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moondirti · 18 days

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(first time doing a ask bare with me)

pretty please a continue of the house distribution thing. the fic where she does military housing to afford rent. just a continuation please 🙏🏽

feel free to skip if your mind is just blank with ideas for it x

simon riley / afab! reader • part one cw: dubcon, intoxication, spanking, wedgies, degradation, dacryphilia, very mild puppy play (mostly just pet names)

"Well, aren' you a sight."

Much like the lamplight, his voice is low. Mocking, almost. You'd think he were amused if it weren't for the dangerous way his eyes assess your sorry state, raking the lines of your bare legs to the way your dress wraps tight around your chest. It almost escapes you that he's maskless at first, so entranced by the glint of his pupils, the shadowed irises that pinch a deep, very primal nerve in you.

His lips curl into an uneven sneer, scar dissecting the bottom and running down to his chin. You wipe your nose with the heel of your hand, giving your best attempt at an apathetic shrug.

"I had fun."

"Did'ya now?" He laughs humourlessly. "Mus' have different ideas of fun, me and you. Can' see the fun in getting pissed out'f my mind, worryin' the people in your life by stayin' out s'late."

Spite flares, fear slinking back your throat to make room for the petulance that froths on your tongue like venom. It completely poisons his admission to the fact that he'd been worried, turns it into something pathetic and hypocritical. You storm closer. Wild. Angry.

"That's fucking rich coming from you. What is your idea of fun, then, Lieutenant? Tormenting women who open up their home to you? Walking in on them in the bathroom, pissing all over the fucking seat? Does it grant you satisfaction to make people so uncomfortable that they'd rather be anywhere but with you?"

His jaw tenses, a "careful, pet." grunted under his breath, but he makes no move to stop you. Just continues sitting on your couch, legs spread, simmering. Waiting for you to tire out.

"Shut the fuck up. Oh my god. Oh my god. I can hardly be at bloody peace in my own house anymore! You're- You're... A fucking nightmare, Riley! So excuse me if I went out and enjoyed myself when I haven't been able to do so in weeks!"

By the end of your little tirade, you're an even worse mess than you had been before. Flyaways stick to your sweaty temple, mascara rims your blown eyes. Your panting does nothing to calm the frantic race of your heart, which beats at your ribcage like doldrums to war. You can feel the effects of it everywhere; your pulse, hot and quick, at your eyebrow, your wrists, the arch of your foot.

Riley stands. Your lip trembles.

You're so close now that your gaze is level with his chest. Tall. You'd forgotten how tall he was. Or how wide. Or dangerous. His biceps – bare given his tight-fitted t-shirt, tree-trunk large and enough to crush watermelons – tense, and all-too-suddenly, you find your jaw clutched in a bruising grip. He jerks your head up so your eyes meet his.

"Simon." He mutters. "But you don't get to call me tha', or anything at all but Sir."

"Letmegomff–" You're rendered mute when his thumb and forefinger press your cheeks together, but that certainly doesn't stop you from whining.

"Y'wanna know my idea of a good time?" Purely rhetorical, of course. Aside from not being able to answer him, it doesn't matter what you want. There's a clear direction this seems to be heading towards – someplace where the hand pawing your ass continues lower, or where the length in his pants fits down your throat. Someplace not unwelcome by you, despite the way you thrash and cry in his arms. "It's putting foul things like you in their place."

He shucks your dress over your ass, the fabric bunching around your waist, and hooks a fist in the waistline of your soaked panties. Your mind is so foggy, influenced by shitty tequila and the subspace Simon bullies you into embracing, that you don't process the cause of your pain immediately. Don't correlate it to the way he pulls upward, your underwear bunching into a tight line that cleaves between your ass-cheeks and rubs abrasively against your poor clit. Don't– can't confront it until the force literally picks you up off the floor, toes barely touching the ground, held up by a wedgie and the grip around your jaw alone.

Tears spring to your lash line, tracing miserable treks down your cheeks. His thumb swipes what it can away, pushing the salty water into your mouth, and stays there while you lap at his calloused fingertips.

"There we go. Look at you, brainless mutt. Jus' need something on your cunt and something in your mouth to keep you quiet, hm? Happy to hang li'e this for hours, I bet."

Your muffled yell is met with another laugh, thumb pushing deeper into your mouth to shut you up.

"Shh, I know. Still need'ta be taught a lesson. I haven' forgotten." The stitches on your panties begin to tear, the rips loud and relieving, especially when you start to sag back down to the floor. Simon doesn't take it with any kind of urgency, though he cocks his head at the way you blink up at him, lashes fanning in rapid succession. An unspoken, desperate plea. "Was gonna hold out, get you sobered up for your punishment. But you're practically itchin' for it, aren' you?"

He puppets your head into an enthusiastic nod, which he meets with a faux huff.

"Course you are." The forbearing quality of his tone is promptly betrayed by the way you're manhandled over his lap. Pivoting one hand opposite to the other, he's able to sit on the couch and get you thrown over his thighs in a mere matter of seconds. "Normally I'd make y'count, but I figure you're too far gone for that. Jus' try to keep your wailing quiet."

Your underwear gives in with a final tug, ripping from the soaked gusset to become nothing but a flimsy piece of fabric around your hips. Simon swipes the tattered remains off your raised bottom, taking longer than necessary to smooth over the area. It's all the indication you need to what's coming – his rough palm teases the nerve endings below your softer skin, bringing them to frenzied life. Preparing them to hurt.

When he breaks away, you hold your breath.

The air behind you whistles as his hand comes down.

A sharp, resounding crack fractures the baited silence of the room. Your mouth flies open. Searing pain roars across your backside like wildfire, worsening every second it's exposed to open elements. Your scream is belated, thunder to the lightening, tearing from your throat only after the initial shock subsides.

A series of lighter blows land on alternating cheeks, two fingers returning to gag you through the onslaught. Unlike his thumb, these reach the very back of your tonsils, prompting wet gags as they fondle with your throat. Drool dribbles from the corners of your lips, slicking your chin with lipstick-tinted fluid.

"Fuckin' beautiful when you're not givin' an attitude, puppy. All stupid and submissive, cunt droolin' on my lap."

You groan, choke, then cry some more when his spanks grow incrementally harsher again. Gratefully, they're never in the same place twice. He beats the top of your thighs, your lower back, the sides of your hips. Your cheeks especially, which start to emit a steady kind of heat the longer he keeps it up.

Eventually, as a matter of coping, your brain starts to consider the cruel sting as pleasurable instead, sending little bolts of pleasure directly to your clit every time his hand comes down on your ass. It swells, fattening up with blood, pressing tighter against the steady mass of his thigh. Inadvertently, you start rutting against it to find more of the same relief, humping his leg like the dog he's making you out to be.

It doesn't escape his notice, of course.

His foot pushes one of your flailing ankles outward so that your legs are spread, pussy made vulnerable to his scrutiny. The next slap is thus aimed straight at your fluttering hole, slick doing nothing to affect his deadly precision. When it lands, it lands exactly where he meant for it to, and introduces you to a whole other degree of pain that has you seeing stars. You're openly bawling around his fingers now, vision so cloudy you can't tell light from dark.

"Didn' like tha', did you?"

"Nngh– nmmph!"

"There's more where it came from, pup. Best listen to everythin' I say from now on, then, 'less you wan' your little hole beat black 'n' blue."

Simon stresses his point by tracing the seam of your cunt, collecting the lubrication there to smear across the hotspot at the top. Presses into it. Grants you a little gratification, as if to say: and here's what you can have if you behave.

