked out of curiosity, but Jaehyun shook his head.

“Maybe someone from my team?”

You frowned. “Team…?”

But Jaehyun didn’t see it as he had already jumped out of bed to throw on some light clothes so that it wouldn’t get that embarrassing to open the door to one of the staff.

Standing in front of him was no familiar staff at all though.

“Good evening, here I am.”

Jaehyun was flabbergasted. Had it been a glass of wine too much? Because in front of him stood the woman whose exact pictures he had seen online this morning, he now remembered clearly. Not only was she wearing the exact same clothes, but also the same heavy makeup. No doubt, he wasn’t dreaming or imagining.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” she continued. “The shuttle you ordered couldn’t get through, I was waiting for so long. I ordered a taxi from Oxford Circus instead and that eventually got stuck. I had to walk the rest of the way, but now I’m here… What is it? Don’t you want to invite me in?”

“Pardon me… what?!”

On the other side of the room, you had finally picked up the phone call from your friend who had just called for the third time.

“Hey! You can’t imagi-... What do you mean? How can he still be waiting when I am currently with him? Yes, the guy you set me up on a blind date with, he’s here,” you defended yourself over the line, then paused. “What do you mean? I am in the room on the fifth floor, the exact room you told me.”

You looked over to the man who had just closed the door again and your eyes locked with undefinable gazes.

“This is the fourth floor.”

Then, you both asked the other as realization dawned at the same time,

“Who are you?”

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun fanfiction #nct #nct 127 #nct smut #nct x you #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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blackhairedjjun · 1 month

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alright i have an imagine scenario right now:

you're an employee at a jewelry company, nowhere near rich enough to buy the products you market. you're at your company's flagship store for the launch of its new jewelry line, and you've got none other than famous model choi yeonjun as its brand ambassador. he arrives with his hair slicked back, wearing a pristine white suit and sporting a few key pieces from the line; though he gives the cameras his best smoldering looks, you aren't particularly impressed. you've met enough rich assholes at your job to last you a lifetime, and yeonjun doesn't seem much different. you watch him pose for the photographers and chat with other guests for a few moments, but shift your mind back to work.

he talks to you exactly once, to ask where the bathroom is. at least he was polite to you, unlike a lot of the VIPs you've met.

the next day is a weekend and you spent it at the plant market, looking at freshly potted flowers about to bloom and seedlings of vegetables ready to be cared for. you might not be able to afford the fancy necklaces and rings that you sell, but at least you have the luxury of growing your own veggies and flowers in your tiny apartment balcony.

you were not expecting it to rain that day, but it does. it's a downpour crashing down from the sky, and though you consider running for it, you're also weighed down by two bags of plants in both hands. so you stand under one of the market tents next to a row of tomato plants, waiting for the rain to stop. it doesn't.

just then you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see a young man in a hoodie and cap, sunglasses perched on top of his head. he's carrying an oversized umbrella, large enough for two. "um, hi, excuse me," he says, stumbling over his words, "you were the employee at the jewelry store yesterday, right? do you want help? we can share my umbrella..." he glances down at your bags of plants, then back at you.

it takes a while for you to recognize him until it hits you: choi yeonjun. three things run through your mind at once: first, you're impressed that he managed to remember you when all you did was tell him where the bathroom is. second, you feel a pang of shame for assuming he's a rich asshole when he's making such a kind offer to you. and third, even in a worn-out black hoodie, he's still ridiculously handsome.

you step into the umbrella with him; you feel his fingers brush against yours as he takes one of your bags to carry. "thank you," you tell him. he smiles at you and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

it doesn't feel so bad to be wrong about him this time.

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt drabbles #yeonjun drabbles #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #txt imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun soft thoughts #yeonjun soft hours #bhj: violet's works

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lightvixxen · 9 months

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His housewife.

I GOT THE IDEA OF BEING SPENCERS LIL HOUSEWIFE AND I HAD TO WRITE ABOUT IT

summary: after Spencer has been away on a weeklong case you decide to make him dinner, which leads to him calling you his housewife and absolutely refusing to admit it.

WC: 2278

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI, this is pretty vanilla ngl, kinda soft dom! Spencer Reid, housewife kink, breeding kink (How did that happennnn), lingerie.

You hummed around the kitchen, you looked at the time and smiled to yourself. It was 5:30pm, meaning that in thirty minutes your husband, Spencer Reid, would walk through the apartment's door. If they weren’t pulled away on a last minute case. And you were praying that wouldn’t be the case tonight.

The BAU had already been gone on a week-long case, and they just got back last night. You barely got to spend any time with your husband before the poor thing fell asleep on your couch. You missed him desperately, it was always hard, with his job. There was always the looming possibility that he would be pulled away from you for weeks on end, leaving you to your own devices.

Though for tonight, you had made a nice dinner,making use of the recipe you had gotten from Rossi when you and Spencer had married. You smiled to yourself, realizing just how much of a housewife you looked like. You worked down at a local coffee shop, Spencer's salary was surprisingly enough to keep you both comfortable but you needed something to fill the lonely days he wasn’t with you. Besides, extra money never hurt anyone, you used your paycheck for luxury items for both you and spence, while he went to keep you in the apartment.

You set the table then walked to the living room, which was closest to the door and you waited for Spencer's return. You laughed at yourself when you realized that you were akin to a dog waiting for its owner to return but that's how you felt.

The second you heard the door unlock you were jumping up from your spot on the couch, the book in your hands immediately forgotten, Spencer wasn’t even through the door before you were pouncing on him, You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as you kissed him senseless.

“Well- mmf- Hello- mm~ to you too.” Spencer's arms held you up as he walked through the threshold of your apartment, kicking the door shut.

“Missed you.” you mumbled, fingers tangling in his wild hair, you captured him in a desperate kiss, making sure you hadn’t fallen asleep waiting for him to arrive.

“Missed you too, my darling.” Spencer smiled softly, letting you love on him, it was definitely welcomed, especially after being away from you for so long. As he breathed the air around him in he noticed something,

“Did you cook dinner?” You nodded excitedly,

“I finally put the recipe Rossi gave to us at the wedding to good use! I swear I need a whole cookbook of that man's recipes-” You continued to ramble as Spencer put you down, his arms growing tired, you took hold of one of his hands as you led him into the kitchen.

Spencer couldn't help but look at you lovingly, you had been home all day, run to the grocery store because he knew you did not have the ingredients for the recipe Rossi gave to you on hand. And then, you slaved over the stove for god knows how long to make him dinner for when he got home.

He couldn’t help the flutter in his chest when he sat down at the table with you, a plate full of food already waiting for him. It was so domestic and he absolutely adored it.

“My little housewife…” he mumbled, before digging into the food you had presented before him, moaning at the taste, coming home to his drop dead gorgeous wife jumping into his arms, then eating the delicious food she prepared is definitely what he needed after the week he had.

You looked up at him from the food you had been eagerly waiting to actually get your hands on and eat,

“What was that babe?” you asked, you had caught a little of him said, ‘my’ and ‘house’ being the only things you managed to makeout, Spencer could be extremely quiet when he wanted.

Spencer looked up from his respectful plate and shook his head,

“Hm? Nothing, it’s not important.”

“No, no, no, what did you say?”

Spencer smiled sheepishly before getting the brilliant idea of stuffing his face full of food to avoid admitting to you that he had called you his housewife, he wasn’t sure what your reaction would be, despite being with you for five years and him being a profiler it was always hard to gauge your reactions. He blames the fact he’s wildly in love with you, it acts as some sort of shield from his profiling skills. And he was just too fucking embarrased to actually admit it.

You huff realizing you're not gonna get it out of him while he has something to change the subject with.

After dinner you had decided to watch a movie, cuddled into Spencer's side on the couch. You had put on a horror movie, which you definitely were not paying attention to, and you doubt Spencer was either, you were just basking in the knowledge you were next to each other, instead of being miles apart.

You glanced down at his watch realizing it was close to midnight.

“Shit, it’s almost midnight.” You said, moving to get up. Spencer moves his arm that was slung over your shoulder.

“Gonna get ready for bed?” he asks you, and you nod, standing up.

“Yeah but I'm probably not gonna fall asleep for another few hours.” Your husband nods in understanding,

“I’ll be in there in a little bit” You nod again smiling, leaning down to peck Spencer on the lips before you move towards your shared bedroom. You were in the bathroom that connected to your bedroom when Spencer came in. You were brushing your hair, not wanting to deal with the unbearable knots that form in the morning.

You picked out a silky babydoll nightgown, it was purple, and just so happened to be Spencer's favorite nightgown that you owned. You were going to get what Spencer said out of him whether he likes it or not.

“Hey Spence…” you call, getting his attention, he was already in pajamas reading a book in the bed, like usually is.

“Yes?” he calls back, turning his attention away from the book he had in his hands. Before dropping it to the side entirely. “Really? The nightgown?” He asks, eyes scanning you up and down.

“What do you mean the nightgown…?” Spencer smirks at you.

“Sweetheart, you only wear that nightgown on our anniversary or when you really want to get something out of me.”

“Well…not my fault it works getting information out of you.” You cross your arms under your breasts, the nightgown already accentuates your curves, along with your breasts, other than the color that was the reason why it was Spencer's favorite, it showed off his favorite parts of you.

He groaned when he realized what you were doing.

“That's why it works, you're the definition of temptation when you wear it.”

You smirk, walking towards the bed while swaying your hips, Spencer's eyes were trained on you, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted out of him. You slowly slid yourself onto his lap, making sure you kept eye contact with him. Once you were fully settled onto his lap Spencer attempted to put his hands on your waist but you caught his wrists before he could.

“Nu-uh no touching, you get to touch when you tell me what you said earlier.” you tell him, and he groaned again.

“Evil woman, you know how to exactly get what you want from me, don’t you?” You smile at him, “Spill it, doctor Reid”

“God you are evil.” Spencer smiles. “I uh- I called you my housewife…just you cooking, waiting for me to come home…it's so domestic, the thought just slipped out.” You hummed, leaning down to kiss up his neck, leaving bruises in your wake, you released his wrists in favor of balancing yourself on his chest. His hands went to rest on your waist.

“That's it? Not really embarrassing.”

“You weren’t even meant to hear it.” Spencers hands moved from your waist to your ass, and buried his face in your neck. “I really should burn this nightgown, you get the upper hand too easily.”

You gasp when you feel his hands squeeze your ass “I’m more surprised you haven’t ripped it yet-!” you squeal when he changes the position, swapping you so you're on your back and he’s towering over you, he places his knee so it's in between your thighs.

“I’ve definitely thought about it…” He mumbles into your neck, his hands sliding the bottom of the nightgown up to bunch around your hips, his knee presses into your center, you have no doubts he can feel a damp spot in your panties.

“Spencer…” you whimpered, feeling his lips trace the column of your neck, he liked to take his time with you, especially after you decided to tease him.

He tugged the nightgown down to free your breasts, thanking the heavens that it didn’t take too much effort. He moved his head so he was leveled with your breasts, his mouth wrapping around one of your nipples. You shivered at the sensation. Spencer was obsessed with your boobs, he could spend hours just sucking on them if you’d let him.

His tongue circled your nipple, and his other hand came up to pinch and pull at the other, soft moans flying out of your mouth at your husband's ministrations. Spencer spent a generous amount of time on one before he moved to give his attention to the other, giving both of your breasts equal treatment.

“Spencer please, don’t tease-”

“Baby, you're the one who decided to tease me first.” He tells you, breaking away from your breasts, deciding he was done anyway. He rucks up the bottom of the nightgown, exposing the matching lace panties.

“Why do you even bother to wear panties with this thing, you should know I get them off of you the second you give me the chance” He pulls the lace down your legs, flinging them somewhere in the room.

You shrug, “I don’t know either sometimes.”

Spencer pulls down his pajama pants and boxers enough to let his cock free. And you can feel your mouth water at the sight. Spencer had probably the most perfect cock you’ve seen, He was long but not to the point it was painful, and he had the perfect amount of girth to just to make you feel full.

He drags the head of his cock through your lips, coating it in your wetness, letting it catch on your clit a few times. You throw your head back and moan.

“Been thinking about this all week, been thinking about you all week” You tell him, moaning again when he finally sinks himself into your hole.

“Yeah?” He smirks, starting to slowly thrust in and out, he would pull out enough to where just the tip stayed in you, before slamming himself back into you. “What were you thinking about sweetheart?”

“Just- fuck- this, you, your cock filling me up, filling me with your cum- Fuck!” He made a calculated thrust into your g-spot, he can find and play with your body with terrifying precision.

“Really? Want me to fill you up, darling? Maybe we should try for a baby this time, hm? That way I can just keep you plugged up all day…” Spencer's thrusts became more steady, he kept a harsh rhythm, making sure to hit your g-spot with each one.

You moaned loudly, nodding quickly.

“Spencer! Please, shit, yes!”

“Yeah? Want to make me a daddy? Be my cute, pregnant, housewife?” he asked, and you nodded, his thrusted were deep and quick, he knew exactly how to force you close to the edge, paired with the fact you refuse to get off without him, he had you hurtling to the edge quicker than you’d like.

“Spencer, I’m gonna cum, please, please!”

“I am too sweetheart, just hold it a little longer, I’m so close baby” Spencer buried his face into your neck, he got vocal when he got close, and he liked using your body as a way to muffle his own moans.

“Spence no- Wanna hear you please-” Spencer lifted his head, putting his forehead against yours, moans falling from both of your mouths.

“I’m so close, you gonna cum with me baby?” One of Spencer's hands moved in between your bodies, his thumb rubbing tight circles into your clit. You nodded, feeling the tension tightening in your stomach.

“Shit- Fuck, please hurry Spence, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it!” You threw your head back into your pillows, eyes screwed shut, focusing on not cumming too early. Spencer laced his hands through yours, hips desperately chasing his own release.

“Now, fuck, cum now!” His words were enough to have the tension in your stomach snap, your cunt spazzing and tightening around his cock. Your orgasm is what tipped him over the edge, with one last thrust Spencer buried himself deep inside you, filling you up with his cum.

After a few minutes all that was left in the room was the sound of your rugged breathing, you’re pretty sure you’ve ascended to heaven, after a week of being pent up and how powerful your orgasm was you’re confident that it killed you.

Spencer had collapsed on top of you, catching his breath. He looked up at you, resting his head on your chest. You smiled back, hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair.

“Welcome home, Spence.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #Spencer reid x afab!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #lightvixxens spencer

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chiwhorei · 7 months

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omg big bro gojo who spoils u and is so icky and gross towards u omg gojo-nii i luv him sm 🙏🙏

✧tw incest✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ✧tw incest✧

ʙɪɢ ʙʀᴏ!ɢᴏᴊᴏ who’s making big money and spends it all on you so you feel like you owe him.

He takes you back-to-school shopping before the semester starts, going into every boutique and luxury store, swiping his black card and refusing to let you hold any bags.

ʙɪɢ ʙʀᴏ!ɢᴏᴊᴏ sits in the little dressing room chair with his hands behind his head, enjoying the show you give him while trying on almost everything in the store. He makes you stand in between his knees so he can inspect the length of one of the skirts.

“I don’t know, Princess,” Gojo’s fingers brush the skin of your exposed thigh, “this one’s a little long.” You bat at your brother’s chest, turning to walk back behind the curtain.

ʙɪɢ ʙʀᴏ!ɢᴏᴊᴏ catches your wrists and shoves you back into the little dressing room. He wraps one hand over your mouth to catch your whimpering.

“On second thought,” Gojo bunches up the skirt so he can hold it around your stomach, “I like this one. You’re gonna need a pretty top to match, huh?”

#gojo saturo #gojo smut #secret.dollie #ask.dollie #thirsty.dollie #tw.incest

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hawnks · 2 months

Text

It’s not a date. You make that known, loud and clear from the outset.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gojo murmurs absently. “Whatever you say sweetie.”

It’s not a date when he picks you up from your apartment. It’s not a date when he insists you change out of your ratty sweats, or when he buys you a new outfit to his exacting standards (how did he know your measurements?).

It’s not a date when he treats you to Fancy Lunch, or when he splits his desert with you, feeding you from his own fork.

It’s not a date when he takes your hand, doesn’t let go.

And it’s definitely not a date when you finally arrive at the luxury leathergoods store, the whole point of this outing. He hovers around you, watching. He seems to be waiting on you to do something, but since he’s the one who insisted on this you’re not sure what he wants.

Finally he’s had enough of you floundering.

“Pick one,” he murmurs, eyes bright as he corals you to the collar section.

Suddenly your throat is dry as you look down the long row of them. Shiny and bold. Precious. “You want me to… pick a collar for you?”

He’s watching you, keen and hungry. He’s so close you can feel the heat of him all along your side where he’s huddled against you.

Collars have a huge significance to omegas, but you’re not quite in tune with their cultural meaning. Something about ownership, claim. You feel like you should reject this, whatever he’s trying to do here. It’s not right, and you’re not right for each other. This is a job for someone who knows what they’re doing, and besides that, someone of his social standing. You should tell him as much.

But you don’t.

You spend long minutes poring over the options. Feeling the material, testing it’s texture. Careful, you choose one with a soft inner lining, that won’t catch on the neck of his button downs, that won’t chafe when he’s running around. A subtle color, unobtrusive in his loud, bold life.

(He doesn’t ask you to put it on him, knowing, somehow that it would be too much for you, cause you to recede into your shell. He can be patient.)

It’s still not a date.

So you have no reason to be pissy when yet another alpha taps him on the shoulder, says some cheesy line about his eyes.

Gojo just snorts, rolling his eyes, not even gracing the man with a response as he pulls you along down the sidewalk, talking about what to get for dinner.

But this is the fourth time it’s happened today, and you feel like you’ve reached your limit.