"You gonna be a good pet?"

This time, he withdraws his fingers from your maw. Expects a response, even though it takes you ages to recover from the lack of oxygen. You swallow the saliva pooling behind your teeth, inhaling ragged gasps that make your lungs ache.

He pinches your clit when you take too long. Lightly, but it's enough.

"Yes! Yes, s-sir. I'll be good."

#please no one mention this degenerate piece of writing to me ever again #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #tw dubcon #༄dee answers #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley #ghost #x afab reader #call of duty #cod

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gurugirl · 9 months

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STOPPPPP IT THE SHORTS ARE SO SHORT! WTF THE TIGER IS SHOWING! OMG Y/N WOULD GO CRAZYYYYYYY OVER IT. okok so maybe y/n gets jealous that Harry was wearing such short shorts in public that she ends up getting moody and Harry makes it up to her by letting her ride his thigh and fucks her saying stuff like “y’know this cock belongs to you darling” and stuff 😩😩

HAPPY FRIDAY YOU GUYS!!!

PLEASE I've been looking at these pics all day. What is this man thinking????????? I cannot handle him. He's such a tease. And I wrote this way too fast. Sorry if it sucks but this picture deserves a smut piece written about it. He's too fucking hot.

1.6k words

warning: mostly plotless smut, not proofread whatsoever

Y/n was used to Harry being ogled. Always the hottest guy in the room with the most charisma and charm. Everyone flocked to him and everyone's eyes always followed him. He was magnetic. And he knew it too.

As much as she realized she had nothing to worry about she still got jealous of the attention he constantly got. He didn't even need to try. He could be wearing a backwards baseball cap and loose jeans with a t-shirt and people would still be after her man.

And today, their little break away from the business of life led them to a relaxing little outing in the Italian sun. Before they'd even left the villa she eyed his short green trunks and how his fit torso was in full view, the long sleeved shirt draped over his shoulders, totally unbuttoned.

Biting her tongue, she figured she was being silly wishing he'd cover up a bit. She certainly wouldn't take well to him telling her to cover up, not that he'd ever.

But once they were on the beach and about to board their private yacht she did notice women and men alike watching him. His bronzed chiseled abs and pecs peeking out from the shirt, and of course he'd tucked his shorts up a bit to protect the mesh lining from chafing this inner thighs (he always did that because he said his package was too large to sit comfortably in the lining and it gave him a little extra support). His strong thighs on full view holding his tall frame upright as he carried both of their bags.

"Come on," he held his hand out to her as he helped her up into the boat safely.

He could tell she was a little pouty. He knew her too well. Knew he was being eye fucked by half the beach as they walked to the yacht they'd rented for the afternoon.

"What's wrong, love?" He grinned as he pulled at the strap of her bathing suit teasingly.

"Nothing. Just looking forward to getting out onto the ocean."

Harry crowded her space, stepping in front of her so she couldn't look at anything but him, "Yeah? Is that it? You seem to have been awfully quiet all morning. Nothing else you want to talk about?"

She looked up at him and the smirk he wore told her that he knew just what she was pouting about. But she just shook her head and crossed her arms, "Nope."

The low chuckle that fell from his chest as he pushed her arms down and grasped her wrists made her cheeks warm up, "Liar. You're jealous."

Harry kind of liked that she got jealous. Because in all truth, he'd get jealous when anyone would look at her just the same.

"Am not."

Harry walked her backward as the driver of the yacht began to move the boat out to sea, "Let's go down into the suite for a bit. Need to show you something," he gestured toward the door that lead to the stairs to get to the lower level.

She huffed as she carefully stepped down into the furnished room. It was small but there was a counter with a TV above it, a mini bar with fridge, a bathroom, a sitting area and a bed in the center.

Harry closed and locked the door before grasping Y/n's arms and pushing her toward the bed, pressing his chest into her back and speaking into her ear in a dark baritone, "Let's figure out what's got you so moody. Maybe I can help."

She tried to keep her composure but his voice and his skin and his hands always melted her poise.

When he felt her relax into his hold he smiled and kissed the back of her neck, bringing her into the bed with him, "There we go."

Y/n climbed into the middle of the bed and sat on her bottom as Harry spread out next to her, "Hop on. Let's talk."

She looked down at his lap and back into his eyes. She knew his plan. It always worked.

Biting the inside of her cheek she quietly moved to straddle his lap but he stopped her from fully spanning his thighs with hers, "Just sit on the tiger for a minute."

She looked up at him like he was crazy but settled herself right over his thigh, the crotch of her swimsuit right on top of the inked tiger on his strong thigh.

"Good girl. See that," he looked down to how she was sitting on him, "No one else gets to do that. Just cause they can see it doesn't mean they can fuck themselves on me like this. Know you like that, don't you?"

She nodded bit her bottom lip.

"That's right." Harry put his hands at her hips and pulled her up and then pushed her back a bit, "Let's see you do it. Show me who this belongs to."

Once Harry got her momentum going she rocked over his taut, muscular thigh gently. Harry kissed her softly and moaned, "See? What they don't know is that this tiger gets his face fucked by the prettiest little pussy. Gets to have your scent all over it. Cause you own it. Don't you, love?"

"Yes." She squeaked pathetically.

She was already so turned on and it wasn't because of the way she was rubbing her cloth-covered clit over his thigh. It was the way he was speaking to her. She could feel herself getting wet slowly and the faster she rocked she noticed Harry's large bulge under his short green trunks.

"Getting him coated, love. Good job, honey. You need a little more? Want to come?"

"Y- yes. I do, Harry..." She lowered her hand from his shoulder to cup his thickened cock, "want this."

"Mmm... want my cock? Want to fuck yourself on my cock? Fuck what's yours?"

She nodded and the look in his eyes turned quickly from soft green to dark and lusty, "Take your bottoms off right now."

She quickly got up to her knees and pulled her swim bottoms down her legs as Harry pulled his green trunks off, his cock bobbing heavily as he leaned his back into the headboard.

She climbed after him, desperate to have him inside of her and she whined as she grasped him and placed his hot, thick crown at her entrance. She paused as she looked him in the eyes but Harry needed her just as much. He put his hands at her waist and pushed her down onto him, groaning lowly at the relief.

"Fuck. This cock is all yours, Y/n. Every bit of me is all yours, darling."

She keened as she felt him inside her guts so deep it ached.

Slowly she began rolling her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy down over him, keeping her clit satisfyingly smeared against his pelivs.

"It's mine," she whined as she put her hands on his shoulders and rocked quickly, the sound of her wet pussy sucking his cock in deep sounded between them.

"Yes it is. Fuck it like you mean it, Y/n. Want to see you own it. Need you to milk me dry."

Y/n gasped when Harry put his hands under her thighs and helped her ride him properly. It was always a task to fuck him this way but so worth the view and the orgasm.

She wanted to make him come so hard. Make him dizzy and mushy and drain his balls of everything he had. She wanted his come inside of her where it belonged. Because it was hers. No one could have Harry in this way. He was her man.

"Yes, baby. Riding me so good. Fuck yourself on me deep, honey. Make yourself come on me baby. Take what's yours, Y/n."

Her chest was getting hot and her thighs were burning as their wet skin slopped together each time she dropped down onto his cock, tucking him deep inside of her so his balls were up against her ass.

Looking down between their bodies it was a sticky, creamy mess. The trimmed hair at the base of Harry's shaft was white with cream and his girthy cock was stretching her out so beautifully.