You yank out of his grasp.

Immediately, he makes a grab for your hand again, scowling when you pull away, no longer acquiescing to his whims.

“What?” he demands, “What is it?”

“You could be a little more put off by it,” you say finally. It sounds petulant even to your own ears. “Like… offended, or whatever.”

It takes him a second to realize what you’re talking about.

“Comes with the territory, sweetheart,” he drawls. He’s smiling, but you can tell he’s unhappy with your peevishness. Why are you denying him? Are you disturbed by what he is, too? “Omega and all that.”

You shift on your feet, uncomfortable with your own discomfort. “How often do alphas hit on you, anyway?”

He freezes. Grins. “Are you jealous?”

You can’t even get out a denial before he’s grabbing you, spinning you both in a bear hug. “Holy shit that’s so hot, baby,” he moans.

He’s got you by the shoulders as he starts dragging you down a side street, not at all in the direction of the station you were supposed to part ways at.

“Gojo, what are you doing?”

“Making it up to you,” he says, pinching your cheek. “I think I saw a hotel this way earlier.”

#omega!gojo #cw a/b/o #I just think his eyes would roll back in his head and he would moan SO LOUD if he ever found you’re jealous :/#heinous man

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lordsukunas · 4 months

Text

best! friend sukuna headcanons

yall, ngl, he's just a red flag. he has his 'nice' moments but he's still an asshole! uh this is bound to be at least a little ooc bc lets bffr being his bff is unrealistic. anyway, pls enjoy! :3

best friend! sukuna who kicks the backs of your legs when you're standing, and then snicker when you crumple to the ground.

best friend! sukuna who skips the line and drags you along with him. he ignores the pathetic bitching and whining from the people who were in front of him. if they wanted their spot so bad, they should've got back in front of him.

best friend! sukuna who takes your phone off of the charger to charge his. and once his is on a hundred, he won't put yours back. you don't need your phone when you're with him anyway.

best friend! sukuna who insists on walking with you to the convenience store. it could be late at night or he could be in the middle of ripping someone's throat out for not giving him his damn money, and he'll still go.

best friend! sukuna who always makes sure you eat. post-sleepover and you're hungry? he's up, getting you something luxurious to eat at ten in the morning, and back at his apartment in a flash. he may have violated several traffic laws to do it, but at least you aren't starving.

best friend! sukuna who, ironically, cannot cook for shit. he always uses too much seasoning or disregards the given temperature from the recipe or doesn't bother with a crucial ingredient because he finds it nasty.

best friend! sukuna who enjoys poetry. it's something calming, peaceful, a stark contrast to all the blood he sheds daily. if you ask him for recommendations, he'll have an entire list engraved in his mind, tailored just to suit your tastes.

best friend! sukuna who eats up all of your snacks. oh, you have a bag of hot chips? he's eating them. the second he hears the rustling of a wrapper from your direction, he's holding his hand out. he knows you'll share. you always do.

best friend! sukuna who claims he only went to college because he was bored. while that does have some truth to it, isn't it convenient he's attending the same college as you? especially when he's never mentioned going or even caring about it, and the waitlist was so long.

best friend! sukuna who only cares for the things that directly interest and benefit him. he lives for him and him alone. you're lucky you've entertained for him as long as you have with that pretty smile, that annoyingly joyous, pure laugh and those endless rambles about the shows you've rewatched more times than he can count on one hand.

best friend! sukuna who hates how his breath catches when you show off a new outfit, how heat creeps up the back of his neck and warms his cheeks when you genuinely thank him, how he wants to cup your face in his massive, rough hands and press a kiss to your forehead.

best friend! sukuna who has never cared to love or be loved, not until he met you.

note: at some point i'll quit changing the way i format these posts... maybe idk. ALSOO i wanna write sumn abt yuuta to combat this post bc hes just a corny romantic n i love him ><

if u saw this w/o the cut... no u didn't.

#jjk #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna headcanons #ryomen sukuna headcanons #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #????????#maybe...#if him being a posessive asshole counts as fluff then here ig

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just-jordie-things · 7 months

Text

blue orchids and white lies - nanami kento

word count: 5.2k warnings: none ? summary: nanami's never cared much for flowers until he steps foot in her shop and suddenly he's an avid gift giver of luxurious bouquets. a/n: this is for the anon that sent me a brainrot so good i blacked out, wrote this, and will prolly receive hate in the future as it's the only nanami piece i will (probably) ever write </3 ___

The first time Nanami Kento steps foot into that tiny flower shop, he treats it more as an errand than anything else.

Shoko was throwing a little get-together later that evening- something about a creepy discovery she’d made during an autopsy that excited her, truthfully Nanami tried not to pay too much attention to the gruesome details she’d shared- and he didn’t want to show up empty handed. Utahime had already declared she was bringing the champagne, Gojo covered the catering from some fine dining restaurant Nanami had never even heard of, and it seemed as though flowers were the best he could come up with.

Still, being the thoughtful gentleman he was, he figured he might as well splurge on a well crafted bouquet, rather than the cheap banded wilting things at the grocery store.

Despite being right next door to his favorite bakery in Tokyo, he’d never had an interest to poke around the little shop. There had never really been an occasion for him to buy flowers, and he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to pick some up just to freshen up his office or dining room table. If anything, once the little bell above the door jingles to signal his entry, he feels incredibly out of place. The shop is tiny, and covered nearly ceiling to floor in bright blooms of plants he’s never even seen before.

A soft but cheery “Welcome in!” comes from the wall where there are two clerks working away with nothing short of joy on their faces. The first is cashing someone out at the register, handing over a plastic wrapped bundle of what he assumes are tulips but he’s not quite sure. The other being the one who greeted him, and-

Nanami freezes, which is out of character enough to make his face feel warm and his heart stutter in his chest. The other clerk, a woman who seemed to be playing rather than working on the bouquet before her. As quick as she was to welcome the new customer, she was just as quick to return to rearranging the bundle of purple and white flowers before her. She doesn’t even seem to notice the way Nanami stands in the doorway struck by awe as he watches her over-analyze the way each petal pushes against one another.

After a second too long of staring he realizes how creepy he’s being, and he makes a beeline for the opposite side of the shop, hoping no one around caught the way he’d shamelessly stared at a complete stranger, much less a woman simply trying to do her job. She didn’t need some random customer ogling her- he wasn’t Gojo.

He pretends to glance over the array of pre-arranged bouquets on the far wall. Pretend, as in technically he’s looking at them but he’s not really paying any attention. His mind is still buzzing with that lingering haze of love at first sight wondrous surprise. Eventually he settles for an arrangement of red roses. Roses were always a safe bet to go with, right? It’s not like Shoko screamed ‘flower lover’ in her offputting demeanor. As he’s carrying the bouquet to the front, he’s starting to second guess the whole thing.

Shoko would definitely smirk in his face for bringing such a silly gift to her party. She’d probably start laughing if he told her that he was purposefully waiting for the pretty clerk who’d greeted him to cash him out- wait, what-?

“All set?”

He tries to cover the way his eyes widen when she slides the project in her vase aside and beckons him to step up to his counter. The other counter was completely open, and he could feel the way the second clerk stared at him in bewilderment as he’d ignored the universal sign for ‘my register is open’. But Nanami is not as smooth as he’d like to be, and he can tell by the uptick in the corner of her mouth that she’s amused by his frozen stature.

“Yes- yeah, just this,” He feels like a teenager for stammering over his words, but she pays it no mind. Her movements are overly gentle as she takes the bundle of roses from his hands, treating the bouquet with the utmost care, as though it were a newborn child.

His eyes glance down the nametag on her apron quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice his sudden urge to put a name to the pretty face. (y/n). Certainly fitting. Even her apron is embroidered with little colorful threads of cartoonish flowers. Peeking at the apron of the other employee and finding nothing but a little bee pin secured next to their name tag, he wonders if she embroidered those flowers herself.

“These are beautiful, they’re going to love them,” She’s speaking again and Nanami finds himself standing up a little straighter. “Would you like them wrapped up in a special way? I have tissue and ribbon” She offers with a smile that has all of the blood rushing towards his face. He prays it’s not noticeable.

“Uh- that’s probably not… no, I don’t think so” He replies awkwardly, and she can’t help but laugh a bit at his uncertainty.

“First time buying flowers for someone?” She asks, and he watches as she pulls open a drawer beside her and plucks out a sheet of white tissue paper with just the faintest bits of glitter sparkling on it.

“That obvious?” He mumbles, and he hopes it comes across more playful than embarrassed, but deep down, Nanami knows it’s the latter.

(y/n) chuckles again, expertly crafting the tissue to fit around the bouquet in a flattering way. She makes it look easy, the way the paper folds to her will neatly. It’s a simple task, but Nanami knows if he’d tried it himself, the tissue would wrinkle and it wouldn’t look nearly as flattering as she presents it.

“You’re not the first man to pick out the first bouquet of roses he sees,” SHe teases gently. “No offense though, these are gorgeous. I have to say I really outdid myself”

“You grow them all yourself?” Nanami asks, and instantly regrets it. Is that a stupid question? Do all florists grow their own supply? He hadn’t a clue on the inner workings of the flower market.

“I sure do!” Her reply is cheerful, and the question seems a little less stupid. “There’s a greenhouse out back, but between you and me,” She lowers her voice like she’s about to tell him a grave secret. Her eyes lock on his with an intensity Nanami thinks could rival Gojo’s. “My best work comes from my own garden at home” She confesses.

Nanami can’t help the way it cracks a smile out of him, especially when she grins widely and finishes up his bouquet with a pretty string of red ribbon. Even the way she curls it with the sharp edge of a pair of shears is done to perfection. He really had to hand it to her for her craftsmanship.

He pays, making sure to tip a generous amount on the card reader, even if it is purely because she’d seemed to sweep him off his feet in less than two minutes of conversation.

“She’ll be very excited to receive these, they’re absolutely perfect” (y/n) says, handing the bouquet back to him with just as much grace as before. Nanami finds himself moving slowly, careful not to crinkle a single edge of the tissue.

“I don’t know about that, I don’t think she even likes flowers,” Nanami says as he glances over the red petals smiling up at him. The implication of the statement doesn’t hit him until a moment too late, and he looks back up at (y/n) almost too quickly, his eyes widened slightly as he tries to backtrack. “She’s a friend- a, uh, colleague sort of friend. She’s celebrating something and I… really didn’t know what to bring” It’s a lame explanation, and he finds himself fubbing the back of his neck and hoping he doesn’t come across like some slimy liar trying to cover his tracks.

“Oh! I see. I just assumed, because, you know…” (y/n) laughs softly as she gestures to the roses. Nanami follows the gesture before glancing back at her, his confusion evident. “Cause roses are usually a symbol of romance. Well, the symbol of romance, really” She explains.

His eyes widen further and she can’t help but laugh a little more. Everything about her new customer amused her, and she didn’t usually spend so much time chatting with people that weren’t trying to chat with her, but she couldn’t help but want to drag the conversation on just a little bit longer.

“Oh god,” Nanami mutters, staring down at the roses with a newfound dislike for them. “They’re going to laugh at me”

“No, no, they won’t,” (y/n) quickly shakes her head. “I’m sure your friend will think it’s sweet. She’ll understand. It’s a very kind gesture”

He can tell just by looking at her that her words are genuine, she’s not just saying them to make him feel better. Her eyes gleam as she nods at him encouragingly.

“Alright,” He sighs, giving the roses one last once over to make sure he’s not making a grave mistake. “But if they laugh I’m not getting the fancy paper next time”

Her cheeks bloom with color, next time, she repeats in her mind, and there’s an undeniable flutter in her chest at the sentiment. She nods back at him with certainty.

“If they laugh, then I’ll help you pick out an appropriate bouquet, next time” She promises, and again he can’t explain it, but Nanami knows she absolutely means it.

His smile is soft, so unbelievably velvety soft as he nods and bids her a good day before making his way back out of the shop.

That night as expected, Shoko does make a weird face when he offers up the bouquet of flowers. She gives him a tease he sees coming from a mile away- ‘Kento, flowers? I didn’t think you would know where to find these’- which makes the rest of the group laugh as well. He decides he’ll gloss over that fact on his next visit to the flower shop. ___

His second visit to the flower shop, he realizes too late that he doesn’t have a decent reason for picking up a pricey bouquet of flowers. As he wanders around aimlessly while (y/n’s) busy wrapping another pretty bundle for a customer, he thinks maybe she wouldn’t even ask what the occasion is.

“Hey,”

And then she’s standing right next to him as he’s eyeing a clump of purple bundles that smells divine. The smile on her face is one of clear recognition, and it makes his chest warm that she’d remember him, much less approach him first.

“So, what’s the special occasion this time?”

And of course her first question is that one. He would smack a hand to his face if it wasn’t so embarrassing. She’s probably asking because he failed so miserably at picking out a proper bouquet last time, and he has to give her credit for offering him help, even though he’s struggling to come up with a half decent response.

But before he can stop himself, he’s saying,

“It’s my mom’s birthday”

Which is an odd choice of lie. He hadn’t seen his mother in years, and her birthday had passed months ago. But that’s what he comes up with, and it’s not exactly the worst lie, but the cringe he makes as soon as it leaves his mouth isn’t all that hidden.

“That’s nice,” (y/n) beams at the thought. “Do you know what she likes?”

The way his face pales answers her question plenty, and she chuckles a bit as her eyes begin to wander the shop. “No problem, I have just the thing,” She beckons him to follow her as she wanders off a bit. “She’s an aquarius, so the safe bet is orchids,”

He’s not even sure what she’s saying, but he nods along like he understands perfectly.

“I have these, if you like white,” She suggests, and he eyes the pretty thin stems with white flowers budding off of them. Oh, so those were orchids. Then her eyes light up, and without thinking, she reaches out and places a hand on his arm with her excitement. “But I just brought in some blue ones from home, it was too cold to keep them there, would you like to see those?”

He actually doesn’t need any flowers at all, so worrying about the color was far from his mind.

“Blue sounds lovely” He gives her a nod and as he thought she might, she grins before rushing off to the back of the shop. He blames the way his skin tingles from where her tough had just left him even from under two layers of clothes.

As he slowly makes his way to the front to await her blue orchids, he glances around the shop a bit more. Every single plant his eyes land on looks like they’ve been loved to the fullest extent. Bright blooms of color cover every inch of space, every counter, shelf, and hook on the ceiling has a well loved clump of flowers occupying it. Nanami can name roses and daisies, and he thinks the purple flowers he’d been eyeing earlier was lavender, but most of what fills this shop looks like a completely new plant he’d never discovered before.

He wonders how much of her life (y/n’s) spent mastering her craft, because clearly, not a single sprout of life looks untouched or forgotten.

“Here you are,” She comes back out with a beam even wider than before as she holds up her precious blue orchids proudly. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

He hums in agreement, his face warm as he barely even casts a glance at the bundle in her hands. It might be obvious and cheesy, but he can’t exactly help it.

“Or were you looking at something else?” (y/n) asks, nodding to the hanging pot his eyes had been focused on before she’d come back out. “The star jasmine is also lovely, but they can be tough to take care of at first”

Again, he barely casts his gaze towards the pot before he’s turning back to her again, an amused little smile on his face.

“Could you really name every plant in here?” He asks, and he knows it’s a dumb question by the way she laughs, loudly, as if he’d made the funniest joke she’s heard in ages.

“Of course I could, it’s my job” She reminds him, and he nods, humming to himself thoughtfully as his gaze flickers across the shop.

“How about those then?” He points to a small pot of pinkish-purple flowers challengingly. (y/n) glances at them before turning her attention back to him, raising a brow.

“Those would be cosmos” She says slowly, but matter of factly. Nanami doesn’t necessarily have a way to fact check her, so he quickly points to another pot.

“And those?”

“Gazanias” She barely had to look at them to give him her answer.

Nanami sighs as he turns back to her in defeat, and her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes.

“Not much fun of a game, is it?” She teases with a quiet laugh.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have underestimated you” He replies, and she shrugs a shoulder at him, her eyes falling to her prized blue orchids in her hands. Absent-mindedly, she pokes and prods at a few stems, ensuring they were healthy before she passed them off to the handsome customer.

“It’s been a slow afternoon, you could have underestimated me a little longer if you’d like,” She says, only half joking. Nanami breathes out a laugh of amusement. He’s not sure if she’s flirting with him or just being playful, but from the way his heart skips a beat he certainly hopes she is flirting. “Anyways,” (y/n) clears her throat, reminding herself to go back to the task at hand. “I think your mother would adore these. I certainly do”

“Those it is, then” He affirms, and she eagerly circles around the counter, already gathering a few pieces of tissue paper she deemed pretty enough to pair with the rich blues of the flower.

“So now you’re a flower-gifting kind of guy, hm?” She asks him as she carefully wraps the thin sheets around the stems of the orchids. “The roses must’ve gone over well, then?”

Nanami chuckles, tucking his hands into his pockets. More or less, he thinks.

“It might be a bit of a copout, if I’m being honest,” He admits. “I don’t really know what else to give her. But I’m an only child, so, I kind of have the responsibility to step it up”

“That’s alright,” (y/n) hums, her focus completely on making sure the flowers are as presentable as can be. “Flowers are always a thoughtful gift. Especially mine, got it?” It’s the only time she looks up at him while wrapping up the orchids, a threatening expression on her face. “Don’t go to the other shops in town, they’re sellouts, got it?”

He laughs at her seriousness, before crossing his hand over his chest in an x motion.

“I didn’t know there was a flower shop turf war here in the shopping district” He muses. (y/n) huffs as she carefully moves about a few stems so each one would fall just so.

“Well, there is,” She mumbles like an afterthought.

There’s the tiniest of creases between her brows, and Nanami wants to tell her not to worry so much over this bouquet, seeing as he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with it once he’s home, but he has a feeling the sentiment would fall on deaf ears. She seems quite lost in her arranging.

“And besides, I gotta make sure I have loyal customers, don’t I?” She adds once she’s finished, and her serious expression crumbles into one of softness as she gazes up at him again.

“Whatever it takes” Nanami hums in agreement. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too foolishly, but he’s not sure it helps his case.

“What’s your name, anyways?”

He’s not sure why, but the simple question takes him aback, as though it were as forward as asking for his phone number. He hesitates too long, he knows by the way she lightly raises a brow at the way he pauses before he answers.

“Nanami, Kento” Even his answer is slow, but she hums and nods at him nonetheless, as though engraving it to memory on the spot.

“Nanami Kento,”

She extends her hand as she repeats the name, and it takes every ounce of will he has left to keep a shiver from crawling down his spine. He didn’t think his name could sound so sweet on another person’s voice before. He raises his hand to shake hers politely, trying not to focus too hard on how soft her small hand feels when fitted against his. His noticeably larger hand encases hers almost completely.

“I’m (y/l/n) (y/n),” She introduces, as if her name hadn’t been circling around his mind in the couple of weeks since he’d last been here. “But everyone just calls me (y/n)”

“Alright, (y/n),” He muses, and he wonders if she’d felt just as warm repeating his name as he did finally saying hers aloud. “You can just call me Kento, then”

She smiles, and the color in her cheeks is undeniable. He almost forgets to release her hand.

Once the orchids are perfectly bundled up, she passes them across the counter, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing over his knuckles as they both handle the bouquet with great care.

“How much do I owe you for these?”

“Oh, they’re on the house,” She waves a dismissive hand, and she can tell by the way he frowns that he’s going to argue, so she’s quick to keep speaking. “They’re not even in inventory, they won’t be missed. They’ll be of much better use as a gift to your mother, anyways”

“I don’t consider that fair-”

“I won’t accept a single cent,” She tells him boldly, her hands on her hips, and he wonders if this is her idea of scolding. That cute furrow in her brow and the slight pout on her lips as she glares at him. It’s downright adorable and yet again, she’s seized his heart. “Now go, you can’t arrive late on your own mother’s birthday” She waves her hand in a shooing motion towards the door.

God, he’s going to hell for this lie.

“Alright, alright,” He chuckles as he backs away, slowly heading for the door. “I’ll let you know how much she loves them”

(y/n) leans across the counter as she watches him go, her face burning with her lingering blush as she shamelessly admires him while he’s not looking.

“Come back soon, Kento!” She calls just as he’s stepped out.

He turns just as the door shuts behind him, catching her eye through the front window. She’s smiling with utter glee as she waves at him, and this time he can’t hold back his smile as he waves back. ___

The third time he enters the flower shop, he has a better lie in mind. The ruse of gift giving had worked perfectly so far, he might as well stick with it.

“Nanami Kento!”

(y/n) welcomes him by name as soon as he walks in, and a rush of warmth spreads over him so quickly he thinks the other clerk working beside her is chuckling to themselves because of him.

(y/n) says something to her coworker before coming around the corner to approach him properly. Her hair is tied in a messy bun on top of her head today, and it appeared she’d had some fun with a few little flowers sticking out of it. He smiles as he admires the adorable look before he greets her.

“Afternoon, (y/n),” He replies warmly. “Do you actually do any real work here?” He asks, nodding to the endearingly chaotic hairstyle.

“It pays to have a job you enjoy, right?” She asks. “What do you do? Are you a time traveler?” She giggles through the question, the sound tinkly and so, so cute he thinks his knees could give out.

When she gestures back at him, it dawns on him that he’s left his sunglasses on his face. He’s quick to pluck them off and tuck them into the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

“They’re odd, I know” He says, and hopes she won’t press further questions. He’s had to lie about enough, what he does for work is an enigma even to him some days.

“I like em,” She shrugs. “They make your whole business man thing look a bit more… steampunk” She waves her hands around the rest of his attire, and he can’t help but chuckle as he glances down at himself.

When he’d gone into the workforce he found he had preferred a business casual look more than the stuffy scratchy collars of the typical sorcerer’s uniform. He’d matured a lot in that time, too, and after outgrowing his… emo… phase, found that a little pop of collar looked better on him than being swamped in black.

What’s funny was that what she called business man, Gojo liked to call flashy.

“Steampunk?” He repeats curiously. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“Depends,” She shrugs again, eyeing him skeptically. “Are you planning on buying a bouquet today?”

“I was, yes” He nods.

“Then in a good way,” She grins, and when he rolls his eyes at her in good nature, she only laughs more. “Well tell me, who’s the lucky recipient this time?”

If he could get away with it, he’d happily stare at the way she smiles at him for hours. Her hands clasped behind her back, the way her pretty eyes peer up at him from under her lashes, small splashes of color swirling within (y/e/c) irises. Nanami can’t recall the last time he’d taken such a strong favor over another person, and in this moment if you’d asked, he’d tell you he’d never felt anything of the sort. But her lips are plump and glossy today, and seeing them curled upwards so warmly, and for him, it has him in a chokehold.

He was growing so fond of her he almost couldn’t stand it anymore. He could almost see that line he was trying not to trip across, because if he did step over it and into the unknown freefall that was complete and utter adoration… the thought terrifies him.

The invisible rose colored glasses that remained perched on his nose drove him to murmuring out today’s white lie before thinking about the credibility of it.

“My sister,” He finally answers. “She’s got a promotion at work, and now I know the perfect secret in gift giving for women-”

“I thought you were an only child?”

Her brow furrows just slightly as she interrupts him with her question, a curiosity flickering over her features that has Nanami paling in an instant. A part of him wants to be flattered that she’d remembered such a minor detail about his life that he’d given her a couple of weeks ago, but the anxiety that encompasses him as she’s caught him in his lie is a far more looming feeling. He can feel sweat prick on the back of his neck right away.

The longer he hesitates to answer, the more expectant the look on her face is. Slowly her eyebrows begin to raise, and her head tilts to the side ever so slightly.

“I… I am,” He starts slowly, hoping to stall until he finds the right explanation. “I don’t know why I said that, um, what I… what I meant to say…” Unfortunately, he was as bad at stalling as he is at lying.

Through his terrible stammering, (y/n’s) perplexed expression starts to morph into something else. The corner of her lips quirk up before she bites back her smile, pressing her lips together in a thin line. She tries to hide it, but her smile is evident in the way her cheekbones raise, and the corners of her eyes crinkle ever so slightly. She’s amused. And Nanami’s not sure what startles him more, being caught in the lie, or the way she’s entertained by his scrambling.

“Nanami Kento, if you want to pop in just to see me, you can,” She tells him, and when she speaks there’s no chance of concealing the way her smile brightens her entire face. “You don’t have to make up a sister just to come in”

There’s some relief in knowing she isn’t upset, but it’s quickly eaten up by his nerves from her blatant tease. His collar feels hot on his neck, and he’s certain that as soon as he leaves, he’ll have to loosen his tie.

It doesn’t help that the other clerk in the store had been obviously watching the entire interaction behind a large display vase of carnations. Here and there they’d been snickering into their hand, surely also entertained by how terrible at this Nanami is.

“You’re right, I… I don’t know why I did that,” He chuckles bashfully. (y/n) only glows brighter upon him fessing up to it. “I did just… want to come and see you”

She rocks on her feet a few times, her cheeks beginning to bloom with color.

“Well I’m glad you did,” She admits softly. “You’re my favorite customer, you know”

Nanami cracks a smile at that, some of the nerves starting to melt away the more he entertains the idea of crossing the blurring line between them.

“That simply can’t be true, I’ve only ever bought one bouquet” He reminds her, and she laughs a bit at the reminder.

“Alright, so you’re a flaky customer, but my favorite nonetheless,” She compromises. “Besides, you said you were picking one up today, no takesies backsies”

“Are you five?” He chuckles, but she waves her hand dismissively, ignoring the comment completely.

“What are you looking for today, Kento?” She changes the subject.

He thinks to himself for a moment, eyes flickering around the shop to see what stuck out to him.

Nanami Kento wasn’t necessarily a shy man, but he wasn’t the man that made the bold move. That would be Gojo. He also wasn’t the one to play coy until the other party eventually gave in either. That was Shoko’s move. Even after having a few short relationships or flings throughout the years, he never really made the first move. Things sort of just… happened.

Now, he thinks it might be just the right time to make the bold move.

He still has to take a deep breath before he does, though.

“Depends,” He muses, glancing back at her. “Which do you like best? I want to give you the right arrangement before dinner” ___

bonus:

They’re standing at the entrance to her building when she finally brings up the elephant in the room that had followed them for the entire evening.

“You know, it’s pretty corny to give me flowers that I grew from my store”

“It was a good line, sweetheart, I’m going to stand by that,” He chuckles back at her. “And you picked them” He adds, gesturing to the pretty bouquet of lilies of the valley tucked carefully in her arm.

“Forgive me for not being able to turn down pretty flowers from a handsome man” She replies playfully, and for once he manages to maintain control of himself as he gives her a gentle smile.

“Do you flirt with all of your customers to keep them coming back?” He replies coolly, and the giggle that escapes her is anything but coy. Just pure, genuine joy.

She settles the bouquet safely in her arms before tilting forward on the tips of her toes. It does little to nothing to shorten their height difference, but she’s close enough now that Nanami can practically taste the strawberry on her breath left from their dessert. Common sense escapes him briefly as he follows suit, bending closer almost all the way. The sudden movement startles her, her eyes widening and falling to watch his lips, curious if he’d actually kiss her so suddenly. She smiles when he pauses just before his lips could touch hers, and her gaze flickers back up to his eyes.

“No,” She answers his question in a breath of a whisper. “Just my favorite ones”

He chuckles a bit at the cheeky answer, but he’s over the playful banter. His hand, calloused, but warm and welcoming, reaches out to her chin, fingers gently tipping her head upwards just a little more, before he slides his palm across her cheek.

The question is on the tip of his tongue, but her eyes are already fluttering shut and she’s already closing the remaining space between them. He supposes when her lips blindly land on his, he doesn’t need to ask for permission to kiss her goodnight. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento imagine #nanami kento x reader fluff #nanami kento fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami #kento

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frenchkisstheabyss · 30 days

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⛧ 𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙸𝙸 ⛧

⛧ Pairing: poly!slasher!minsung x chubby!fem!reader

⛧ Genre: slasher au/horror/angst/smut

⛧ Summary: It's Halloween 1996, you've just broken up with your toxic ex, and there's a killer on the loose. When you go to the local video store to find your next distraction, you run into your longtime crushes who have their hearts set on looking after you. But you must be careful. Not everyone's who they appear to be.

⛧ Word Count: 2.k-ish

⛧ Warnings: If you don't like horror turn back now. This isn't graphic by any means but there are horror elements! Slight sadomasichism, full blown yandere vibes, mentions of toxic ex, mention of dead body w/ tame description, shallow knife wound (you don't get stabbed. no worries), knife/blood play, a lil smut because there's kissing/fingering/nipple play, pet names (babe, baby) a threesome happens but is only referenced, slasherfucker reader, reader's kinda losing it

⛧ A/N: This is part 2 in a series. I linked the first part in the summary. Part 1 was dark and fluffy while this one is really dark and angsty. There's still romance but said romance is kinda psychotic. For the record, I'm in no way encouraging you to go out and have sex with two psychokillers. But if they're Minsung hot? I meaaaaan....

💀 <<< Rewind to Tape 1 or Keep Going to Tape 3 >>> 💀

Han laughs, bringing his arms around your waist, “Oh but sweetie, we’ve played your game. Don’t you wanna play ours now?”

Street Fighter is a game. Monopoly is a game. Minho forcing you to hold a knife to his throat in the middle of their kitchen? This is unlike any game you’ve ever played before. Against your better judgment, you throw caution to the wind and ask the million dollar question.

“And what are the rules to this game of yours?”

Minho clicks his tongue, delighted at your morbid curiosity, “It’s simple really. If I can make my lips touch yours without the blade slitting my throat open I get a kiss.”

“And if he doesn’t—” Han muses, “I’m down a roommate I suppose.”

“Kiss or death, baby” Minho says, leaning into the tip of the blade so that it's agonizingly slow to witness. He stops when it pricks his skin, a scarlet drop of blood rising to the surface. Your fingers tremble around the handle of the knife, your body running ice cold at the realization that this is actually happening.

“You’re both fucking psycho!” you shout, twisting free of them with reckless abandon. You stumble backward into the kitchen counter, the blade still in your hand. When you regain your footing you notice tiny droplets of blood decorating the white tile floor. You trace their source to the much larger cut in the side of Minho’s neck.

Han stares at you with a Milky Way galaxy of stars dancing behind his eyes, “So she does have it in her.”

Time itself seems to come to a halt when you register what you’ve done. You hadn’t meant to do it but, accident or not, you did it. “Oh god, no, I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry. I…I…” you stutter, tossing the knife into the sink. Minho takes a deep breath, running his fingers across his wound as he approaches you. “It’s okay. I’ll live” he smirks, applying blood to his lips like some luxurious lipstick, “Now about that kiss.”

Minho’s close enough to you that you can feel his shallow breaths against your face. His bottom lip brushes yours and your mouth falls open without hesitation. The voice of the girl you were before you came here whispers for you to run—leave this place and never come back—but it’s far too late for that. Minho locks you in a kiss, metallic and sweet, that makes you a stranger to yourself.

It’s not you hungrily kissing Minho, blood staining his collar as he takes greedy handfuls of your plush body. It’s not your cheek that Han cups, tilting your head to the side to steal kisses and taste that last bit of blood on your tongue. Only…it is you and you’re loving every second of it. So much that when Han unbuttons your jeans, slipping a hand inside to tease your clit, you’ve already managed to soak through your panties.

“Aah, I knew it” he whispers, lightly stroking your entrance, “I told you she was the one. That she was special.” You moan into Minho’s mouth when Han’s fingers sink into you, your cries of pleasure echoing within his cheeks. “It’s true. You’re our special girl, aren’t you?” Minho hums, his thumb circling one of your nipples through your shirt.

The praise goes to your head in the worst way, setting a once cold body ablaze with lust. Your walls contract with every mention of how special you are—of how long they’ve waited to have you here. Han’s never had his fingers this drenched before, his mind’s already running wild with thoughts of licking your juices from them once you come. The noises you make are so melodic, so splendid, that they'd burn them into their memories if they could.

Minho’s sharp eyes lock onto yours, fingers toiling away at the delicate hooks of your bra. “Can we keep you?” he asks like a demon masquerading as a child. Innocence with something darker lurking beneath, waiting to tear you to pieces. The answer comes easily, driven by your thirst to be devoured.

“Yes,” you moan, exhaling at the relief of being freed from your bra, “I’m yours.” Han licks up the side of your neck, softly nibbling at your earlobe as his fingers pick up speed.

“All ours,” he whispers, “Forever.”

Grainy black and white dots dance across the TV screen, casting a white glow across the bed where you lay naked cuddled up beneath the blanket with Han’s childhood teddy bear. It’s 3AM and Camp Counselor Sleepover Murder Party 4 ended an hour ago. Not that you were paying an ounce of attention to it. Your focus was placed entirely on being bent into a series of unholy positions by the two men you expect to see when you open your eyes. But when you finally do—limbs still tingling from your last orgasm—they’re nowhere to be found.

Yawning, you force yourself up in bed, squinting at the light from the TV. Holding your hand up to shield your eyes, you notice the dried up blood on your fingertips. The events of the night come back to you gradually like a fuzzy radio signal sorting itself out. Your mouth is saturated with that same metallic taste from before, the sweetness of it having long faded. Finding it too nauseating to tolerate, you retrieve your underwear from the floor and set out in search of something to wash the taste away.

Stepping out into the hallway you find yourself in near pitch black darkness. The only guiding light is the glow of a lamp from the bottom of the staircase at the opposite end of the hallway. “Minho!” you call out, taking slow cautious steps down the hall. You extend your arms out on both sides, feeling around for anything you might bump into. You hold your breath, listening for even the faintest sound of his voice but it never comes. Finally reaching the staircase, you grab onto the sides and make your way down.

You call out again, this time trying another name for good measure, “Han! Where are you guys?” It suddenly occurs to you that this is the moment in slasher movies where the girl wanders downstairs and gets sliced up by some masked psycho killer. You stop halfway down the stairs, glancing up at the darkness you left behind. “Fuck that” you huff, jogging the rest of the way down the stairs to find safety in the light.

Finally you’re back in familiar territory. To your right you spot the kitchen and your heart jumps at the thought of the Halloween candy left untouched on the table. But your tooth rotting dreams are derailed by the sound of whirling somewhere to your left. You turn to spot a heavy wooden door left slightly cracked. It’d look like any other door if not for the two deadbolts drilled into the frame. Off to the side sits a black garbage bag, the kind contractors use on construction jobs, and it’s stuffed full of…something.

Hearing the low chattering of voices, you drift towards the door whispering to yourself the whole time. “Why are you freaking out? Nothing’s wrong. They’re probably just taking out the trash. Don’t be so—” You choke on your own words as you stare down into the trash bag. It is full of trash. There’s pizza boxes, empty soda cans, and crumbled up chips bags all from last night.

And then there’s something else.

The tip of something red poking out from between the pizza boxes. You lean in closer and make out deep wrinkles carved in plastic. Pinching the end of it you pull it from the trash and you feel even more nauseous than before. It’s a mask. Not just any mask. The same mask your ex had on when you saw him at the video store. A chill runs down your spine, making you let out an unexpected squeak that brings all of the background conversation to a halt.