"Harry! Oh my god. I'm gonna come!"

"Yeah?" Harry widened his thighs and bent his knees the slightest bit so he could take her over the edge and fuck into her so deep she could feel his come in her womb. The moment he began to move his hips into her she yelped and gasped and her fingers dug into his shoulders sharply, "Who's cock is this, baby? Tell me who it belongs to, honey," his words were grunted.

"It's mine! You're mine, Harry!" Her world was spinning as she jolted up each time he punched into her from his position below. His fingers dug into her ass and he clenched his teeth as he began to throb.

"S'right. This cock is yours. I'm yours, Y/n. Fucking gonna make me come aren't you, baby?"

She nodded and then her mouth dropped open and she grew silent as her orgasm washed over her body. Her ears rang as she pulsed over his cock.

Harry choked out a loud moan and filled her to the brim with himself as he stilled his hips and his thigh trembled at the exertion.

Gasps and soft inhaled breaths were stifled when Y/n pushed her lips to his and pressed her chest into his tightly, her arms wrapping around him.

Harry grunted a laugh and pinched her bottom and she jumped.

"Told you I could help. All better now?" Harry cooed at his sweet girl.

Pulling back to look at him she smiled, "All better now."

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pseudowho · 3 months

Text

Defending Your Honour

A series in which the JJK guys stick-it to the creeps and perverts bothering the reader.

A multi-fic in a series ❤️🫖☕

Part 1 (Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, and Todo Aoi) link here!

Part 2 (Higuruma Hiromi, Ino Takuma and Itadori Yuuji) link here!

More JJK men and women to come

Trigger Warning: unsolicited dick pics, upskirting, catcalling, threatened sexual assault/reader followed into bathroom

Gojo Satoru

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"Baaaaabe," Satoru whinged from the sofa, at the exact pitch required to set your eyes rolling. You walked back to him, blushing as you felt his eyes roll languidly up and down your bare legs beneath his oversized t-shirt.

Plopping the popcorn bowl down, you sat on the sofa beside him, lazily draping your legs over his lap, tilting your head inquisitively towards him as he teased his long fingers over your thighs. He felt you look at him questioningly, and smirked.

"Nothin'," he shot, "s'too late. Was gonna ask you what movie you wanted, but you're too late. I picked already."

"Oh, really?" You teased, swirling a finger on his pecs, "And what did you choose?"

"Only the cult-classic noughties Anne Hathaway gem...the Princess Diaries. Two." You clapped, squealing with genuine delight as Satoru laughed, pulling you closer onto his lap by the legs.

The movie rolled, and you cuddled under Satoru's arm, taking turns, giggling as you fed each other popcorn. Your phone buzzed, once. You ignored it. Your phone buzzed, again. You ignored it. It buzzed again-- again-- again--

"Someone's popular tonight," Satoru teased, "you wanna get that?" You squirmed uncomfortably under his arm, your lip curled in disgust.

"No, just leave it. Nothing to worry about." Satoru raised an unconvinced eyebrow, but tucked you closer, deliberately missing your mouth with the next piece of popcorn he offered you, shoving it at a nostril instead. You laughed, batting him away.

A few minutes passed, and the incessant buzzing of your phone began again. Satoru felt you tense under his arm. He sat forward, pausing the movie and turning to you.

"Look, you know I won't push for an answer, but...is everything alright?" You turned away from him, lips curled up again, upset.

"This guy from work..." you started guiltily, fidgeting, "...he just keeps messaging me. Won't leave me alone, I-- I've been ignoring him for weeks." Satoru's face pinched in pain and concern. He reached out a hand, threading his fingers through yours.

"Babe...you could have told me." You shrugged, eyes tearing up now. You reached out for your phone, unlocking it.

"I didn't want you to think it was my faul--" you cried out in disgust, dropping your phone into your lap with a jolt, sniffling, face crumpling, "--I'm so sick of this, Satoru."

Satoru slowly reached a hand out to your phone, hesitating for you to stop him. You shook your head tearfully, gesturing loosely at your phone for him to take it.

Satoru's face morphed into something ugly as he scrolled through photo after photo of another man's penis, sometimes flaccid, sometimes hard, held in his hand, covered in cum, in different lighting, at different angles--

"This," Satoru spat, "is not your fault. None of it is." Satoru dropped your phone on the coffee table, turning fully to you again, "Do you know where this guy lives?"

You frowned at Satoru, nodding slowly, considering; "What...are you going to do?"

Satoru's lips quirked at the edges into a dirty little smile; "Nothing for you to worry about. Don't sweat it. I'm the strongest. You know it."

An hour or so later, the owner of the unwanted penis stepped into his apartment, still buzzing after sending you so many good photos, and from the office no less, it was so filthy, so naughty, he just, just knew you'd love it--

"Hey there, guy. I've been waiting for you."

Grabbed bodily by this unreasonably strong, tall, white-haired man, your assailant cried out in terrified indignation as Satoru threw him onto his sofa. Satoru sat on the coffee table opposite him, eyes covered by a black blindfold, spidery legs spread and blocking the man's exit.

"Unlock your phone," Satoru commanded, sounding almost cheerful. The man glared, snarling.

"I'm not unlocking my fucking phone--"

"Unlock your phone," Satoru ordered again, now cold, methodically dangerous, "now."

The assailant reached for his phone with a trembling hand, unlocking it. Satoru held out his own hand expectantly. The man hesitated. Satoru clapped his fingers against his palm, in a display of impatience. Begrudgingly, the man handed over his phone to Satoru, who hummed as he flicked through the disgusting messages the man had been sending you.

"You know," Satoru said conversationally, his words sending shivers of fear up the man's spine, "I kill monsters for a living...did you know that? Probably not." Satoru sucked his teeth, preparing a multi-participant messaging list on the man's phone.

"Got any sisters? Brothers?" Satoru inquired. The man nodded, uncertain. Satoru smiled, as if delighted by the man's cooperation, "Names?"

Shakily, the man reeled off their names, his stomach sinking lower and lower as Satoru asked for more names-- his boss, his best friend, his best friend's wife, his solicitor...

With a happy sigh of finality, Satoru clapped his hands together, throwing the phone back onto the sofa.

"Hope they like your photos, anyway," Satoru chirped to the man, who stared at his frantically buzzing phone as if it were an unexploded bomb, "no takey-backsies!"

Satoru stood, walking to the front door. He paused, turning back slowly, the very air within the flat seeming to crush in around the man with some inconceivable force.

"And if you ever go near my girl again," Satoru offered, calculating, menacing, "the next monster I'll kill is you."

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Megumi and Nobara

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"She doesn't want to go to the book shop with you, she wants to come with me, there's this dress I think she'll look really cute in--"

"--she's my girlfriend Kugisaki!" Megumi snapped, tugging your hand in his so they sat flush against his thigh. You hummed, pretending to consider your options.

"I dunno Megs...if the dress is cute enough, maybe I'll be Nobara's girlfriend instead." Megumi spun to you, appalled, and you laughed as he and Nobara bickered with each other on the way to the escalator.

Ginza was busy, buzzing with the animated, vibrant ebb and flow of the wealthy, and the excitable tourists, and the perfectly-coiffed fashionistas. You, Megumi and Nobara tumbled through the crowd, being reshuffled by the constant bump of passers-by, and you ended up entering the escalator two people ahead of them.

Leaning round to shoot them an apologetic smile, you saw Megumi and Nobara remained embroiled in their sibling-ish argument. You rolled your eyes, facing forward, eyes up to the twinkling lights of the shopping centre.