“Hello?” Han’s voice rings out, seemingly from beneath you. You crack the door a little more, peeking in to find another set of stairs leading down into the basement. “Everything okay up there?” Minho asks, his tone oddly suspicious of you. You clear your throat, tucking the mask back into the trash bag, “I’m—I’m fine. Just got a little snack craving is all. Are you guys good?”

You’re met with silence reminiscent of the moment before Minho forced you to cut his throat. “Why don’t you come down?” Han insists, bubbling with joy, “We have a surprise for you!” You pull the door open all the way, shuddering at the creaking sound the old wooden stairs make when you step on them.

“A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

“One you weren’t supposed to see yet” Minho pouts, “But you’re here now so whatever.”

Minho’s adorable tendency to whine gives you the sense of normalcy you needed to get you to the bottom of the stairs. But when you reach it you wish you hadn’t. The basement is nothing like the welcoming warmth of the rest of the house. It’s pristine and white, the polished floor icy against your bare feet. In each corner there’s a large cabinet stocked with all sorts of medical supplies. It reminds you of an operating room in one of those medical dramas.

It is an operating room and at the center of it, in a pool of blood that leaks between the cracks in the tiles, is the partially dismembered body of your ex boyfriend. “Hi, baby” Han waves with the hand not currently holding a cordless saw. Still in his underwear, he’s dressed in a long black apron with the gloves to match. Minho’s dressed the same and both are slick with blood.

Before you can think better of it, you’re screaming at the top of your lungs and bolting back up the stairs. All the while images of torn flesh and fractured bone flash in your mind. You couldn’t stand that man, hated him in fact, but you’d never wanted to see him in pieces.

Spotting your purse by the front door, you make a mad dash for it clueless to the two figures gathering behind you. Your vision clouded with tears, you fight with the front door locks to get out. “I knew it was too soon” Minho sighs in disappointment, “We should’ve waited.” Han slips his gloves off, coming over to kiss you on the cheek.

Your body recoils, shaking in fear, “Don’t hurt me. Please.”

“Hurt you?” he scoffs, flipping the lock open, “I’d never hurt you. You just seemed like you needed a little help.”

Minho flops down in a chair near the door, messy hair falling in his face, “Take my jacket at least. It’s cold out.”

Their calmness is odd to say the least, making you reevaluate the fear that you feel. “You’re letting me go? Just like that?” Han plucks a wool trench coat from its hook, draping it over your shoulders. He pulls the door open and a slight autumn breeze blows through the door. “I told you. We don’t want to hurt you. We’re here to protect you...and maybe teach you how to protect yourself.”

His sincerity makes you uncomfortable and you feel yourself splitting in two again. This time the old you wins and throw yourself out into the night, scanning the street to find where you parked your car. The block is as dark as the upstairs hall, giving you the sense that you’re on some terrifying island all your own.

You can't make sense of why they’d let you go. Any normal person would drive straight from here to the police station. You know their faces. Their names. Where they work. Where they live. Do they want to get caught?

“You can’t run from who you are forever, pretty girl!” you hear Minho taunting. You look back to see them watching you from the doorway, smiling lovingly in your direction.

Minho winks at you, blowing you a kiss, “See you real soon, babe.”

#stray kids au #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #han jisung x female reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #lee know angst #han jisung angst #minho x reader #lee know x reader #minho x you #stray kids angst #plus size reader #chubby reader

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strawberrystepmom · 1 month

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happy gojo fluff friday i guess. gojo x f!reader. established relationship, self indulgent crafting fluff, reader is teaches the second years. | divider by cafekitsune, wc 1.4k, reading time 5 mins 17 seconds

“I used to make these all the time, remember?”

Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you in your living room, you hold up a bundle of braided twine bracelets, a rainbow of colors with assorted charms attached to them. Little plastic seashells on the blue one, flowers dotting the green one.

Satoru remembers, he still has the one you made him in your first year. It feels like a lifetime ago that six teenagers had vaguely matching mementos they wore showing their unity as a group, yourself and your fellow first years Nanami and Haibara and of course himself and his friends.

“Blue seems cliche,” you opined at the time with a raised brow, a pink cheeked seventeen year old Gojo staring back at you anxiously. His crush had bloomed by then although you pretended to be oblivious to it. “How about pink instead?”

He has never been able to tell you no so he nodded, keeping his mouth screwed shut while you worked. Pink he received, so bright it almost hurt his eyes to wear it back then. You attached a little smiley face charm right in the middle, affixing it around his wrist. He wore it every day until it began to unravel, safely kept in a small lockbox in the back of his closet.

The same box that contains most of the memories you’ve given him, the photos, the cards, the trinkets, and the ones the two of you have yet to make including that pesky engagement ring he can never seem to figure out the right time to give you.

“I might take it to school with me tomorrow just to see what the kids think.”

Two big hands make their way to your bent thighs and you smile, still digging through the box in your lap. Beads, closures, all the stuff you used to pride yourself on keeping tidy and neat. You glance up at him, that same smile on your face.

“Let me make you a new one since I have all this stuff out.”

You dig through the box for a minute more, squinting and making a show of exaggeratedly humming. Leaning in toward him, you hold colored embroidery floss up to his face to compare it to the shades of his eyes, the unforgettable feature that they are. One bundle of floss is too green, the other is too yellow.

“What do you think the kids will say?” He asks, watching each of your movements raptly. Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth when you concentrate, an adorable habit you’ve maintained in all of the years he’s known you, and you sit back on your haunches for a moment, hands on your thighs.

Yet another adorable habit.

He reaches to grab your arm, gently rubbing his thumb along the inside of it. You smile at the touch and ponder what your students will truly think if you bring this to them. It’s a bit of a dated hobby compared to the luxury of choice teenagers have now and you laugh to yourself, shaking your head.

“Well, Maki will probably say you’re rubbing off on me since I don’t bother to teach anymore and call it stupid to my face.” Satoru chuckles, watching through his lashes while you spring back into action, reaching behind you to grab a few more bundles of blue. “Inumaki will probably spell something inappropriate in English if I bring the letter beads. Panda will ask me to make each of them a matching bracelet because he’s sweet and will request that I make one for Yuuta to have when he gets back, too.”

Looking at the latest bounty recovered from the little tackle box that stores the trinkets required for this, you gasp. Cerulean with a deep blue sparkle woven through the strands.

I’ll save this for something special some day, you told yourself more than a decade ago, spending your student stipend in some fancy embroidery shop in Nippori. Yen exchanged for fancy thread, dotted with glitter or metallic coating. You had no idea. Maybe you even bought it back then hoping a day where you’d be able to compare it to Satoru’s eyes would arrive, subconsciously laying the tracks for your own future.

“It’s a perfect match.”

The grin on your face is mirrored by your love who reaches around your body to grab from the twine selection himself. A handful of colors that match your eyes sit across his large palm and he glances down at the collection, mimicking your previous attempts to find something that screamed “him”.

“What are you doing?” The question is a half joke but you let him hum to himself, raising one bundle and then another to compare them. “Well, I didn’t make you one back then because I thought I was too cool,” he blinks at you, making you giggle. “I was right, of course, but there’s no time like the present, right?”

Nodding your agreement, you remove the paper from around the twine and shake it out. You’ll need some coordinating colors so you dig back through the bundles in front of you, sticking them against his face again.

“I still have the one you made me, by the way.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and use your index finger to poke around in the bead compartment, searching for the perfect one for your newest creation.

“Don’t lie, I can always tell.” Satoru grabs your hand delicately although your fingers are still holding various crafting supplies and raises it to his lips, gently kissing your wrist. You are very attentive to the little things about him and likely noticed when he finally stopped wearing it, several years after it was first made. “I’m not lying. I had to stop wearing it because it was unweaving and I didn’t want to lose it forever.”

You feel guilty for the accusation and lean in toward him, kissing the tip of his nose, claiming your hand back from his grasp to begin braiding twine together into a pattern.

“I can always re-make it if you’d rather have a pink one,” you offer, braiding together various shades of blue in your lap without looking down. “I can wear this one.”

Smiling softly, he looks at you, then the bundle of your eye colored twine in his own hand.

“You wear the blue one and I’ll make one that matches you to wear myself, how about that?”

Nodding, you let the conversation fall quiet while he unbundles his own selections, fingers deftly separating and joining three strands, just the way you tried to teach him years ago when you assumed he didn’t care. He has always paid far more attention to you than you’ve realized and you’ve given him a lot to study over the last ten or so years.

“I think you should leave this at home,” he admits. It’s selfish but he doesn’t want to see you share this precious memory with your students who may not even appreciate it. He wants to sit cross legged on the living floor with you, making little friendship bracelets that will eventually unravel or fade or snap, for the rest of his life. He wants to make them for your children someday, matching bracelets with mom and dad. He wants to keep this, to keep you, all to himself.

“Okay. It’s probably for the best anyway, I don’t need to give them one more thing to give me shit about.”

Satoru leans toward you and kisses your forehead right as you’re finishing the blue bracelet. He looks down, tying and knotting it around your wrist, remembering when you did the same for him so long ago.

“Looks good.” His words catch your eye and you smile up at him, looking between his eyes and the bracelet wrapped around your wrist. It is an uncanny match and you’re proud of your own eye for color though your pride is stopped in its tracks when he sticks out his wrist, bracelet pinched between two of his fingers and dangling from his hand. “Would you mind?”

You do as he did for you, as you’ve done for him before, with softness in your eyes it would be impossible to hide.

“Not bad,” you compliment and he shrugs with a chuckle. “Obviously. I even think mine is the better of the two.”

Letting your hand rest in his lap, next to his, the hastily made bracelets sit one next to the other on each of your bodies. His eyes follow yours and he weaves your fingers together, thumb gently rubbing the thickest part of your palm.

It’ll always be the two of you, a perfectly matched set, no matter what.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #kendall writes #satoken

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bloodblanks · 7 months

Text

feverish and faint [entire slendermansion x reader] — smut

An attempt at escaping the eldritch entity that kidnapped you leads to... this. — ft: eyeless jack, masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, ben drowned, and slenderman.

inspired by passed around from @succulentwritings_official on ao3! ♡

author's note: dead dove: do not eat. this fanfiction will contain explicit sexual content, including rape/non-con, dub-con, gangbang(s), tentacles, facefucking, degradation, mild blood, and similar themes.

this is quite literally a slendermansion train. if you don’t like this kind of content, don’t fucking read it. you have been warned.

please read at your own discretion.

this work has not yet been proofread.

You thought you knew what you were getting into when you tried to escape.

A broken leg. Confinement back in the basement. Maybe he’d rough you up with those tentacles of his. Depending on how much your escape had upset him, or maybe if he was just feeling particularly cruel, you would start hearing static, blacking out. Losing your sense of time, losing your memories.

All of that, you had mentally prepared yourself for; you had acknowledged the risks at the time and still decided it would be worth it.

For your friends, your family. All of which were sure to have missed you dearly—it had been months since you were taken captive. It would’ve been worth it for the chance to see them again.

Even if you were caught, brought back and punished, it would still be worth it. For a second to breathe fresh air. For even a glimpse of the outside world again. For anything, anything besides the stale, dull rooms of the mansion you were trapped in.

At least, that’s what you believed.

When you were finally found, approximately two hours later, cowering at the overgrown roots of a tall tree, knees stained with dirt and coagulated blood, face damp with tears, by the very eldritch entity that had ripped you from your peaceful life, you knew you were wrong.

But it wasn’t until you were dragged back into the mansion, kicking and screaming until your throat was hoarse, knowing that there was nobody to hear you, nobody to save you, that you only started to realize just how wrong you were.

Your first sign of alarm was when he didn’t say a word, not even after he had brought you back into the mansion, back into your almost luxurious—with velvet curtains and silk bedsheets—yet dreadful bedroom.

Your second sign of alarm was when instead of snapping your bones or sending you into a coughing fit with blood seeping from your nostrils, the tall, monstrous being ran a bath, filling the bathtub with comforting hot water and vanilla bubbles.

But the third time was indeed the charm, the last sign you needed to let you know that there was something terrible planned in store for you.

After all, the premonition of impeding doom was unmistakable as he escorted you into the bath and lathered you up in delicious honey foam, gently scrubbing the grime off your skin. Despite the perfectly warm temperature of the water, you couldn’t avoid the cold, cold feeling of dread as your heart sank down into your gut.

He was pampering you like a doll, and your heart pulsed anxiously as you tried to figure out why.

“Why are you doing this?” you meekly questioned, afraid of invoking further wrath.

The tall man, the one you had now come to know as Slenderman, ignored your question.

You could feel his voice in your head as he replied.

“Did you enjoy your little escape, darling?” The words instantly sent a chill down your spine.

The volume of your heartbeat increased, each thump louder than the last and reverberating within your skull. You could feel your chest tighten, your ribcage clamping down around your lungs like a vice as your breathing quickened.

“I’m— I’m sorry,” you muttered, curling your legs into your chest, hugging them tight.

“Oh, darling,” the man made a noise akin to a sigh. “I know you aren’t.”

He reached one of his hands over, long fingers taking ahold of your chin, tilting your head upwards to meet his blank canvas of a face.

“But, you will be, soon enough.”

You could hear the promise in his words, and you tried to mentally brace yourself for whatever punishment he’d put you through.

But no amount of preparation would’ve been enough for this.

—

When you woke up, you were greeted by a shroud of darkness. When you blinked, you could feel your eyelashes flutter against something soft—likely a cloth, a blindfold of some sort.

This was new.

You still had faint traces of a headache from what had previously occurred. After bathing you and drying you off, your head was instantly filled with the now familiar buzz of static, and it wasn’t long before your consciousness slipped from your grasp.

You winced, stirring from your resting position before the dreaded voice once again permeated your skull.

“Good, you’re awake,” Slenderman spoke. “Right on time.”

Right on time? For what? You weren’t sure that you wanted to find out, but it wasn’t like you really had a say in it.

“Come on in, everyone,” Slenderman addressed an unknown audience, though it wasn’t hard to guess who he was referring to. Throughout your stay in the mansion, the tall man had made you aware of the presence of others living there. You knew that other people, or possibly creatures like himself resided in the same building as you, though you fortunately never had to meet them. Even during your brief escape, you hadn’t seen anyone else, which you had been thankful for. But it appeared that your luck had ran out, and you were soon to face a fear greater than the unknown.

You heard a door creak open, then footsteps—though you couldn’t tell yet how many people there were—which came to a shuffling halt after a few seconds.

The room was silent, save for the pounding rush of blood in your ears.

“Darling,” Slenderman’s voice drawled on, a hint of amusement audible as you felt tendrils wrap around your limbs, picking you up and placing you on what you guessed to be his lap. “You’ve been rather disobedient lately, haven’t you?”

You didn’t respond, your heart threatening to combust in your chest as your body tensed up. You felt his hands brush against your face as his fingers slipped underneath the cloth covering your sight.

“You’ll have to be taught a lesson now, dear.” With that, the blindfold was lifted from your eyes, though the sudden brightness of the room proved to be too harsh on your eyes, causing you to flinch, squinting for a few seconds as you adjusted to the light.

You realized two things at once. First of all, there were numerous men before you, of various different appearances and sizes. And second of all, you were half-naked, the only clothing covering you being a sheer, white mesh lingerie dress and matching panties.

The realization of what was going on instantly dawned upon you, your eyes widening and blood running cold.

“No,” you breathed. “No, Slenderman, please, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again—”

“Of course not,” he chuckled, a low rumble in his chest as he laughed. “That’s what I’m making sure of.”

He diverted his attention from you, back to the group of men before you. You counted in your head; there were six of them.

“Go ahead, gentlemen. You’re free to do with her whatever you want.”

The final words sealing your fate were spoken. As soon as the words were said, two of the men moved forward, advancing towards you.

The first one to reach you was a man in a tan jacket. His face was concealed behind a white mask with black painted features, dark brown hair falling past it.

“Should’ve known better than to piss him off,” he snickered. “But I’m definitely not complaining.”

You could only watch in horror as he unbuttoned his jeans, sliding down the zipper and pulling down both his pants and underwear together, revealing his already erect member.

You panicked at the sight, condensation beginning to bead up on your forehead as your breathing quickened from anxiety.

“Please don’t do this,” you begged, but the man merely laughed.

“No can do, princess,” he answered with a callous tone. “Now get to work and suck it.”

When you didn’t move, merely looked at him with pleading eyes in hopes of the slight bit of mercy, the man grew impatient, roughly grasping a handful of your hair and pulling you forward towards him, your lips mere centimetres from his cock.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered. You gulped, swallowing the saliva that had pooled in your mouth, trying to get past your own reluctance.

A harsh slap to your face jerked your head sideways, your cheek instantly stinging in discomfort as you hissed in pain.

“Open your mouth,” the masked man repeated himself, this time more forcefully. You could only comply, allowing your lips to part slightly. He wasted no time in shoving his cock past your lips, using the hand he had in your hair to push your head down, forcing you to take his length in until the head hit the back of your throat. You could feel your eyes water, tearing up as he aggressively fucked your mouth, thrusting in and out as you struggled to keep up. You tried your best to breathe through your nose, but it didn’t prevent you from gagging on his erection, the discomfort causing the first tear to slide down your cheek.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the other men—black fabric mask with a red stitched on face, dressed in a yellow hoodie and jeans—move towards you. The man with the porcelain mask noticed as well, ceasing his thrusting for a second to address his companion.

“You want a piece of her too, huh, Hoodie?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he spoke.

The man in yellow, that you now knew as Hoodie, replied.

“She’s got a nice body. I have no reason not to.” His voice was softer, lacking the aggressiveness that the former held. You couldn’t really frown, with the man’s erection still in your mouth, but you could feel irritation spike at his comment with the way he spoke about you. As if you were just an object, a piece of meat. Though, at the same time, there was something about that, that elicited a scintilla of dark excitement within you. Something you decided you wouldn’t—you couldn’t—pay any mind to.