You thought very little of the twitching of the back of your skirt, so close was the crowd. You heard a cough behind you, loud, barking. You heard another cough, and another, and another.

"Hey-- hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You tried to turn at the sound of Nobara's voice, but failed, shoulders bracketed by the press of the crowd.

"Megumi-- that piece of shit took photos up your girlfriend's skirt! He's covering up the camera noise with coughs!"

"Bastard!"

You cried out as you were shoved forwards, your fingers cracking painfully against the metal of the escalator, and a man in a baseball cap forced his way past you, phone in hand. Nobara and Megumi shouted, in pursuit, Megumi pulling you to your feet as the crowd decompressed at the top of the escalator.

You were confused, humiliated and all turned-around as you staggered at the top of the escalator. Pitying eyes glazed over you in passing, the flow of people giving you a wide berth. You blushed, and clutched the hem of your skirt, feeling so exposed, pulling down the hem at the back.

Megumi had stumbled ahead in chase, but turned back and grasped your hand, his eyes beseeching you to chase with him. Nobara tore off ahead, rounding a corner. You nodded, sniffling, and Megumi raised your clasped hands to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.

You sprinted together after Nobara and found her pinning the capped man against a wall, effortlessly gripping the front of his hoodie while he squirmed. She was going through his phone, lips twisted in distaste at the intimate photographs he had taken of you.

Megumi approached, fists clenching and unclenching, his nose scrunched in disgust. Nobara held the phone close to her chest, eyeing him inquisitively. Megumi shot you a sideways glance, and shook his head at Nobara.

"Save them for the cops," he snapped, "but for now..." Megumi turned to you; "What do you want to do with this bastard?"

Your lip trembled, and you bit it between your teeth to still it. You felt violated, furiously vengeful.

"I think," you shook out, "we should find this guy a skirt." With matching satisfied, wicked smiles, Megumi and Nobara rounded on your assailant.

The sales assistants manning the changing rooms did not dare approach the scene that was unfolding behind the curtains, some time later. While the capped man frantically sobbed, his knobbly-kneed hairy legs woefully exposed by the cute miniskirt he wore, Megumi kept him arm-locked against the wall, endlessly berating and insulting him, while Nobara knelt, taking miserably unflattering photos of his taint under the hem of his skirt.

You stood back, grimly satisfied as your assailant wept his apologies. As you wiped away tears of mirth, Megumi paused in his bullying for just a moment, to smile at you, eyes soft, warm, full of sincere adoration.

You mused to yourself as Nobara slapped the back of the man's thigh, making him shriek; it's not strictly morally just, you thought to yourself, but I don't strictly care.

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Toge Inumaki

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You found yourself so nervous, the first 'first date' you had had in quite some time. Your date, Inumaki, seemed equally unsure, but rolled with a quiet mischievous confidence that sent butterflies through your tummy.

You had approached him, your outfit suddenly seeming so overdone compared to his hoodie and jeans, and you opened your mouth to apologise for being overdressed. The words stopped in your throat as Inumaki's eyes glimmered with joy, and he gestured up and down your body with one finger, before clasping his hands over his heart and tipping his head back towards the sky.

You pressed a hand over your mouth, blushing, and Inumaki stepped forward to grasp your hands and bring them away from your face, swinging them affectionately in his own. You bumped the side of your head against his, realising with a curling warmth, that he had plaited his fingers in yours as you walked together down the street.

The day passed, in a flurry of arcades, street food, souvenir shopping, buying small gifts for each other...the whole day had been spent in wordless gestures, familiar and comfortable. Inumaki's heart stuttered each time he managed to tease you into a twinkling laugh.

Heading home, hands still swinging together, rich steam and hoppy beer aromas tumbled out of the closely packed ramen shops. You and Inumaki found yourselves pressed uncomfortably close to a pack of young men as you squeezed through the crowd. One man squeezed pricklingly, unnecessarily against you as he passed, the street wide enough to render his intimacy completely unjustifiable.

Inumaki paused, watchful eyes seeing as you drew your shoulders up in defence.

"Oh hey baby! You on a date? Hey bro, your girlfriend just tried to feel me up!" You blushed in furious mortification as your shoulders drew even closer towards your chin, pulling your jacket around yourself, keeping your head down and hoping the assault would just go away.

The young man's pack of friends, four of them, laughed and jeered, taking swigs from cans of beer and turning to join in the game.

"Nice outfit babe! Think I've seen something like it on a street corner near here..."

"Yeah, that jacket ain't coverin' much, sweetheart!"

"Aww, you cold? C'mere baby, I've got something nice and warm for you in my pocket."

As the pack continued to laugh and jeer at you, your happiness shrivelled, and you were reduced to nothing, a pecked worm between birds.

Inumaki raised his hand, slowly drawing his mask down, revealing his unusual facial markings. The pack of men paused, then laughed harder. The original perpetrator raised his beer to Inumaki, and began to speak as Inumaki waggled his tongue in preparation.

"Think you've got a bit of Sharpie on your face, ma--"

"Kiss each other-- like you mean it."

Gripped by something other than his own thoughts and desires, the young man stopped, dropping his can to the floor with a metallic wet thunk...before turning to his friend and grasping his face, pressing a passionate, staggering kiss to his lips. The kiss was enthusiastically reciprocated, and two of the others fought each other for the right to lock lips with the final man.

"Put your hands down his pants."

The crowd around the young men hooted and whistled at the show, as the enforced make-out session grew steamier, beer spilling onto the floor around them, wet kisses sounding through the air, hands down pants, groping.

"Keep going-- really enjoy yourselves."

As the scene before you unfolded into something increasingly erotic and debauched, your jaw dropped, all of your own embarrassment forgotten, and Inumaki raised his mask with a cough. Pulling you to wind through the crowd of onlookers and raised, clicking phone cameras, Inumaki turned and shot you a wink.

You laughed, desperately appreciative, and already planning your second date.

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Fushiguro Toji

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"Toji-- Toji-- I mean it, slow down, I need to pee!"

Toji sighed, brisk and pissed-off (his factory settings), and stopped pulling you along by the hand. He shot you a withering look, until you batted your eyelashes, clasping your hands together as you wiggled at him.

Despite himself, he smirked, glancing away so you didn't see (though you already had), and started scouring the street for public bathrooms.

"Come on, pea-bladder," he mocked, his deep voice slow and drawling, "let's find you somewhere to piss."

"Toji, don't be so gross--"

"Don't be so needy, jeez, or you're payin' for your own dinner." You rolled your eyes, punching his shoulder affectionately. Rounding a corner, a set of public bathrooms appeared opposite a row of shops.

Raising Toji's hand to your face, you pressed a kiss to the back of his enormous fist. Toji pinched your chin lovingly, before spinning you by the shoulders and planting a hefty slap to your bum.

"Hurry up kid. If someone prettier passes while you're in there, I ain't stickin' round." Toji laughed as your jaw dropped, aghast, and pushed you towards the bathrooms.

Toji chuckled to himself as you skipped away, his eyes only briefly registering the figure loitering outside the bathroom as you headed in.

A few minutes passed and you stepped, relieved, out of the stalls and walked to the sink to clean your hands. Sidling from his hiding spot round the corner, a heavy-jacketed man looked towards you as you gasped, immediately backing yourself away against a wall.

"All alone, baby?" The man challenged, tongue sliding across his front teeth as he approached you, a flick knife clacking in his hand. Steeped in terror, your eyes filled with tears, and you were miserably trapped in the corner against a toilet stall. You opened your mouth to beg for your life, but were interrupted by a low, dangerous voice.

"Nah, man. She ain't alone. But you are."

In abrupt, bloody violence, Toji swung a fist, shattering the man's nose and front teeth in an instant. The man's head snapped back and you screamed, spats of blood splattering down to mix with the stale-water-toilet-paper-mulch of the public bathroom floor.

Toji drew his fist back again as the man staggered, Toji's face twisted in filthy, murderous rage; "Chickenshit little coward, I'll fucking gut yo--"

Toji stopped stock-still at your pale little face staring up in terror...at him now, not your would-be assailant twisting like a maggot on the wet floor. Toji felt a hot rush of shame at having been the cause of your terror.

"Babe..." he started, lost for words. You trembled before him. Toji gulped, turning away from you, unable to look you in the eye. As your frightened heart slowed, Toji took a deep, measured breath in through his nose, and out of his mouth.

"I...frightened you. I'm so--" the words caught in Toji's throat, so alien to him. He took a deep breath and tried again; "I'm sorry. Let's finish this guy off together, huh? Before we take him to the cops."

You hesitated, before nodding, tearful eyes smiling up at Toji, sending his belly tumbling. Lifting the bloodied man up by his collar, Toji grinned devilishly at him.

"Swirly..." Toji began to chant, raising his voice as you started to join in, clapping in rhythm, "Swirly, swirly, swirly--"

Other passers-by found alternate public bathrooms that day, put off by the sounds of repeated flushing and strangled wet sobs.

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Ahhh. I managed to find a bit of love even for Toji, who is so SHOCKINGLY in looks and character like my older brother 💀💀💀🫠

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 2 months

Text

Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 4 ]

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A/N: This is all angst and fluff because I'm working on two other smut fics. Please accept this impromptu filler chapter for now (I'm sorry ❤️). I hope you enjoy it anyway.

WARNINGS: [ SFW ] + [ SLIGHTLY MATURE THEMES ] + [ FLUFF ] + [ ANGST ]

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You waited patiently for Alastor, standing at the window, admiring the fading moon as the sun's rays gradually inked the sky. It’d been a longer night than you imagined, but you felt energized rather than overtly exhausted.

You supposed that's what having a child felt like: tiring but never lacking excitement. A smile crept onto your face at the thought, heart racing at the image of a small hand wrapping around your finger and the possible jingle of childish laughter following the gesture. It was all you could think about.

Would they resemble you or Alastor more?

A boy or maybe a girl?

Twins?… Oh, twins would be so extraordinary but troublesome!

Oh, who am I to complain… they'd be just as lovely as Alastor.

You jumped from one thought to the next, unable to keep track of your puzzling emotions but deciding your only concern should be the present. With a steadying breath, you gazed around the room, searching for something to do or a task to occupy yourself with since sleep failed you. The room was spotless besides your belongings, which you'd already reorganized after stealing one of Alastors dress shirts to replace your blood-stained nightgown. There was a bookshelf full of various stories tucked into a corner near an old rocking chair, and the idea of reading to relax didn't seem terrible.

“A good story can be grand entertainment…”

Your father coined the phrase and always followed it with an unbelievable bedtime reading. Those nights filled with his storytelling were your fondest childhood memories, and you considered passing the sentiment onto your child. You imagined Alastor more prone to telling bedtime stories; he had the charisma, the soothing voice for it, and you had no doubt they'd become attached to him doing so.

Your smile grew wider, getting ahead of itself as you waltzed over to the tall mahogany bookshelf. “Hm…what shall we read, little one?” you placed a hand on your stomach, gently rubbing circles against it as your other grazed the worn book spines. Each title caught your eye, all ranging in subject but consistent with what Alastor told you about his mother's efforts to advance his literacy.

“Some might say she willed proper speech out of me, but I wouldn't be where I am now without such vigorous practice…”

He was far from wrong; your father had educated you similarly, claiming that despite young women of the time being expected to rely on their beauty, you'd advance farther with brains.

“Let's see..” you mumbled aloud, reading a few titles to narrow your decision, “…perhaps Penny Dreadful? No, The Grim Brothers Tales’?..” A soft giggle left your lips as you considered how ridiculous you sounded speaking aloud, but it couldn't be helped. You were longing to talk, to shout with joy, but resisted the urge in fear of causing a minor disturbance.

Finally, a book held your attention, not as worn as the others but fairly withered. “Alice in Wonderland shall do.” You pricked it from the shelf, sitting in the rocking chair while opening its front cover. The words on each page were familiar, immersive as intended, and for a few quiet moments, you thought of nothing but its premise as you whispered nonsensical sentences in their written order.

Time passed quicker than you thought; by the third chapter, you heard the bedroom door creak open, and in stepped a refreshed Alastor. You beamed a coy smile his way as he shut the door behind him, returning your smile with tired eyes while walking over to you, “Mornin’ darlin’..”

“Good morning, mon cher. You look much better.” you muse as he leans down to kiss your head, “Thank you, sweetheart. Once I get some rest, I might feel better as well.” He doesn't stand up fully, content with being at eye level with you to converse, and you unconsciously blush from the intensity of his gaze. Strands of his hair were curled into its natural waves, dripping with tiny water droplets, slithering down his mocha skin with every breath he took. It was a miracle his glasses didn't fog up, resting neatly on his face and doing nothing but accentuating his piercing brown eyes.

You could get lost in his stare; that ocean of amber took your breath away effortlessly, and you wondered if the trait would pass on to your child.

Indeed, it would… surely he'd love it.

A lump formed in your throat as anxious excitement built in your chest. You needed to tell him calmly, but the longer you waited, the more you wanted to hide away.

Did he want this?

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…”

He'd said it himself, but it was hard for you to deny that Alastor was very vague with his genuine emotions. Even as his wife, you found him hard to read

There was only one way for you to find out, and stalling wouldn't solve anything. Alastor studied your expression as you thought, perceptive to the minor changes in your mood, “My dear, are you alright?” he asked firmly. You perk up, nodding slowly while clutching the book to your chest, “I-Im, I'm fine... It's just that I have to tell you something rather delicate..”

Alastor raised a brow, watching as you bit your lip and stared at your lap, “The news you alluded to earlier this evening?” His eyes narrow, glinting with prowess as he ponders the possibilities of your announcement.

With a heavy sigh, you nod again, shutting the book before placing it in your lap, gripping it tight with one hand as the other instinctively rests on your stomach. You feel his gaze shift from your face, fixated on your abdomen, as you stumble out an explanation.

“I. Well, I'm… “ you cut yourself off when words fail, reaching for his hand gently, placing it over your own as a nervous smile adorns your face.

Oh…does she mean to say?…

Alastor froze as the warmth of your skin settled against his palm, rising and falling in a gentle pattern as you willed yourself to breathe normally while gauging his reaction. His shadows quivered in the darkness of the room, able to hear two faint heartbeats underneath the drum of your own, and the definitive sound brought a grin to his face.

It seems she's given us exactly what we hoped for. Twice the yield as well.

How delightful.

Alastor knelt before you, placing both hands on your stomach, eyes soft with affection as he finally voiced his thoughts.

“My darling wife is going to be a mother..” pride laced his tone as he averted his gaze to yours, grin ever present as you nodded excitedly with a bright smile, “And you're going to be father..” you whisper.

Your words drifted quietly in the air, sinking into Alastor’s consciousness and stirring his specters into a giddy frenzy.

My wife is having my children…

Mine and only mine.