The first man pulled you off of his member with a harsh tug to your hair, a squeak leaving your lips, finally able to make sound again. You took the opportunity to try and protest again, before this went even further.

“Guys, please,” you whined, knowing your efforts would likely prove to be fruitless. “Please stop.”

The masked man only snickered, further cementing how futile your objections were. You felt as if he was about to make a snarky comment, but instead, the hooded man spoke.

“Masky, shut her up.” His tone was flatter, colder than before, causing a fresh wave of goosebumps to break out over the surface of your skin.

Before you knew it, Masky was pushing you back down onto his cock, and you couldn’t do much besides take his length into your mouth, though this time, his movements were slightly slower as he jerked his hips against your mouth.

With your nose practically pressed up to Masky’s stomach, your vision was rather limited, though you could feel Hoodie’s hands on your skin, making you flinch.

You could feel his hands trail down your stomach to your hips, but it wasn’t until his fingers brushed against the thin fabric of your panties that you panicked, trying to squirm away from his touch. Your resistance only made the tentacles wrapping around your limbs tighten, which in return caused you to thrash harder against their grip. It wasn’t until they were binding your arms and wrists so tightly that you were worried about your circulation, that you finally stopped trying to break free. It wasn’t like you could even move as that point, anyway, the tendrils holding you perfectly still, inanimate as a statue.

Your gasp was muffled by the cock in your mouth. Hoodie picked your hips up, lifting them off of Slenderman’s lap so that your stomach was pressed against the eldritch entity’s thighs instead, with your ass in the air. You felt his fingers push your panties aside, exposing your cunt to the cooler temperature of the room, sending shivers down your spine.

You couldn’t make a sound, Masky picking up the pace as he abused your mouth, your eyes squeezing shut in discomfort, before you received another sharp tug to your hair.

“Look at me,” he snapped. You opened your watery eyes to meekly glance at him, your vision blurring with tears.

At the same time, you felt a finger brush against your clit, and you flinched, instinctively trying to wiggle away but there wasn’t anywhere for you to go.

You could feel that it was likely Hoodie’s thumb when he started rubbing circles around your clit, the unexpected pleasure startling you. As he continued his movements, you couldn’t help but feel good, thanking whatever god was out there that at least your moans were stifled by Masky’s cock as he rapidly thrust in and out of your mouth.

You could feel his thrusts growing more frantic, but you found it hard to pay much attention with Hoodie’s fingers pressed against your clit, the unwanted pleasure beginning to cloud your judgement.

You only snapped out of it for a brief second when Masky grunted, his hips jerking to a sudden halt in your mouth, and you could feel liquid, slightly bitter and salty flood your mouth.

“Drink it all,” he demanded. You complied, doing your best to swallow the fluid, the aftertaste making you grimace as he pulled out, stepping away to redress himself.

You were glad that he was done for a second—at least this was getting closer to being over than before—but then realized something. There was nothing to muffle your moans, not anymore, and you could only do your best to hold it in, despite Hoodie continuing to play with the sensitive nub of flesh, each movement only further hazing your mind. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice, as you strained to keep yourself from moving your hips, wanting more, but your hopes were in vain when you heard him speak.

“Enjoying yourself?” Hoodie’s tone was as callous as ever, but it held a hint of sadistic joy, and you were just about to tell him ‘no’ when you felt him slip two fingers past your entrance, a lustful gasp escaping your lips.

You could feel a wildfire blazing across your cheeks, lowering your gaze to the floor in shame as he worked his digits inside of you, the tips of his fingers rubbing at your g-spot.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you denied, trying to hold onto whatever slivers of pride you had left.

“Is that why you’re so wet?” You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the grin in his voice as his fingers made a particularly lewd, squelching sound inside you.

You didn’t answer, your embarrassment peaking as you listened to the sounds that your own body was making.

You couldn’t hold back from whining when he pulled his fingers out, the sudden lack of sensation making you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve yourself of the heat building up inside of you.

You heard some shuffling—likely him undoing his pants—before you heard footsteps, your head snapping towards the source of the sound.

Another man was approaching you, dressed in a khaki coloured sweater with striped sleeves, complete with jeans as well, though his mask was different than the others, more so resembling a mouthguard with a separate pair of goggles.

“You should—woo—make her beg for it first,” he suggested, a dark chuckle leaving his lips. The tone of his voice gave you chills, something clearly more sinister than the other two that had spoken so far.

“I don’t see the need,” Hoodie responded. “You can if you want.”

The man with goggles shrugged, before turning to you. Behind the goggles, you could see the sadistic gleam in his amber eyes.

“Mind waiting for a second?” he asked, seemingly to Hoodie, though the question felt rhetorical.

“No, go ahead.” You were really hoping Hoodie would object, but it seemed like he didn’t have any issue with the former’s antics.

“Alright,” the man with goggles snickered. “Listen up, buttercup. You’re going to—woo—beg real fucking nice for me, and when I’m satisfied, he’ll fuck you. How does that sound?”

Awful, you thought, staring at him, aghast. There was no way you were doing this. There was no way you would just give up your own dignity like that. At least, that’s what you wanted to believe, when you felt Hoodie’s fingers rub at your dripping cunt again, but this time, at an agonizingly slow pace.

You whined, his fingers drawing the laziest of circles around your clit, his touches softer than before, just enough to tease you but not enough to satisfy you.

The goggled man cackled.

“Thought you didn’t see the need,” he said.

“I don’t,” Hoodie restated what he previously said. “I’m just helping you out, Toby.”

Toby. So that was his name. You kept it in mind—for no particular reason—as Hoodie continued his actions, every passing second a slow torture for you.

It felt good. You wanted more. You whimpered, feeling any self-control you had left, slip from your grasp.

“Please,” you finally whispered. “Please, Toby, I want it.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes; your ego had been shattered and thrown in the gutter. If there was any occasion befitting for Slenderman’s memory erasure, it would be this. But he wouldn’t be so kind as to let you forget this, you were sure of that.

“Didn’t hear you, sorry,” Toby taunted, the glee clearly audible in his voice. “Care to repeat yourself—woh—woo—one more time?”

You gritted your teeth, cursing yourself for being foolish and naïve enough to have ever gotten in this situation.

“Please,” you spoke under your breath.

“Louder,” he cut you off. To your own horror, you found yourself complying.

“Please, Toby, I want it,” you cried out, your voice high-pitched and whiny and nothing like you had ever imagined you’d sound.

“Good girl,” Toby praised you, his voice sickly sweet.

As soon as the words left his lips, you felt one of Hoodie’s hands grip your hips, pulling them toward himself, the other hand likely lining himself up with your entrance as you felt the tip of his erection press against it.

He plunged himself inside you with a delightful stretch, eliciting a loud moan from your lips. You were already more than soaked; he was able to easily slide in, much to your further embarrassment. You felt his other hand grip your hip, holding on tightly as he started pumping into you, building up a steady rhythm, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

You were getting lost in the pleasure, each thrust of his hips sending a fresh jolt of electricity through your body, when Toby reached down for your face, taking ahold of your chin with his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up towards him.

He slowly ran his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it downwards slightly before pushing his finger in past your parted lips. You lightly flicked your tongue against his thumb, causing him to chuckle once again.

He clicked his tongue, making a ‘tsk’ sound as he shook his head in mock disapproval.

“And you were begging for us to stop...” Toby laughed, retracting his finger from your mouth with a slick pop. You didn’t reply to him, instead sucking in a sharp breath as Hoodie’s cock slammed against a particularly pleasurable spot inside of you.

Toby undid his jeans, pulling them down, proceeding to do the same with his underwear, releasing his hard-on from his pants. He once again gripped your chin, your lips already parting for him as he slid inside of your mouth. His member was larger than Masky’s—that or he was more forceful, you couldn’t tell—and instantly hit the back of your throat, but he didn’t stop there. Instead, he continued to force your head down, hand pressing against the back of your head until you felt his cock fill your throat, instantly triggering your gag reflex. You gagged and choked around his cock, eyes once again watering as you found yourself unable to breathe, only able to glance at him helplessly as he began fucking your throat, bucking his hips into your mouth and all the way down your throat.

Meanwhile, Hoodie’s rhythmic thrusts were growing faster, pounding into you harder than before as tension built up within you. With one cock down your throat and the other stuffing your cunt, you were caught in the juxtaposition between discomfort and ecstasy, both sensations overwhelming your mind and flooding your senses, the last of any rational thoughts extinguished; snuffed out like a flame.

“My, my,” Slenderman’s booming voice echoed through your skull. “If I had known sooner that you would be this easy to break...”

You felt one of the tentacles wrapped around your body loosen its grip, not leaving you with enough time to wonder why. Instead you felt the foreign appendage flick at your swollen clit, your eyes instantly widening at the unexpected action.

Another deep sigh, though the sound was clearly inhuman.

“You’re just a slut after all, aren’t you, darling?”

Never in your life would you have wanted to admit it, but you couldn’t help the way his words tightened the knot in your stomach, the tension building up to a peak as your walls spasmed and contracted. The feeling of your insides squeezing around Hoodie’s cock must’ve tipped him off the edge because you could hear him groaning as he, too, came, emptying himself inside of you.

He pulled out, his hold on your hips slackening, your lower body proceeding to slump down, though Toby didn’t stop pumping in and out of your mouth. If anything, his movements grew rougher, your throat getting fucked raw, the tiny inhales of oxygen you were able to take through your nose not enough to supply your lungs. Your eyes welled up with tears from the slight pain that you now couldn’t ignore, your throat being mercilessly scraped raw and jaw cramping up.

You blinked, a few drops falling down your face in glistening streams. When Toby finally jerked his hips up with one last hard thrust, you were thankful that you’d be able to breathe soon, feeling his cock twitch, lodged in your windpipe as his semen spilled down your esophagus.

He kept you there, holding your head down until he had finished pouring out every last drop of his cum, giving you no choice but to swallow it all, your head almost dizzy from the lack of oxygen. At last, he yanked you off his member, leaving you spluttering and gasping for much needed air before you dropped your head, face sinking into the soft sheets that Slenderman was sitting on.

You were still breathing heavily, sucking in large inhales at a rapid pace, when you heard someone speak.

“Nice to meet you, dollface. The name’s Jeff.” Upon seeing him up close, you instantly froze up, a small gasp leaving your lips. You didn’t even realize when this man had appeared and Toby left, but here he was, standing before you, eyes caked in charcoal, skin a pale, leathery white, and an artificial, carved smile wide open in his cheeks.

You whimpered, trying to get up and squirm away from Jeff, who laughed, seemingly finding your reaction entertaining.

“Aw, babe, no need to be scared of me,” he cackled. “I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun together. Isn’t that right, boss?”

Slenderman chuckled, the noise a deep vibration rumbling through your skull.

“With how much of a slut she has turned out to be, I’m sure she’ll love it. Wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”

The question was directed at you, causing your face to heat up, flushing with shame. It wasn’t so much humiliating because he called you that, but more so because it was true, merely the words themselves able to send warmth pooling between your thighs.

“I’m— I’m not a slut,” you pathetically tried to defend yourself, though you didn’t even believe your own words.

“Is that so?” Slenderman questioned, the dark amusement visible in his voice. You felt one of his mysterious appendages pry itself between your thighs, the tip swirling around your clit, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“A-Ah!” you gasped, still sensitive from your orgasm. “Stop—”

“Stop?” he laughed mischievously. His tendril gave languid, broad strokes over your clit, the smooth, silicone-like feel of the tentacle lighting up your nerves, setting your skin ablaze with heat. You couldn’t help but purr in delight, bucking your hips against the foreign sensation, your pride now rendered non-existent. “Is that really what you want, love?”

You let out a sigh of pleasure, shaking your head ‘no’ and mumbling something along the lines for him to keep going, at the same time cursing yourself for being so shameless.

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” another man stated. He was blonde, dressed in green—reminiscent of Link from Legend of Zelda—and relatively slender, though what really stood out was the crimson irises he possessed, complete with ebony scleras. “Turning your ‘love’ into a mindbroken fucktoy, even I wouldn’t be so heartless.”

“It’s a fitting and effective punishment,” Slenderman explained, his voice nonchalant though you didn’t fail to catch the hint of perverse enjoyment evident in his tone.

The blonde shrugged, not commenting further on the topic, instead turning to Jeff and asking him a question.

“You cool with a blowjob?” he grinned.

“From you or her?” Jeff replied, causing the blonde man to roll his scarlet eyes.

“Who do you think?” the blonde shot him what appeared to be a playful glare, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, I’m happy with fucking that pretty face of hers,” Jeff answered, the maniacal smile ever so present on his face.

“Bet.” The man dressed in green then turned to Slenderman. “Boss, am I good to fuck her on the bed or you want her to stay on your lap?”

“As I said, Ben, you’re free to do with her whatever you want.” As he finished his sentence, he loosened his grip, the tendrils uncoiling from your limbs and letting your body fall free.

Ben then turned to you.

“You heard him,” he stated. “Get on the bed.”

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows with shaky arms, inelegantly swinging your legs over Slenderman’s lap, your feet touching the wooden floor. As soon as you stood up, you could feel warm fluid dripping down your thigh, some of it landing on the ground with a small splat. You tried to pretend it didn’t happen, instead crawling onto the bed and sitting down on it, pulling your legs into your chest, holding them with your arms. Your eyes were looking down at your own knees, too shy to meet the gaze of the two men that were about to be having sex with you.

“Good girl,” Ben cooed at you, seconds before he climbed onto the bed, arms pushing your torso down, your back falling flat against the thankfully soft, plush mattress, head sinking into the material.

“Hm,” he seemed to be thinking. “Actually, scoot up.” You were about to follow his instructions when he picked your body up with surprising ease considering his lean frame, and brought you over to the one side of the bed, setting you down. His hand was on your chest, pushing it down onto the mattress though this time your head didn’t meet anything solid, instead dangling a bit off the edge.

“Not bad,” Jeff chuckled, walking over to stand next to you. You peered up at him, heartbeat once again starting to race as he began undoing his black dress pants, pulling them down alongside his underwear.

His cock was half-erect, practically hovering mere centimetres over your face, and you realized then how they planned to do this.

“Alright, doll, open that pretty mouth of yours for me,” he said, leering at you from above.

You parted your lips, and he wasted no time putting his member in your mouth, the organ growing firmer and firmer as you took it in, trying to wrap your lips around it, moving your tongue alongside the shaft.

“That’s perfect,” Jeff groaned. “You’re such a good whore.”

You were doing your best to suck Jeff’s cock that was now fully erect and filling your mouth, when Ben’s hands reached towards your chest, giving your breasts a tentative squeeze. His movements soon grew rougher, fingers groping and playing with the mounds of flesh on your chest, soon bringing his mouth down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

Your eyes widened, though you couldn’t make any noise, with Jeff languidly pumping in and out of your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip, the taste of pre-cum mixing with your saliva.

Ben continued toying with your nipples, alternating between sucking on them, twirling his tongue against the hardened bud, and even nipping at them, the sensation causing goosebumps to break out over your skin, your hair follicles standing on end as you shuddered from his touch.

You felt his other hand snake down towards your waist, grabbing at your hips before taking hold of your thigh, squishing the tender inner area. He let go of your nipple with a wet popping sound, your eyes instantly turning towards the wall to your side, feeling your face heat up once again.

He brought his head down, taking the soft part of your thigh into his mouth, sucking on the flesh, his teeth gently grazing the surface of your skin, the action sure to leave marks as soon as he let go, though he repeated the process multiple times after, getting closer and closer to your cunt.

He licked at your clit, the feeling sending sparks of pleasure flying, before he took the sensitive nub between his lips, and you could feel the wet, warm suction that you couldn’t help but melt into.

“Use more tongue,” Jeff demanded, his rough voice pulling you out of your euphoria for a split second. You tried to focus on doing as he said, however, Ben’s mouth lapping at your clit, and his fingers that were beginning to fuck into you were too distracting.

You could feel him curve his fingers to skillfully rub at your g-spot, causing you to buck your hips up at him, wanting more.

“God,” you could just hear the smirk in his voice as he pulled his fingers out, leaving you unbearably empty. “You really are a slut. You want it that badly?”

You couldn’t respond, mouth still busy pleasuring Jeff, but Slenderman took it upon himself to reply in your place.

“It appears that she does.” The supernatural creature reached one of his pale, enormous hands towards your cunt, feeling your entrance, slick and slippery with your own juices. “I doubt all of this is just cum.”

When he retracted his hand, you felt the weight of the bed shift slightly, as Ben got himself into position to fuck you, picking your hips up and aligning his cock with your entrance.

He plunged himself in, the feeling of his shaft filling up your needy insides was nothing short of heavenly, and he didn’t bother wasting any time—it wasn’t like you needed to adjust—as he began thrusting in and out of you at a rapid but steady pace.

As he was fucking you, he lifted your legs up and over his shoulders, allowing himself to be able to go deeper, the tip of his cock brushing up against your cervix.

You found yourself getting lost in the pleasure once more, simply letting go of any rational thought and permitting yourself to enjoy getting fucked like a slut.

Jeff was simultaneously breathing heavily as he rutted into your mouth, and you could anticipate it when he began to near, but to your surprise, he pulled out of your mouth.

Instead, you watched as he stroked his cock, hands gripping the length and jerking himself off for the few seconds before he came, moaning, his cum spurting out from the head of his cock and splattering over your face. Some of the translucent fluid splashed on your half-lidded eyes, sticking to your eyelashes, while some landed in your still open mouth, the rest staining both your skin and hair.

“That was lovely,” Jeff grinned—as always. “Thanks for the service, doll.”

You only nodded, gasping for air and inhaling sharp breaths as you greedily sucked in a proper amount of oxygen.

That didn’t stop you from letting out moans in between inhales, Ben drilling into you and making work of your insides; wet, vulgar slapping noises filling the room.

You didn’t expect it when he let go of your legs—though they remained hoisted over his shoulders—and reached out towards you, wrapping his hands around your neck.

Ben applied pressure to the sides of your neck as he continued thrusting into you, picking up the pace as you instinctively reached for his wrists, grabbing onto them although you knew you had no chance of prying them off had you wanted to do so. Somehow, the thought of that further spurred you on, amplifying your arousal as you started feeling lightheaded, blood no longer flowing to your head as it should be.

To your surprise, it was under those circumstances that you felt fire in your abdomen, each slap of his hips against yours making you inadvertently grind up against him as pressure built up inside you, his quick yet steady movements bringing you to the edge.

He still hadn’t let go of your neck when your gut tightened, shockwaves gripping your body as you reached your crescendo. For a second you were floating in space, the room blurring from the cut off blood supply, spinning and hazing over with white light as your gut tightened, back arching and toes curling, your cunt clenching at his cock.

You only noticed that his hold around your throat was gone when the room went back to normal, the colours returning and shapes forming once more as your vision cleared up. As your sight sharpened, you could see Ben moving away from you, a tired laugh leaving his lips as he sat down on the bed. You realized that he, too, had came at some point, the evidence being the semen that you could feel seeping out from your cunt, dirtying the bed, though that didn’t matter to you.

“She’s practically gone,” you heard Ben comment. “You sure she can keep going?”

“She will have to,” Slenderman replied. “Our last guest has been waiting patiently, after all. She doesn’t have a choice.”

“You really are cruel,” Ben’s tone was lighthearted, though it didn’t feel like he was completely joking. You paid it no mind, however, but rather focused on Slenderman’s words.

One last guest, you thought. You wondered who it would be, and what they were like as you looked up at the ceiling with a vacant gaze.

You didn’t have to wonder for long, because the final guest that Slenderman spoke of was already walking towards you, his footsteps echoing in the chamber you were in, stopping beside you. What was formerly a blank ceiling in your sight was now replaced with a tall, very tall man, donning a doctor’s coat and navy blue mask, a viscous, tar-like liquid trickling from the eye sockets. He hovered there for a few seconds, seemingly inspecting you—though you couldn’t tell—before speaking.

“Get up.” The sound of his voice was enough to startle you out of your daze. It was nothing like you’d ever heard before, the only thing coming close enough would have been Slenderman’s voice, which was deep, resonant, and laced with static. The blue masked man’s voice on the other hand, was gravelly and smooth, but with an unmistakable inhuman edge to it, almost like a demonic rasp.

You didn’t move, instead laid there stunned, though it was dumb of you to do so. How could you not expect other creatures, after knowing Slenderman himself? You had made the mistake of letting yourself get too accustomed to the previous five men, that were all seemingly mortal.

“Get up, darling,” the blue masked man repeated himself. You could already hear the hunger in his voice, something of a completely different essence than the lust the previous men had emanated.

You rolled over, pushing yourself up with quivering arms, stepping off the bed with equally shaky legs.

When you first thought of this man as tall, you had expected him to be two metres or so, but seeing him, you’d guess that he was at least thirty centimetres above your naïve, foolish expectations.

Standing next to him, your head was barely at his chest. The sensation of someone towering over you in the way he did was something you had only experienced with the eldritch entity that kidnapped you, though Slenderman was somehow even taller than that.

Explains why the ceilings are so high in this mansion, you thought to yourself.

The blue masked man peered down at you, with a curiosity that made you think of the way scientists would look at guinea pigs. You could feel a chill run down your spine, fear crawling alongside every ridge and bone, your fingers trembling as you tried to maintain your composure. However, you weren’t sure what it was that you were trying to contain anymore, the instinctual fear that you felt, or the carnal, primal desire that was threatening to overtake you once more.

The blue masked man lifted a hand, and it was only then that you realized his skin was grey. You blinked, wondering if your vision was just hazy still but to your thrill horror, you weren’t mistaken.

It wasn’t that he was pale, or perhaps sick. No, he was unmistakably grey, with darker veins running through the back of his hand, and sharp, onyx nails.

You couldn’t bring yourself to move or run away when he brushed your hair behind your ear, an almost innocent, even lovely gesture had you not been in the situation you were in.

His fingers trailed down to your neck, the sharpness of his nails dangerously teasing at your skin, sending continuous shudders in your body the entire way. He stopped at your shoulder, gripping it as he used his other hand to push his mask up, revealing the same grey skin and lips.

But what really surprised you was when he opened his mouth, revealing a set of razor sharp teeth, which opened to showcase something even more horrific—three forked, twisting black tongues.

With wide eyes, you reflexively stumbled backwards, though his hand on your shoulder stopped you before you made it even two full steps.

He leaned his head down, all three tongues touching your body. One at your jaw, one at your jugular, and the last at your collarbone, all flicking against the surface of your skin at the same time. The sensation was one of electricity, lightning bolts and sparks, your body reacting to his touch in a way you’d never experienced before, causing you to make a sound akin to both a whimper and gasp.

The man chuckled, a dark, rumbly, yet oddly salacious sound.

“You’ll be delicious,” he grinned, flashing his shark like teeth.

“Jack, you can use her however you please,” Slenderman cut in. “But do refrain from eating her, please.”

Eating? Surely he didn’t mean what you thought he meant—were you really about to get fucked by a flesh-eating demon?

That thought didn’t turn you off as much as it should have. If anything, you felt the ache between your thighs begin to throb once more, and you involuntarily clenched them, pressing them together.

“I’ll do my best not to,” Jack responded, the grin not leaving his face for a single second, not until he put his mask back down, at least. You nervously nibbled on your bottom lip, anxiously yet eagerly waiting for his move.

Jack didn’t start right away; he appeared to be studying you, likely thinking of what exactly he should do with you—how exactly he should fuck you. But you’d be lying to yourself that the anticipation wasn’t getting the best of you, the sexual tension in the air growing thicker and heavier by the second.

It was when you felt like you couldn’t wait any longer, somehow feeling impatient, almost, that he finally did something, though it wasn’t what you expected.

Jack sat down on the edge of the bed, lazily leaning back a bit before addressing you.

“Come here,” he beckoned you with his fingers.

As if you were hypnotized, you found yourself happily climbing over his legs and sitting on his lap, your ass pressed against his crotch and hands on his shoulders.

“You seem pretty worn out,” Jack casually stated, as if it was a simple observation, like the sky being blue or the grass being green. “You think you can handle me, sweetheart?”

You gazed into his eyes, twin abysses in Neptune’s mask, almost deliriously as you nodded.

Jack only hummed, both hands going to his ears to remove the midnight blue mask from his face.

“Good,” he said, all sharp teeth and smiles as he took the mask off, laying it aside on the bed, his features now revealed.

You weren’t sure what you had expected, but he was oddly attractive, with elegant bone structure and fluttering, dark eyelashes, though they covered something far more sinister—a set of hollowed out eye sockets.

You couldn’t help but let your jaw fall, mouth agape at the sight. You weren’t too sure how you were still finding things to be astonished over, though the mansion so far had been a continuous chain of surprises.

Jack put his hands on your hips, grasping at your asscheeks, his nails scratching the surface of your skin, causing a small squeak to leave your lips. A sly smirk formed on his ashen face, seconds before he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Ragged breaths left your lips as he took your skin into his mouth, his fangs scraping against your throat before letting it go, the slight sting making you let out a sharp hiss, though it was quickly overshadowed by the intoxicating warmth of his tongues dancing along the tiny incisions he left.

The way he sucked on your neck would be similar to the way Ben did with your thighs, if it weren’t for the starvation that he devoured you with, an abundance of scratches littering half of your upper body, scattered from just below your jawbone all the way to your shoulder, some even dipping down to your collarbone.

You didn’t need to see it to know the minuscule drops of blood beading at the faint incision lines, quickly lapped up by one of his many tongues, Jack almost purring, a contented noise leaving his lips as he tasted you.

Amidst the concoction of pleasurable feelings—his mouth greedily consuming you, his fingers toying with the flesh of your ass—you could feel his crotch stiffen beneath your thighs, the feeling of his bulge rubbing up against you ever so tantalizing.

You didn’t even realize your satisfied hums, nor the way you ground your hips against the hardness in his pants, your lust fully taking control of both your body and mind. It didn’t slip past Jack’s attention, though, because he then lifted his head back up and away from your faintly lacerated yet heavily bruised neck.

You couldn’t help but think that you liked the hickeys he had left on you; there was something titillating about him marking you.

As if he could read your thoughts, Jack spoke.

“Look at you,” he drawled. “Getting so worked up already, and I’ve barely even touched you.” As he spoke, he let go of your behind, instead dipping his hand underneath to slide two fingers up your cunt, sticky and drenched with arousal. You moaned, feeling his fingers fill you. Despite his hand being much larger than the average male’s, his digits easily fit inside you with how wet you were.

When he pulled his fingers out, you couldn’t help but whine at the lack of sensation, rubbing your cunt against his visibly hardened crotch, desperate for more friction.

Jack only laughed as he brought his fingers up to your lips, where you could clearly see the fluids that coated his fingers, slick and glistening.

“Come on,” he urged you, a twisted smile on his lips. You felt your face heat up for the—honestly, you lost count by now—time that day as you parted your lips, letting him put his fingers in the warm cavern of your mouth. You sucked on them, tasting your own juices, cleaning your mess off of his digits.

When he retracted them from your mouth, he proceeded to pause once more, seeming analyzing you. You were both curious and ludicrously excited to see what he would want from you next.

“On your knees, darling,” he instructed, and you obeyed without a second thought, swinging your legs over his lap and kneeling down on the floor below him, ignoring the dull ache of your knees against the solid floor.

“Let me ask you again,” Jack repeated his earlier question as he started to undo his pants. “You really think you can handle me?”

You gulped, swallowing the saliva that had pooled in your mouth as you anticipated what was next, nodding nervously.

“Good.” His grin was larger than ever as he pulled his pants down, tugging his boxers off a second later.

Your eyes enlarged impossibly wide at the sight before you.

His cock was a similar colour to the rest of him, albeit a bit darker, though that was the least surprising aspect of it. What truly shocked you, rather, was the sheer size of his erection, standing tall at a length comparable to the size of your own head. Dark, prominent veins ran through the organ, adding to its monstrous appearance. The tip had a glossy sheen to it, wet with what was likely pre-cum.

You stared at the scene before you, your brain stuck on processing the fact that this monstrosity would be going inside of you, unsure how to react.

Jack languidly picked up a strand of your hair, twirling it around his fingers for a second before letting it drop.

“Go on,” he taunted. “Is something wrong?” You could tell he was amused by your reaction; he had clearly expected this to happen. You could only timidly shake your head.

“No,” you mumbled.

“Then what are we waiting for, dear?” Jack chuckled darkly.

With shaking hands, you reached out for Jack’s member, placing one hand on his knee to steady yourself and the other wrapping around his shaft, giving it an experimental stroke before you brought your mouth to the head. Your tongue glided over the tip of his cock, the briny taste of pre-cum melting into your tastebuds.

Jack let out a satisfied sigh, and you took it as a sign to keep going, wrapping your lips around the head of his member, bobbing your head up and down as your hand steadily pumped his cock in matching rhythm.

Your jaw was already tired and aching from the previous ‘sessions’ you had with the other men, but the intimidating girth of his cock filled your entire mouth, making it even more uncomfortable and difficult.

You glanced up at Jack, who was looking down at you with an expression of both intrigue and satisfaction as you continued stroking his length. It wasn’t long before you felt your jaw cramping up, muscles throbbing in discomfort, causing you to stop. You pulled your mouth off of his cock with a wet popping noise, instead choosing to lap at the head while your hands did the rest of the work.

“So weak,” Jack scoffed. “And you thought you could handle me.”

You whimpered, pausing for a second to speak to him.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, though the way his words electrified your entire being far outweighed any part of your feeling bad.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Jack brushed your apology off, instead offering his own solution. “You’ll just have to make up for it when I’m fucking you. After all, I’m sure that dripping wet cunt of yours will be able to handle me.”

You couldn’t help but gasp, his words sending a sharp pang of arousal straight to your gut. He took clear note of your reaction, a smug smile on his face as he spoke.

“You really like when I talk to you like that, don’t you?” Jack asked. “You dumb little whore.”

“Y-Yes,” you squeaked; his words were nothing short of arousing for you.

“Oh, I am going to fuck you stupid,” Jack declared. And honestly—you were more than looking forward to it. “Get back on my lap.”

You got back up to your feet, alleviating your weight from your knees, something that was a relief.

You only realized what would happen as you were about to climb back over his lap, the sudden thought striking you then that you were expected to not just sit on his lap, but also sit on his cock.

As turned on as you were, you still found the size of his cock to be daunting, though as your insides clenched around nothing, you came to the conclusion that you wanted to be filled by that enormous cock of his.

You climbed over his thighs, hands gripping his shoulders to hold yourself up as you let him position you, his hand holding your waist still, the other positioning himself at your entrance before you lowered yourself onto his member.

You felt the tip sink into you, with relative ease due to your wetness, though it wasn’t until the upper part of his shaft had gone in that you started really feeling his girth, your walls forced to stretch to accommodate his size. The sensation quickly went from pleasurable and fulfilling to painful, your cunt resisting as your walls expanded to their limit. You stopped there, taking a second to catch your breath, your eyes watering from the pain and legs trembling.

“I apologize, sweetheart,” Jack said. “But we’re not done yet.”

With both hands on your waist, he forced your hips down to meet his, his cock stabbing through you, only stopping as it slammed against your cervix. You cried out loudly, thrashing against him as both the agony of his cock brutally colliding with your cervix as well as the sharp pains of your insides being strained by the width of his organ flooding your senses.

No matter how much you struggled and wailed, Jack didn’t let go of your hips, holding your lower body still, his cock fully sheathed in your warmth.

Thankfully, he didn’t start fucking you right away, allowing you some time to adjust to the violent penetration, the terrible throbbing gradually fading into a dull, though still painful ache.

As the initial pain subsided, you stopped squirming as much. That was when Jack brought his hand down at your point of connection, his thumb rubbing slow circles around your clit, stimulating the nerves and instantly sending signals of pleasure to your brain. Despite the still-aching throbbing between your legs, you felt your arousal heighten once more. Perhaps the pain was amplifying the pleasure that you felt; you weren’t sure.

All you knew was that you wanted more, your body moving on its own, hips bucking against Jack’s hand for more.

When his hand left your clit to instead take hold of your hips again, you whined in dissatisfaction, but he merely chuckled, before gently giving you a bounce on his cock.

The action elicited a small moan from you, a mixture of both pain and pleasure, which he took as a sign to keep going, moving your hips up and down as you clung onto his shoulders, mewling.

As he continued to lift your hips, pounding away at your insides, your moans slowly filled with more and more delight. Your breaths were heavy while his remained inhumanly calm, though the one thing you shared in common was your animalistic desire for each other, his hips snapping against yours as he viciously fucked into you, ravaging your insides with each thrust.

His cock rubbed against every last inch of your walls, not a singular spot missed, the tip making impact with your g-spot each time he plunged into you, while at the same time his cock had sank so deep into your guts that your pelvis was pressed up right against his, allowing blissful friction against your swollen clit.

His thrusts were growing more violent, though he didn’t seem to tire in the slightest as he handled your body with ease, using you like a ragdoll.

You were bouncing up and down on his cock so fast and so harshly that you could barely distinguish one thrust from the other, Jack pounding away at your cunt, your walls gripping him deliciously as you senselessly moaned.

You were practically seeing stars, body burning up all over, the only sound being the lewd, slick slapping noises of your drenched lips against his skin. The tension building up inside you was too much, your arousal peaking off the charts as he used your dripping cunt, before your clit rubbed against him one too many times and you were shaking, body convulsing, hips spasming as you screamed out his name.

He kept mercilessly fucking you, his cock hammering at your cervix though the pain barely affected you anymore, your muscles tightening around him, squeezing and squeezing before finally your body went limp. You felt a few more thrusts inside you, before he then undoubtedly also had his release, filling you with his seed as your walls loosened around him.

You felt so faint, your mind barely conscious or aware of what was taking place as he lifted you off of his cock, semen instantly flowing out of your used cunt and spilling down your thighs as he placed you down on the bed. Your back was against the soft sheets, your eyes vacantly staring up at the ceiling, completely inanimate save for the occasional twitch of your hips.

You didn’t pay attention to what was happening, didn’t even notice Jack leaving, didn’t even realize the hands that slipped underneath you, one holding your thighs and the other supporting your back, lifting you up into the air.

You couldn’t even tell what was occurring around you, your breaths coming out ragged and uneven, eyes unfocused, body completely limp.

You only regained some awareness back, when Slenderman spoke, his voice intruding into your skull and ringing in your ears.

“Oh dear,” he murmured, his voice filled with false concern. “My little toy seems to have broken.”

He was referring to you. You, his little toy. That was right, you were Slenderman’s little fucktoy. Somehow, the thought of that brought a dazed smile to your face.

“I suppose I’ll just have to make do with what I have,” he stated, the vibrations prickling at your mind. “Though...”

His words trailed off as two of his tentacles moved about, each taking hold of one of your arms. Two more appeared, curling themselves around your thighs, holding up your weight as his hands left your body.

With the four tendrils lifting your weight, you found yourself suspended in midair, practically floating as he brought his hand to your leaking cunt, long, pale fingers parting your swollen lips and inserting themselves in you.

“That cunt of yours is rather loose now, dear.”