A laugh rippled in his chest as the possessive thought invaded his mind, growing stronger as he heard your delighted giggles join his. “Come here, darlin’…” Alastor lifted you with one gentle tug on your wrists, catching you in his arms as your feet hovered off the ground. “Alastor!” you yelped excitedly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt and laughing more as he pecked your lips tenderly. You hummed into the passionate kiss, arms locking around his neck as you kicked a foot up gingerly. He tasted like mint, calm, and refreshing. A welcomed contrast to the waning heat you felt as your nerves winded down.

He was pleased to know, which filled your heart with relief.

——- ——- ———

“Oh, my stars! Al! Y/n! I'm overjoyed for you both!” Rosie shot up from her seat, dress flowing as she glided around the coffee table to squeeze you in a tight hug as you set out the platter of sweets you'd finished baking moments ago. “Thank you, Rosie. I still can't believe it myself,” you blushed as she squealed, drawing back a bit to cup your face with both hands; her eyes sparkled with admiration as she looked between you and Alastor -who sat comfortably in an armchair. He hadn't stopped grinning since your return home from the countryside, rambling on and on to his mother about the news until the last minute, and he insisted on telling Rosie as soon as you stepped foot in New Orleans again. She was his long-time friend, after all, yours as well, by extension, and so you didn't mind revealing the news to her. Just as his mother felt like your own, Rosie filled the space of an older sister for you. She was energetic, fashionable, and constantly aware of everyone's lives.

She was a true gossip girl, but you enjoyed her company more than others.

“Al, you devil! You could've waited another year to knock my dearest friend up! Now, who will I take out on the town?..” She huffed dramatically but couldn't hold her frown as you giggled softly while he waved a hand dismissively. “I'm sure you'll survive, my dear.” he quips. Rosie rolls her eyes, returning his nonchalant gesture with an equally smug smirk, “I suppose you're right. Although, my nights out won't be as thrilling anymore with you gone being a new father and such, Al.”

He sat straighter. You happened to catch the slightest frown on his face at Rosie’s comment, but it vanished when he felt your eyes on him. “I'll accompany you on occasion when time allows it.” His response is politely chaste, and one might deem it disappointing.

Was he bothered by the notion of having less time with Rosie?

You knew they ventured to socialite parties together regularly, something they'd done long before you married him, but you never questioned it since Rosie assured you it was their fun hobby. Still, you felt concerned that Alastor could regret the idea of children if it meant a less spontaneous party going with his oldest friend.

You opened your mouth to say something, stepping towards where he sat, but Rosie grabbed your hands and whisked you away to sit on the plush sofa with her. “We must discuss everything Y/n. Having a child is no small feat, and I know Al won't spare any expense.” She grinned, squeezing your hands gently, and you smiled back at her before sparing your husband a curious glance. “He spoils me too much already, so I think he'll naturally do the same for the baby,” a soft laugh floated from you, and he tipped his head reassuringly while pulling out his pocket watch to check the time. “Whatever their little heart desires, I shall give,” he replies calmly, standing to his feet and gazing between you and Rosie. “It's about time I head on over to the station. I don't suppose you’ll be leaving anytime soon, Rosie?”

You checked the grandfather clock that stood against the adjacent wall, noticing it was nearly time for his broadcast to begin, “Seems we lost track of time.” you smiled apologetically at Alastor. He shook his head while chuckling, “It's not your fault, darling. I got caught up listening to this one ramble,” he gestured to Rosie before walking over to the parlor room coat stand. He pricked his preferred overcoat, slipping it on quickly as she glared at his back. “Is that any way to speak of your child’s future honorary aunt and godmother!” she faked a skeptical look to which you feigned concern, “Oh, my dear Rosie, he didn't mean it, I swear!”

Alastor turned on his heel, biting back a more comprehensive smile as he admired the two of you carrying on, “I will not apologize for telling the truth, ma chère, but Rosie does have the privilege of godmother so that for I will ask for her forgiveness.” he stood behind the sofa, leaning down a bit to kiss you once then twice before pulling away with a content hum.

Rosie watched the sweet exchange, able to separate the manic version of Alastor she killed from the doting husband he was in your presence, proud to see him so controlled and happy. He pulled away from you, adoring the glimmer in your eyes as you reached a hand up to adjust his glasses, “I love you,” you whisper, and he blanks for a moment, hearing the endearing phrase.

Love…is that what this is?…

Would it be so wrong to say it back?…

A flash of vulnerability crosses Alastor’s face, and you're tempted to take your words back, but he beats you to speak. “Je t'aime aussi..” he mutters back, stepping away to bid Rosie a proper goodbye, “Take good care of her while I'm gone.” he kisses her cheek, and she swats his arm, “Oh, you know I will. Now run along before you're late!” He heads to her, scolding her out the door in seconds, leaving you in her company.

“I thought he'd never leave,” Rosie chirps, glad to have some privacy to speak with you and eager to get down to the details you had to tell. “Tell me, how do you feel, honey? I know this all might be terrifying you…” she spoke softly, pricking a freshly baked cookie from the platter you set out, and you nodded timidly in agreement while fidgeting with your hands.

“I'm scared, yes, but not of being a mother. You know I've always wanted to be one. It was my biggest dream when I came of age, and I'm glad it's coming true with Al..” You rested a hand on your stomach, feeling it flip at the mention of him, and luckily, no urge to throw up followed.

Thank goodness for Angelique and her tonics!

She'd given you a case of vials to take home, all containing a special brew made by her hand, and she'd given you a strict regimen for consuming them.

“Drink two of these twice daily, morning and evening, but only take it after you've eaten. Have Alastor phone me when you need more..”

Whatever was given had a wonderous effect on your mood, reduced your fatigue, and calmed your nerves. You were grateful for her assistance, but not everything you felt could be cured with medicine.

You hoped Rosie would understand, could help calm what the tonics couldn't, so as she peered at you curiously and asked, “What's the matter, dearest?” you inevitably blurted out your worst and only fear.

“I'm afraid of how Alastor will be as a father..”

She blinked, taken aback by your confession, but it didn't show on her face. “May I ask why?”

You hesitated, fidgeting with your hands again as you thought of what to say, but Rosie rested a hand on yours to still them in a gentle grip. “Y/n, it's alright, be honest. He may have been my closest companion initially, but you are my truest friend in this moment. I'm here to listen, not to criticize. He won't hear a word of it, I swear.”

You glanced between your conjoined hands and her kind smile, and after debating whether or not to spill your heart out, you decided it wouldn't hurt to express your doubts.

You could trust Rosie. Right?…

“Well, I know he wants children. He recently told me so, but it's how he'll receive them. Alastor is a complex man, we both know that, but I fear that complexity will make it hard for him to…to..” you tried to phrase the last of your concerns gently, unsure if what you said made any sense to her, but Rosie merely smiled before finishing the thought for you.

“You're afraid he won't show them love?..”

You nod, heart clenching at the thought, “Yes. I know how his childhood went; I was there through it all, so I know his father wasn't the best man. I know what he put his mother through and Alastor hates the idea of becoming like him..”

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to tear up as memories of Alastor coming to you in the dead of night, bruised and battered but stoic as ever as he asked to sleep next to you in your bed. He'd never tell you what happened, where his father was, or if he'd been majorly injured. You'd have to coax information out of him, promise him that you'd never betray his safety, or tell your father what went on in his family. Then and only then would he relax, let you mend his scars before huddling under the thick covers with you, and though you were both exhausted, you'd whisper stories aloud to each other until the sun peeked through the trees.