You whimpered, the sting of his words only serving to send more heat pooling between your thighs, though you couldn’t do anything to alleviate the need building up inside you, with all your limbs bound and movement restricted.

His thumb brushed against your swollen nub as his fingers curled up inside you, the action making you hiss, the touch being too much for your nerves, overly sensitive from having came so many times. The jolt of discomfort was enough to make you instinctively squirm, though you were still fairly delirious.

“Feeling sensitive, darling?” he questioned, sadistic enjoyment evident in his voice. You mumbled an incoherent ‘yes,’ continuing to attempt to evade his touch, though you were firmly stuck in his place as he toyed with your clit.

“That’s too bad,” Slenderman said, his tone one of fake sympathies. “You’ll just have to suffer a bit for me then, love.”

You barely noticed, too focused on the physical sensations of discomfort when he started unbuttoning his dress pants, pushing them down just enough to take out his cock, which he lazily stroked. You weren’t too sure how big it actually was, but it felt just right when he penetrated you, a fast, singular thrust met with little resistance.

You moaned loudly, the head of his cock rubbing so divinely against your insides, though it quickly turned to strangled sobs as he started moving his hips, each thrust causing your overstimulated clit to smack against his skin. You were wriggling against him, partially shrieking from the feeling of too much as you tried to put some distance between the two of you, to no avail.

The eldritch entity continued to ruthlessly pound away at your abused, worn out cunt, squelching sounds emitting from your loosened and sopping walls.

Somewhere in between the vulgar noises of coitus, you heard a deep, almost disappointed sigh.

“What a shame,” he scoffed. “Your cunt’s worthless. I’ll have to make it tighter.”

You were confused as to what he meant by that, though you were too distracted by how sensitive you were to put much thought into it. It wasn’t until another one of his tendrils reached out, the smooth, glossy black tip poking at your asshole that the realization sunk in.

“Ah—” you gasped. “What— What are you doing—”

Your words were cut off by the sudden intrusion, the tapered tip pushing inside your hole, pain shooting through you as you yelped.

“Wait, don’t—”

Slenderman ignored your protests, the appendage working its way deeper into your guts, the slowly thickening tip gradually yet agonizingly stretching out your asshole.

Your back side hurt, combined with the continuous stimulation of your mistreated clit, the sensations were overwhelming you.

“Stop, stop, it’s too much—” you cried out, once again thrashing your hips, any effort to get away proving fruitless. “Please, I can’t, I can’t—”

You choked out sobs, eyes brimming with fresh tears as the tall man relentlessly violated your insides. You didn’t stop wailing, desperately pleading for him to stop when he raised one last tentacle, and before you knew it, shoved it past your open lips, harshly ramming it down your throat.

Your eyes bulged open as you choked on the appendage, which was completely stuffing your windpipe, effectively muffling any sounds you could’ve made.

You tried to fight, twisting and turning your body, though you were far too tired and too worn out to even resist for long, eventually simply letting your body slacken, your head slowly growing lighter from the lack of oxygen.

It felt as if you were on the verge of passing out—you likely were—when your vision started blurring, your consciousness threatening to slip away. You didn’t bother trying to hold on, merely surrendering yourself, giving up as your holes continued to be used, Slenderman’s dick thrusting in just before the tentacle pulled out, the appendage and his cock simultaneously rubbing against one another with your walls serving as a divider.

Dark dots began spotting your vision, all your holes stuffed, your clit still being hammered away at, each sensation combining with another, to the point where you couldn’t tell them apart. All you knew was that you were being impaled, your body being used as a toy for this eldritch entity, the pain fading into a plain feeling of fullness.

You closed your eyes, but though you felt like you weren’t actively doing so, you could feel your innards constrict, tightening and spasming as bliss overtook you. It was oddly euphoric, allowing the darkness to take you away, your body continuing to writhe as you orgasmed one final time.

You could feel the monster still, save for his cock, twitching lovingly inside your cunt as he, too, reached his peak, releasing and filling your womb with cum.

Something was removed from your throat, and you felt your body’s survival mechanisms kick in, your eyes suddenly snapping open, your lungs burning as you gasped and wheezed, trying to take in much needed air.

When you finally recovered, your chest still desperately heaving with each breath, you noticed that you were back on the bed, the eldritch entity sitting next to your laying down form.

Though he had no facial features, you could still feel him gaze down at you, his hand tenderly stroking your hair, mangled and matted with sweat.

“My love,” he whispered, his voice the softest you had ever heard it. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Feverish and faint, you no longer had the energy to meet where his eyes would be, so you simply closed them again, deliriously nodding your head to no one in particular.

“Yes,” you answered.

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user211201 · 1 month

Text

Branded

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Originally posted on 2020-05-27 by dumb-and-jocked

Unfortunately dumb-and-jocked's account has been deactivated.

If the original author ever reads this: thank you for all your works!

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Zane wasn’t particularly excited about going out to his uncle’s ranch. The two had never really known how to connect, with one being from the East Coast and the other in rural Wyoming. Zane had grown up privileged in the urban lifestyle, with many stores, jobs, and more progressive influences around every corner. His parents were also a little richer than most, so he was able to enjoy a luxurious apartment all to himself while he attended Yale. Well... not all to himself. His boyfriend Kaeden visited so often he was practically a second resident, but Zane didn’t mind--he loved the attention.

Zane practically adored his modern lifestyle, and made sure to show it by never leaving a five-mile radius. This caused his parents to worry, assuming if he didn’t start now he’d never know how to go out on his own. Trying to help (like all parents did), his father spoke with his brother and the two set up a little spring vacation for Zane. When Zane’s father had proposed the idea, Zane didn’t exactly jump in excitement. In fact, he didn’t seem excited at all.

“Really?” Zane asked coarsely. “Spring break is for beaches, coasts, actual fun!”

“Zane,” his father replied coolly. “I didn’t raise you to be a leech off of my own money. Go out to your uncle’s ranch and give him a hand; earn something for once. And anyway, Wyoming’s great this time of year--you might enjoy it!”

“Can I at least bring Kaeden with me?”

His father’s eyes went down for a moment. Zane always had a lurking feeling that his father wasn’t truly alright with his only son being gay, his Western Christian roots molding him that way, but his dad always acted like he was accepting. Proving Zane’s point, he swore he could’ve seen his dad’s ears perk up a second after the proposal was made.

“That’s a great idea!” his dad cheered, almost too enthusiastically. “Now someone can relish in the same pain you’ll be experiencing.” Zane rolled his eyes in response to the sarcasm before walking out to his car.

Reflecting back on that moment, his father did seem a little more eager than usual, but Zane didn’t care. It was too late now, as the old pickup truck was pulling into the driveway of the ranch. A huge arch loomed above them, displaying “WELCH” in iron letters across the top. Back when it used to be his grandparents’ ranch, Zane’s father loved this place. He used to thrive as a cowboy, but once he got a taste of the other side of the Mississippi, he left the lifestyle behind him. The rest of the family seemed alright with the transition, with Zane’s uncle being the older brother anyway, meaning he would be taking the ranch, so they decided to let him roam. His uncle had now been running the ranch for almost ten years, just him, his wife, and a small crew to help with the daily tasks.

“Alright, boys, enjoy the trip,” the man in the front grunted as he halted to a stop. Kaeden and Zane slowly jumped out of the truck, grabbing their bags as they looked at the massive farm. Zane swore it looked bigger than the last time he was here, but that was to be expected. The last time he was here was a decade ago for his grandparents’ funerals, so there was probably going to be change. While Kaedan gazed around in awe, Zane spotted what--or who--he was looking for. Leaning against one looming building was a tall man wearing a blue button-up and worn-out jeans. His large boots were placed firmly on the ground and a barn wall, while a beige hat rested proudly on top of his head. He looked like a more muscular, worn-out version of his father, his similar salt and pepper stubble pulling the whole look together.

“Zaney boy, is that yeu?” the man asked in astonishment, the southern accent as prominent as ever.

“Yeah, Uncle Treyton.”

Zane tried to sound enthusiastic, but he never felt like family with the redneck. Not only did the two have completely different perspectives, but they didn’t even look related. Zane didn’t share the same muscular body as the silver fox, but instead had a little too much meat on his bones. He also didn’t get the Welch height, with Zane’s lime-dyed hair barely even reaching his uncle’s neck.

“And this must be Kaeden Sargent, put it here!”

Zane’s uncle shoved a meaty hand in front of him and Kaeden quickly accepted. He was always more optimistic than Zane, putting his best foot forward into every situation. The tall, lanky man took the other’s hand and shook it vigorously, so much in fact that his ginger curls bounced in a rhythm. Fortunately, the baby fat surrounding his face allowed him to act a little childish.

“Firm, that’ll go a long ways here, son.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“Ah, y’all can call me Treyton.”

Kaeden and Zane exchanged looks at each other. For a Christian cowboy, he was awfully accepting of their relationship. Neither of them expected Zane’s uncle to be so understanding.

“Where’s Aunt Joelene at?” Zane inquired as they hauled their bags inside.

“Her and the lady folk already had a vacation planned, so she ain’t gonna be here this week. Just some good ‘ol male bonding!”

He led them to two guest rooms on opposite sides of a hallway, telling them to toss their individual bags into one or the other. Zane and Kaeden exchanged looks again, although this time it was for a different reason. They both knew they might be staying in different rooms, but not sleeping.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang from the front of the house. After dropping their things, Zane and Kaedan followed Treyton back out to the front door. The trio wandered out to the foyer to see another cowboy smugly standing on the porch.

“Harry!” Treyton shouted as he swung the door open. “‘Bout time ya got here--the nephew’s in town.”

Harry looked over at Zane, inspecting him and then Kaeden with hawk eyes. His tight black shirt didn’t hide the impressive muscles from years on the farm. The same could be said for his faded jeans and massive belt buckle, both of which did nothing to camouflage his gargantuan pouch.

“Is yers that paddy?” he remarked with a deep voice, his accent as thick as Treyton’s. “Or the fag.”

“They’re both fags,” Treyton corrected. “The paddy’s his ‘boyfriend’.”

Kaeden patted Zane’s shoulder in a comforting way. Treyton’s language had just confirmed that they had signed themselves up for a long vacation.

“I don’t mean to be abandonin’ y’all so quickly, but the town’s rodeo’s goin’ on tonight and I’m a volunteerin’,” Zane’s uncle began. “Everythin’ there is free, so I expect to see y’all out there. It’ll be a great time!”

The two hicks strutted over to Harry’s old pickup truck, the engine roaring mighty proud as it came to life. Zane and Kaedan wondered how they hadn’t heard it coming down the driveway.

“Keys are on the counter!” Treyton hollered as they drove off. Kaeden smirked lowering his hand from Zane’s shoulder to his butt as they watched the other pair leave.

“Might as well taint your uncle’s house before we go to the rodeo.”

“You really want to go to that thing?” Zane whined, missing the hint.

“No, but we should,” Kaeden replied. “Until then, let me keep you entertained.” He then started kissing Zane’s neck passionately, dragging him down a hallway.

“Alright!” Zane giggled, following along. He loved his boyfriend.

— —

Kaeden and Zane hesitantly pulled into the parking lot, the dirt flying into the air as they parked the rusty pickup near the back. The whole event took place in some kind of stadium, but instead of a neatly trimmed field with shiny seats, there were wooden bleachers and a dirt floor. They weren’t particularly excited, going from hardcore sex to this dump, but as long as they were at each other’s sides they’d make it through. At least, that’s what Zane kept telling himself.

The two cautiously jumped out, wearing sweatpants and matching concert tees from an event they went to on their fifth date. Zane had thought that if they wore their most casual clothes, they’d blend into the crowd, but it turned out this was truly his first rodeo. Walking up to the front gate, they saw a rainbow of button-ups scattered among the stretched and stained tees. Hicks and cowboys galore excitedly hollered as they entered the rodeo grounds. The strange thing was, it seemed like people were gathering by color. Zane and Kaeden watched the red button-ups slowly separate from the yellow tees, who themselves avoided the purple plaid-clad group. Even with the odd formation, the pair stuck out like two weeds in a freshly-planted garden.

“Alright next!”

Zane and Kaeden had been so perplexed by the entire situation that they hadn’t noticed they had crossed the parking lot, gotten in line, and made it to the front.

“Zaney boy, ya made it!”

Zane’s uncle proudly stood behind a booth, waving as the boyfriends walked up. Harry was placed on the other side, his look much more calculating than Treyton’s inviting smile.

“Are y’all excited?” Uncle Treyton asked, his accent coming out stronger with each syllable.

“Totally,” Kaeden answered, assuming his other half wouldn’t.

“Let us just stamp y’all and yeu’ll be on in.”

“Wait, why are we the only one’s getting stamped?” Kaedan observed. Zane hadn’t noticed, but all the other attendees had gotten in without a mark.

“Remember how I said y’all are gettin’ in free tonight,” Treyton explained. “This is yer free ticket.”

They nodded their heads as Kaeden extended the back of his hand out to Zane’s uncle. Treyton solidly pressed a stamp down on his hand, the blue color left behind sinking deep into his pale skin like a tattoo. Zane proceeded to do the same for Harry, who marked his hand with a black darker than the night itself.

“What do the colors mean?” Zane questioned.

“Whatever ink we’re usin’.” Harry snarked, sending him on his way. Zane sighed as he strolled through the gate.

“I’ll be at a food stand later tonight so make sure to come and visit me!” Treyton shouted as they disappeared into the crowd.

“We can do this,” Kaeden whispered, grabbing Zane’s hand and dragging him to the stands. He sounded reassuring, but Zane couldn’t tell if it was for him or Kaedan himself.

“It’s just for tonight,” Kaedan continued, “After that, we won’t have to deal with Harry, or anyone for that matter. Except for your uncle of course.”

Zane grinned--his boyfriend always knew how to cheer him up.

“And besides,” Kaeden continued. “Look at how much we have to explore!”

It might have been a bit exaggerated, but there was a some space to venture. Besides the stands, there were a few porta potties, some food stands, and a big tent filled with gear for the local country radio station. The tent was their first destination, looking through all the merchandise and advertisements. Although they both hated country music, they had fun exploring the booth, even signing up for a raffle to a Chase Rice concert. Did they know who he was? No--but they didn’t care. Even though they got a few sideways glances from passing families and couples, they were actually enjoying their time at the rodeo. Zane and Kaeden were there to have fun just like everyone else.

9.8 SECONDS! THAT WAS A GOOD TUSSLE, DAVE!

The pair watched on as the participant was whipped off the horse’s back. The first few rounds had looked painful, but Kaeden and Zane eventually stopped flinching after every contestant. It was the sport after all, so they shouldn’t be worried unless everyone else was worried. The uncomfortable thing was, everyone at the rodeo did seem slightly on edge, but it wasn’t over the participants. Unsurprisingly, it was over them.

“Hey,” Zane said, elbowing his partner to grab his attention. “Is it me or is there something strange about the crowd here?”

“You mean how they’re all looking at us like we’re sick?” Kaeden asked, not tearing his eyes away from the next contestant.

8.7 SECONDS! IMPRESSIVE GRIP FROM HANK!

“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know, I mean…” Zane stumbled off, noticing Kaeden was still focused on the riders.

9.4 SECONDS! NICE JOB MARV!

“Earth to Kaedan!” Zane snapped, finally snatching the other’s attention. “For example, did we miss out on some color-coded theme? Why is everyone segregated?”

Kaeden glanced around the stands, noticing what his boyfriend was talking about. Although everyone was clumped together, there were noticeable separations. It seemed like groups of men, women, and children were organized by the shading of their clothes. It was peculiar, but so were most small, rural towns.

“Calm down, babe,” Kaeden replied nonchalantly. “It’s probably just some cheerleading thing, you know? Like someone’s family wears orange because their their fanclub.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Zane conceded.

10.1 SECONDS! I’D EXPECT NOTHING LESS FROM RYLAN!

“You’re probably just paranoid from all the homophobia around here,” Kaeden reasoned. “But luckily, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

“Oh really,” Zane responded coyly.

“Definitely, meet me at your uncle’s food stand and I’ll get us some snacks.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna head to a restroom first.”

“Miss me!” Kaeden exclaimed as he rushed down the risers. Zane grinned, knowing he was lucky to have snagged his boyfriend.

— —

“Ah! Sorry,” Zane grunted as he shimmied out of the porta potty door, noticing the growing line that had assembled outside. He thought he hadn’t taken too long, but when one’s bowels beg for release, one has to give in. Walking with a little pep in his step, he eagerly bounced his way around the rodeo grounds to find his uncle’s food stand. Kaeden knew Zane had a soft spot for food, which was pretty evident by the soft spots around his hips. He was excited to see what he had gotten for him. After wandering around for a minute, he finally spotted his uncle stepping outside an old trailer.

“Uncle Treyton!” Zane shouted as he approached.

“Eh, Zane! What’s up? Enjoyin’ the rodeo?”

“I guess?” Zane replied honestly. “Have you seen Kaeden?”

“Ah yeah, he was my last customer for the night. I saw him walkin’ over to the picnic area,” Treyton grunted, locking the door to the trailer as he closed up.

“Thanks!” Zane responded, beginning to walk off.

“Hold on there, cowboy!” Treyton demanded, chuckling at his own irony. “I’m gonna be headin’ back to the ranch, gotta long day of work tomorrow, so make sure y’all don’t stay out too late.”

“Sounds good, Uncle Treyton!” Zane started again, desperately wanting to get back to Kaeden.

“AND!” Treyton emphasized. “Harry wanted to see ya ‘bout somethin’ before ya left. He should be at the stables.”

“Great, thanks!” Zane tore off, almost kicking up the dirt behind him as he darted back towards the porta potties. He made it to the picnic area in record time, almost panting as he slowed down. The so-called “picnic area” was really just a group of tables resting behind the bleachers, with no real purpose besides having a surface to eat at. Zane searched for Kaeden, but it seemed like the place was totally empty. The only person he saw was a man sitting alone, ravenously scarfing down an order of nachos. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up and the same straight, overused jeans as every other man at the rodeo. He also adorned a cowboy hat, a quite brawny body, and a bulge much larger than both Kaedan and Zane’s combined. The cowboy looked to be in his late 20’s, but his brunette chin strap and mustache combo made him seem older. Zane approached the other man delicately, noticing the redneck’s very large boots tap eagerly as he chowed on his food.

“Um, excuse me…” Zane mumbled quietly. “I was wondering if-”

“Zane!” the man jumped up from his seat. “I was worryin’ ‘bout you! Thought you might’ve gotten stuck er somethin’.” Zane shook his head, confused at who the low-pitched, southern gent was exactly.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Zane, it’s Clayton!” he paused, waiting for Zane to remember.

“Clayton Sherman?” Zane was still bewildered, until something clicked in his head.

“Wait, Kaedan?”

“No, Clayton. Didja hit yer head or somethin’?”

Zane felt a little crazy, but something supernatural was pulling him towards this stranger. He didn’t know what the force was, but his curiosity guided him.

“One sec, just let me check something.”

Zane grabbed Clayton’s right hand swiftly, finding the same blue stamp that his boyfriend had received earlier. Although it had faded dramatically, it was good enough proof for Zane.

“Kaedan, what happened to you? How did you become like this? What happened after you left the stand?” Zane must have been hallucinating. There was no way his long, slim, ginger lover had become some horse-kickin’, tobacco-spittin’ cowboy, right?

“First off, it’s Clayton,” Clayton responded calmly. “And I did exactly what I said I would. I went to yer uncle’s stand and got us some food. He told me he’d give us ‘somethin’ special’ and slapped my hand, saying it would be on the house. Can you believe it? These darn nachos were free!”

“Alright,” Zane quickly remarked. “Then what?”

“Well, I waited for ya, but the nachos kept lookin’ at me. So, I thought ya wouldn’t mind if I took a bite. One bite became two, then three, and now we’re here.” Clayton showed Zane the empty box, beaming a childish smile.

“Kaedan, I don’t under-”

Suddenly, Zane grabbed his head as he felt a shock go through his skull. He grimaced as it coursed through his brain, causing him to shake momentarily before regaining his thoughts. As fast as the pain had come, it had disappeared too.

“Y’all ok there?” Clayton asked, patting Zane’s shoulder in a brotherly way.

“Yeah, I think so,” Zane blinked. “What were we talking about again?”

“How I ate all the food!” Clayton hollered, laughing at himself in a low guffaw. “We oughta get back to the rodeo though, Little Petey’s going up soon.”

“Little Petey?” Zane mumbled to himself as the two hoisted themselves up. At first, he didn’t recognize the name, but the more he thought about it, the more memories that seemed to appear. Little Petey was Clayton’s little brother of course! Both Clayton and Pete Sherman were expert horse riders, having both broken records for steer wrestling and bull riding. They’d also been the star quarterbacks for the town back in their prime, but now with Pete turning 26 and Clayton having his second kid on the way, they were ready to settle down and start (or continue) their families.

“Yeah! I gotta run on back to Cassie and Trevor. Nice seein’ ya round these parts again!”

Clayton tossed the empty carton into the trash and ran off back to the stands. Zane watched the man dash up the wooden bleachers to his wife and first boy, embracing them as he sat down to continue watching the show. He sunk right back into the cluster of blue, completely camouflaged by the other people in the crowd. Zane didn’t really know Clayton, just remembered him as someone who worked at his uncle’s farm. He seemed nice, but definitely not friend-material. He had a little too much homophobia and country in him. Zane stopped for a moment to correct himself. Clayton didn’t have a little too much; he had a lot of too much.

8.3 SECONDS! LET’S HEAR IT FOR MIKE!

Deciding he had nothing else to do, Zane started heading back towards the parking lot. Although the event seemed kind of interesting, Zane was too lonesome to really find any joy in the situation. Even his uncle’s presence would’ve made him want to stay, but with no one there by his side, Zane decided to head out. Right as he stepped through the gate, he suddenly recalled his uncle saying something about Harry wanting to see him. He didn’t like Harry, and he assumed it worked the other way around too, but Zane knew he should respect his uncle’s wishes.

8.9 SECONDS! DANNY’S HERE TO STAY!

Zane stumbled into the area housing the horse stables, the place completely deserted besides the rolling tumbleweeds. Strolling past a few horse-buses, it didn’t take long to find Harry. He grinned as Zane approached, holding a lasso in one hand.

“‘Bout time you got here, thinkin’ you got lost er somethin’.”

“Wish I would have,” Zane mumbled to himself as Harry tossed an arm around his shoulder. Harry suddenly seemed more cheery than he had been before.

“Did yer uncle tell ya what yer doing here?”

“No, but I hope it’s not too long; I’m getting tired.” To emphasize his point, Zane faked a huge yawn.

“Not that, fag,” Harry chuckled, dropping down one end of the rope. “I mean this vacation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school, yer pops, uncle, and I used to be the studs of the town. Valuable players, intimidatin’ cowboys, 100% corn-fed beef. But when yer pops was offered an education out east, the three of us fell apart.”

“Yeah, so what?”Zane was uninterested, finding the cowboy’s bulge as the only thing appealing about Harry. Zane had a bad habit of checking out other men when he was single.

“Well,” Harry continued, dragging Zane into a stable. “When yer pops saw how off-track he had raised ya, he called up Treyton and I to put a little country in ya. We knew we were gonna have fun, but when ya brought along that Irish laddy too, that was just a cherry for the top.”

Zane shook his head in bewilderment. Who was Harry talking about? He had obviously come here alone.

“See, originally Treyton wanted you as part of his ranch, but when yer boyfriend came he decided to pass the sweeter treat off to me. I think yeu’ll really-”

“Woah, slow down a moment,” Zane rubbed his temples, losing track of everything.

“Ah, I fergot about the mental stuff,” Harry contemplated, thinking about how to explain everything. He had to find a way to explain it all to the boy.

“Remember how everyone in the stands was segregated by their clothin’ color?”

“Yeah?” Zane clearly remembered, as he had stuck out like a sore thumb, but he didn’t understand why this was important now.

“Well, they’re all branded to some ranch, that’s why they stick to one color.”

Harry’s answer made sense to him, but Zane was still visibly perplexed.

“Look at Kae- I mean Clayton Sherman,” Harry started. “He works for yer uncle’s ranch. What color to they wear?”

“Blue?”

“Exactly!” Harry slapped Zane’s back, knocking the wind out of the other man.

“Every color here is for someone’s ranch. Blue is Welch, green is Smith, white for Johnson-”

“How... how many are there?” Zane stuttered, the pieces gradually coming together.

“10, ‘cluding myself,” Harry responded proudly.

“So what you’re saying,” Zane reasoned. “Is that these ranch owner’s ‘brand’ people to be part of their ‘ranch,’ claiming them as their property?”

“Eeyup.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Thought you oughta know beforehand.”Zane was about to ask what that meant, but before he could speak, something clicked together in his head.

“You own one of these ‘ranches’?”

“The stunnin’ Mueller Ranch.”

“And what color are you?”

Zane already knew the answer, hoping to distract the other man, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Harry’s launch. The older cowboy tackled Zane to the ground, the stench of hay and manure infiltrating Zane’s lungs as his face graced the dirt floor. Zane, not one to be athletic, surprisingly twisted himself out of Harry’s grasp, rolling sideways before getting up and escaping. He started running to his truck, desperately shuffling through his pockets to find the keys. Frantically scurrying away, he didn’t even notice his foot slip right out from beneath him.

“Gotcha!”

Harry cackled heartily as he looked upon his captured prey, who was clawing at the rope helplessly. It seemed like a scene from an old western cartoon: the fool stepping into the lasso and getting caught. Harry had already tied the other end of the rope to a stable post, approaching Zane with a face gleaming with malice. Zane trembled in fear, giving up hope on flight and nervously accepting the fight. As Harry took the final steps, Zane's cowered timidly as he gave up. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew something was going to be over. Then, to Zane’s pure surprise, a hand stretched out to help him up.

“Come on,” Harry welcomed warmly.

Zane’s heart stopped. Was Harry… serious? Was this all some prank just to scare him? Zane didn’t know what was going on, but he decided that once he got out of this mess he’d stay in the sweet shelter of his uncle’s ranch. After the week was over, he was never coming back to this pathetic town, or Wyoming for that sake.

“Are ya gonna take it or what?”

Zane sighed, clasping his hand into Harry’s. As soon as they connected, Harry’s flowery smile instantly twisted back into the thorny smirk.

“It’s just too easy.”

Before Zane could react, Harry flipped the other’s hand over and tapped the black stamp. Instantaneously, time stopped around them. The whole moment felt electric, almost as if everything in existence had shifted, but it was simply only a light touch. Zane gasped as he got up, struggling to speak.

“What… what did you do?”

“Eh, nothin’ yeu’ll remember,” Harry chimed. Zane investigated the back of his hand, noticing a slight pulse as the black stamp began to fade. He was shocked to see the color slowly draining from it into his veins, noticing the same inky shade pumping into his bloodstream.

“Oh no,” Zane cried as a small crackling came from his knuckles. It sounded similar to an orchestra of crickets, the hundreds of minuscule pops signifying the growth of his average hands. Zane’s palms grew thicker at a sluggish pace, bloating with meat as his fingers grew into calloused sausages. Zane groaned in pain while his hands became paws, now feeling like he was wearing bulky, leather mittens instead of skin.

The raven color flew through Zane’s arms, gliding across his chest before venturing vertically. To Zane’s dismay, his unused tendons stretched intensely, expanding as they made room for the arriving muscular tissue. Biceps proudly emerged as their brotherly triceps erupted from underneath Zane’s flesh, causing him to writhe. His forearms gained some meat too before a tan wave swept across the surface of his skin. The classic shade darkened Zane’s pale skin as a field of hair was planted on top. Before long, Zane’s arms looked like an avid gym-goer’s, yet for some reason his mind told him they were from the farm.

After improving the upper appendages, the ink moved downwards, cutting through Zane’s chest. His deltoids pushed outwards as his collarbone expanded, barely extending his traps as his torso began to shift into the shape of a “T”. His pectorals ballooned outwards, forming into meaty packages with two perky nipples, obviously erect underneath his shrinking tee. After the pecs squared out, Zane moaned as a sturdy six pack pounded in, each abdominal packing a punch as it pushed forward. A light covering of fur erupted from his chest while the tan wave made sure to paint itself once more. Zane began panting for air violently, each breath sucking in a little body fat. It didn’t remove all of his fat, but enough to maintain something barely below a body-builder’s standards. His shirt also stitched itself back together, having been torn apart seconds before. The cheap concert tee grew black as it painted itself back onto Zane’s torso, the dusky color hiding its overuse.

Following were Zane’s legs, as the black blood dove deeper. His juicy thighs began to tighten, retaining their above-average size, but now containing more muscle than meat. After his quadriceps had hardened, his knees cracked violently, stretching out Zane’s calves to max him out at 6’2. The bottom of his sweatpants violently tore to reveal two meaty forelegs, both veiny, firm, and covered in a lathering of hair. His pale skin darkened as his legs were covered in a loose denim, locking away his lower appendages.

With Zane’s lower body now covered in an old pair of Wranglers, the ink took hold of his feet, which were currently snug in a pair of Sperry’s boat shoes, the only shoes he had brought with him. In an instant, the leather and cloth tore apart in the middle, blossoming open like a flower to reveal gargantuan Size 15 feet. Zane was appalled to see the hairy, meaty, and awfully rank monsters attached below his ankles, but to his luck, the shredded shoes began to reform. The leather gracefully became cowhide as it expertly resowed itself around Zane’s feet, traveling up to his midcalves to create two authentic cowboy boots. Zane however didn’t feel relieved, in fact all he could feel was the sweat of his massive feet filling up the shoes. His socks hadn’t reformed, so it appeared he was going commando in his boots.

The ink swam up to the top, touching up on any missed spots. After filling in Zane’s pits with a hearty amount of hair, the black blood filled in his neck, adding girth to support the maturing Adam’s apple. Vocal chords stretched as the Zane’s register reached new depths, causing him to violently cough and sputter as he adjusted, allowing the ink to shoot upwards. Zane cried out in pain as the black blood clutched his skull, pulling apart at the bones to give him a thicker head. While the baby fat was removed, his jaw was stretched horizontally, giving him a prominent chin just large enough for a cleft. His lips shrunk while his nose expanded, filling in along with his expanding brows. Zane’s eyes shifted from a bland brown to easy-going blue as his hair shaved away, leaving a no-effort buzzcut where a manicured mane once laid. The vibrant green color rapidly faded, giving way to a light brown that easily shaded in Zane’s new haircut and thickening chinstrap. Across his body, his skin tightened barely as his body packed on a few extra years. It wasn’t a noticeable difference, but Zane no longer had the same glow of young adulthood.

“Ah Lordee,” Zane grumbled, getting up as his language center reorganized itself. “What’d y’all do to me?”

“Well, there’s still one more thing to go,” Harry replied, watching Zane shakily ascend. When the other man stood straight, he now faced eye to eye with the other cowboy.

“What in tarnation is left?”

“Just give it a sec-”

“I ain’t got no time for games, I’m gettin’-”

Suddenly, Zane felt an electrifying pulse throughout his groin, the rest of the ink finally reaching his reproductive center. The black blood infiltrated his testicles, killing off the weak sperm as it overtook his pouch. Zane’s balls bloated as they became heavy with cowboy sperm, dropping dramatically due to the increased weight. The ink traveled into his medium-sized penis, engorging it almost instantly. At first, Zane felt like he was having the most powerful boner of his life, but he began to realize his dick was in fact growing. His member began pulsating with the foreign blood, elongating as it grew to a mighty 10 inches. In the back end, his buttocks blew up into two massive, hardened globes, pushing against the confines of one end of the jeans while his pouch took the other.

Losing all sense of reality, Zane furiously palmed himself through his jeans, the feeling of his newly-materialized boxer shorts rubbing against his sensitive tip driving him crazy. Precumming in seconds due to the pent up stress, Zane was too horny to realize what he was doing, or what he was losing. His prized Yale education evaporated like powdered milk into his ballsack. Next went his East Coast upbringing, his progressive ideas and urban lifestyle disappearing into the void that was his semen. In tow was his homosexuality, which was thrown into the fire inside his testicles. Even a sizeable chunk of his IQ was tossed into the mixing pot. Everything about Zane was sucked down into his sperm, ready to be expelled permanently.

“C’mon boy,” Harry shouted eagerly. “Ya know what ya want to do!”

Zane grunted as he groped himself once more, feeling a burst of static electricity coarse across his body. Grabbing a nearby fence, Zane steadied himself against the stable wall as he felt the rush coming.

“Wow-ie!”

A huge load of sperm coated the front of the Wranglers, causing the area beneath the giant belt buckle to darken dramatically. Not bothering to clean himself up, the young cowboy basked in the afterglow of ejaculation, truly content with himself. He adjusted his pouch one last time, with his other hand still secured to the fence.

“There ya go, that felt better, didn’t it?” Harry slapped a hand around the other man, securing the black cowboy hat on top of the other’s head while doing so.

“Ah yeah, Sir, that one was a goodie,” the other replied, the two slowly making their way back to the main grounds.

“Tell me, Wayne, where the wife and kids at? Shouldn’t they be at the rodeo?”

“They are, Sir,” Wayne responded quickly. “They’re sittin’ near the back of the bleachers with the other ranch families.”

“Ah I see.”

10.5 SECONDS! PETE’S WOWED US AGAIN FOLKS!

Harry paused in front of the main gate, shuffling his hand through his pocket to find his keys and some Copenhagen chew.

“I best be headin’ out,” he stated. “We got a long day at the ranch tomorrow, lots of hay bale shipments to move out.”

“Sounds good, Sir.” Wayne extended his hand out, “I’ll see y’all bright and early tomorrow mornin’.”

“See y’all then, Wayne.”

The two vigorously shook hands, with Harry delighted to see the disappearance of a certain black stamp. They waved each other off as Harry walked back to his truck. After watching his boss leave, Wayne was elated to go back to his family, with one beautiful wife and three handsome sons to entertain. Turning 29 in a matter of days (his birthday shared with Pete Sherman’s, or “Little Petey” as the town called him), Wayne had already accomplished his major goal in life, growing the Woods family. It only seemed like yesterday that he and his wife were high school sweethearts, but now they owned their own little home with three rowdy chaps running around everywhere. It was going to be Wayne’s job to teach them the right morals just like how his father taught him. Over the years, he’d teach them about Christianity, voting Red, being country men, and how to swoon ladies. But, with the oldest one only in first grade, he thought it might be best to wait a bit longer.

Inspecting the bleachers, it didn’t take Wayne long to find his family. He ran up to them and sat down immediately, ready to keep enjoying the show. He quickly explained to his wife what his boss had wanted him for, saying Harry had just wanted an update on the coming fourth child. Wayne then kissed his wife passionately before giving his attention back to the rodeo, applauding as the last participant finished off the night.

10.3 SECONDS! CHRIS ENDED THE NIGHT STRONG!

ANOTHER GREAT YEAR WITH A DARN GREAT CROWD! THANKS FOR COMIN’ OUT FOLKS, WE’LL SEE Y’ALL AGAIN NEXT YEAR!

#country #gay to stright #bottomtotop #age progression tf #nerdtojock #jock #Christian #dumber #political #lib to con

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