It felt odd to wish for times like that to return; they all resorted from darker places, but it brought you two closer. You were able to understand Alastor to an extent most speculated of. With all the insight into his life, you hoped the irrational fears you felt would wither away, but after the incident at his mother's, they just worsened.

It felt as if he were hiding something from you.

At first, the notion piqued your curiosity, but now it ate away at your conscience.

What was he withholding from you, and did you need or want to know more?

Logic voted ‘yes,’ but your trusting nature leaned towards ‘no.’

“He won't ever be like him. I'm sure, but he's only recently expressed he cares for me. Truly loves me, so I suppose I'm afraid of that same affection not being openly expressed to our little one as well.”

Rosie nodded, scooting closer and giving you a tight side hug to calm your frazzled state. “My dear, you have every right to fear such a thing. However, if I may vouch for Alastor, I do believe his softer side will show itself for your child.” You peered at her, hope in your eyes, “Really? You think so?..”

She grins, “I am certain of it! He cherishes you like no other! Unlike my husband, yours is a dime and a man who'd kill for you if necessary.”

You blush, surprised by her claim, “I don't think he'd kill for me, Rosie, but I understand the sentiment.” She scoffs, hand rubbing your shoulders, and retorts, “Yes, he would, and he'd show the same devotion to your bundle of joy.”

Her statement soothed your worries, but the seriousness in her tone made your heart skip a beat.

It felt as though she did know he'd kill for you…kill for your child.

A shiver racked your body at the thought.

I hope it never comes to that…

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What do you guys think of the story so far? I'm just curious to hear your thoughts and theories.❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He may be a monster, but at least he's dedicated to it; morally grey, but honest to his silly little murderous behaviors ❤️ credits to the creator

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feralforfrank · 9 days

Text

fuck it, give me mean!reader. / pt2

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

cw cursing, bad writing, NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER

a/n i see so many innocent/soft/polite!reader paired with simon, but i've barely come across mean!reader (to everyone except, eventually, simon).

i want reader that isn't intimidated by his size or his glare or his mask at all. she just finds it annoying as fuck. (you'll see)

masterlist | taglist

simon's attention is completely on you from the moment he laid eyes on you. you're in a bar, and he's coming out of the loo, not looking in front of him. he bumps into you — a pretty thing, shorter than him, the top of your head reaching his shoulder — and the collision causes your beer to spill all over your shirt.

"bloody fucking hell, man! watch where you're fucking going!"

you're soaked and your shirt clings on your body, and simon's wide eyes shamelessly wander over it. you're hot.

you look down at the mess he's made, fingers dripping beer as you wave the empty bottle away from you. your eyes snap up to meet his in an icy glare, and he must admit that his rookies back in base would definitely cower under your stare.

"a sorry would be nice. i have nothing to cover myself with and it's cold outside." you scoff.

you raise your eyebrows, waiting for a response. you're surprised he hasn't walked away yet. his eyes express the boredom and unamusement of the situation. you sigh a few seconds later, realising he's opted at staring at your bra rather than being a gentleman and apologising.

you nod at brenda, the bartender, calling her name and sliding the empty bottle her way. to the bathroom it is, then. you just hope you can dry it enough for your bra not to show.

"move, you brute." you push past the silent giant, cursing like a sailor under your breath.

you don't realise he's followed you, in the women's restroom, until several minutes later, when you're struggling to soak up the alcohol with paper towels. simon's leaning on the doorway, arms crossed as he watches you unbutton your shirt.

"y'gonna giv'me a show, lov'?"

he startles you, and you grab the soap by the sink, arm raised to throw it at him, but you stop yourself.

"you've come to spill another drink on me, or just to stare at my boobs?"

you turn your back on him, unbuttoning the rest. sneaking a glance in the mirror, you're surprised to find his eyes cast elsewhere. good.

"you need something, dickhead?" you look at him as you place your shirt directly under the hand dryer, hoping it'll do the job faster.

his eyes don't meet yours, stuck on a big ben painting on the wall.

"didn't get to apologise." his voice is smooth, accent thick.

"well, you're not forgiven. shirt's still soaked and i smell like beer. so..."

if simon was being one hundred percent honest, he was shocked by your boldness. you'd met him several moments ago, yet you'd called him several names, while also glaring daggers. he wasn't used to anyone behaving like that around him or talking to him in that way. he was definitely intrigued.

"a drink on me, then?" additionally to finding you extremely attractive, you seemed interesting and he — although, he wouldn't admit it — wanted to hear more of the variety of names you had for him.

you shake your head. "there's no way i'm staying another minute in here." you pull on your semi-dry shirt. "i stink, curtesy of some random, abnormally tall idiot, who forgets there's shorter pople in the world."

the laugh comes unexpectedly. your eyes train on him as you button up, glaring.

"you're laughing at me, now?"

simon barely shakes his head (while also trying to conceal his laughing), and you, once again, push past him. he follows you albeit a lot slower, watches you as you grab your things and call brenda over to pay her.

he slams the cash on the bar before you can take your wallet out, nodding at the woman and telling her to keep the change.

"i told you, stranger, apology not accepted."

he shrugs, draping his jacket over your shoulders. he'd picked up his things on the way over, dead set on apologising - in his own way. he was never good with words, and you seemed not to like that method either.

"simon."

"what?" you look up to him.

"name's simon. not stranger, or idiot, or dickhead. although, i quite like that one."

your eyes soften the tiniest bit as he looks down to meet your gaze. you notice the crinkle by his eyes when he gives you a stiff smile.

"well, si—dickhead, i'd appreciate it if you didn't use me as a human hanger, and let me go home." you move to shrug off his jacket, but he stops you.

his big hand brushes to the small of your back and he pushes you forwars softly. "go on, then. i don't know the way to your house."

you look confused. eyes narrowed and lips turned downwards in a pout. cute.

"a-are you...? you're walking me home?"

"i gotta show how sorry i am for drenching you in beer, one way or another, right?"

you sigh, shoulders slumping in surrender. you pull your arms through the sleeves, and to no one's surprise, the jacket is massive on you.

you motion for him to follow you. "i got peper spray in my bag though." your icy tone from before is back.

simon suppresses his smirk. "mhm."

"i won't hesitate to use it, dickhead."

man....this is kind of shit....but i got do many ideas off of it....

#ohmygkd i need him #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost cod #ghost cod x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley fluff #fluff #cod: mwii #frank writes

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nytb · 6 months

Text

Punch after punch

Click here first <3

A born and raised Zaragozan, surrounded by boxing for her whole life, Y/N. A cocky persona, an undefeated record - everyone wanted to take her down, but Alexia only desired to be taken out by the Spaniard.

Both stars met at Mapi's new apartment festivities - that woman always had an excuse to throw a dinner party. After many attempts to turn the invite down, Y/N caved - Mapi was one of her childhood friends, that meant a lot to Y/N.

Little did the boxing star know, it was a setup.

Mapi had been led down the "it could turn out to be the romantic story everyone dreams of" road. Alexia had her way with words, sweetening a manipulation scheme into a cute little invite to the dinner party a certain Y/N would happen to attend.

To be completely honest, Alexia had been pining over the boxer for a while now. In Spain, any female athlete that rises to the top that fast is going to show up on people's radars.

In Alexia's case, Y/N's first appearance in the midfielder's life was through an iPhone screen - a pool party at a rooftop in Zaragoza, both Y/N and Mapi's home-town. The boxer was the center of the party, women practically threw themselves at her at any possibility - but Y/N remained respectful, putting space between anyone who so much as dared to approach her body.

That detail was engraved in Alexia's mind - well that and her body. Boxers are known to have the body everyone dreams of, especially during fighting season.

Alexia had made it her mission to be one of the first people to show up, something that alerted Mapi - the midfielder loved to be fashionably late, to be the center of attention when she arrived anywhere.

As people showed up, Alexia's demeanor changed. Person after person walked through the door, Y/N was nowhere in sight. Was she a no show? Was her word worth nothing?

That was until high pitch squeaks came from the door. Y/N had arrived and the dinner guests knew it. The boxer, now tangled with two beautiful women on her neck as they welcomed her, didn't even fight against the invasion of her private space.

Odd - that's all that Alexia allowed herself to think of the situation, jealousy wasn't yet an option.

As Y/N made her way to the terrace, where Mapi was entertaining her Norwegian girlfriend's friends, Alexia made it her mission to stay on the sidelines. She wasn't about to be caught gravelling for someone's attention.

"I see you still love throwing parties" Y/N hugged Mapi, everyone around them eyeing the boxer up and down.

Tight T-Shirt, ripped Jeans, simple sneakers. A simple fit but paired with a godlike physique could be the downfall of anyone.

"And I see that you're still a workaholic" the defender replies "Didn't even have time to dry your hair or is this a quick visit?" she questions.

The boxer was quick to reply "Do you really think that I would do that to you?"

"Wouldn't be the first time"

Mapi had grown accustomed to the little time Y/N had for friends or family.

"In my defense" Y/N started "That time I didn't know that it was a stay over party" she joked.

"Let me introduce you" Mapi grabbed Y/N and threw her to the wolves. "Seeing as how this might be my only chance, it's your time to meet everyone" she laughed mischievously.

As the party went on, Alexia - still holding on to the not catching me groveling tactic - decided that enough was enough.

Making her way to the terrace, hoping to come up with a good excuse to leave the party early, Alexia was snatched by a tall Norwegian.

"Everything ok?" Ingrid questioned, full worry on display.

"Oh yeah yeah..." the midfielder replied, clearly her excuse was still being workshopped in her head "I - I don't.. "

The Norwegian cut her off "I think that the excuse you're looking for is over there" pointing to a corner of the terrace.

Y/N, sat on the floor, leaning back on her arms behind her back. All alone.

"Go" Ingrid surely knew something. "Don't think that you insisting on joining a random dinner party went unnoticed by me" she smiled.

Fuck.

"How- " the midfielder began to question only to be cut off again "Go quickly, I'm pretty sure that someone else is eyeing her, so don't waste your chance" and with a smirk and a quick turn of her hips Ingrid was off, back to her girlfriend's arms.

"Not like the noise?" Alexia asked as she joined Y/N's side.

"More like I would rather be sleeping and not have hawks eyeing me down like I'm their next prey" the boxer replied.

"Wha-"

"Oh, you're doing it too" Apparently everyone is cutting Alexia off tonight.

"I see that you didn't need me to introduce you girls" Mapi jokes, clearly not knowing how sour the introduction had gotten.

"Actually, I wanted to go say bye to you" Alexia hugged Mapi "I have to go, you know- stuff" the midfielder didn't even try to come up with an excuse.

"That was odd" the defender turned to see how Alexia was actually leaving. "I feel like I missed something" she scratched the back of her head, clearly puzzled by the interaction.

"Yup, my fault" Y/N stood up. "I'll go fix it, see you later" the boxer excused herself, picking up her pace to not be stopped by any guests as she made her way to the door.

Apartments having an underground parking was never this useful, even if Alexia wanted to leave, she wouldn't be able to do so before being seen by Y/N.

"Hey" the boxer exclaimed, hoping to catch Alexia's attention. "Sorry about that" she excused herself, clearly acknowledging that she was an utter dick to the midfielder previously "Tough day at work" she approached quickly.

"We all have those" Alexia replied, cold voice, standoffish. "Not really a good excuse though"

"Yeah because your having stuff to do was a good excuse" Y/N joked, it falling flat as Alexia didn't seem the slightest bit amused by the comment.

"Maybe we don't all eye you like hawks" the midfielder attacked back.

"Maybe I want you to"

"Hello, I'm Alexia and I have stuff to do" the midfielder mocked the boxer's previous failed introduction as she turned her back to the boxer, reaching for her car's door, wanting to flee whatever was happening.

"No" Y/N kept the midfielder's car closed, now positioned at an arm's reach between the boxer and her own car "Not going anywhere until I at least get your phone number"

The midfielder turned around "Has this move actually ever worked?" she scoffed.

"Maybe its the first time that I try it"

"You should try harder, this isn't going to work on me"

"So there is something that would work on you?" The boxer smirked, slowly entering Alexia's personal space. Slowly forcing the midfielder's back against her own car, the midfielder allowed whatever was happening.

"I thought that you liked keeping your personal space - private"

"Scared of what happens when I don't?" the boxer questioned, whispering mere inches away from Alexia's lips.

"No" a whisper that came off like a soft moan slipped her mouth.

"So if I kiss you, right here" the boxer graced Alexia's bottom lip with her thumb, pulling her closer "You wouldn't fight it?"

The midfielder's hands slid to the boxer's abdomen "You missed your chance", she whispered against Y/N's lips.

"Are you sure about that?" Y/N looked at the midfielder up and down, hunger in her eyes "Because your body says differently"

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"Maybe I would start by kissing you" the boxer pinned Alexia's hips with her own "I would start here" she whispers against the midfielder's neck, Alexia throws her head back from sheer pleasure. "Maybe I would lift you up into my arms, place you on the bonnet of your car" Y/N kept Alexia fantasizing "I would devour you right here - " her hands hover against the midfielder's body and before she could finish her sentence Alexia pounces.

Bringing the boxer's lips against her own, digging her nails into Y/N's lower back.

That's when Y/N took back control of the situation, pinning the midfielder against the car, holding the midfielder's head firmly in place as she worked her mouth.

The kiss quickly turned rough as Y/N picked up the pace, slipping her tongue into the midfielder's mouth as Alexia's quiet moans turned louder.

Y/N's mouth went straight to the midfielder's neck, gently nibbling at it as she picked the midfielder up off the ground. Alexia's ankles locking behind the boxer's back, bringing her even closer to her body.

"More" she begs and Y/N obliges, laying her on Alexia's bonnet, just like she promised. Tugging at the midfielder's dress, slowly lifting it while she deepened the kiss.

"More" Alexia moaned.

"Command me" Y/N nibbled at the midfielder's ear "Tell me what you want"

"You" she begged "Here, right now"

That was all it took. Y/N grabs Alexia's body and places her lower, letting her legs dangle from the bonnet. Settling herself on her knees Y/N devoured the midfielder, at first slowly, gently licking her from entrance to clit, reaching up to play with her nipples but as Alexia begged for more Y/N obliged.

Rough licks, putting pressure on her clit before introducing a finger into the midfielder and as she moaned, rolling her hips as she looked for a release of pleasure.

"Still." Y/N ordered "Stay. Still." She punctuated every word.

For a minute she followed the instructions given to her but as Y/N introduced a second finger into the midfielder she broke. Grabbing the boxer's hand that was previously stimulating her hard nipple, playing with it between thumb and forefinger.

Y/N stopped, lifting herself off the ground and hovering over Alexia. Keeping the midfielder's hands pinned against the bonnet, grabbing her wrists.

"I told you to stay still" Y/N groaned, pure lust displayed in Alexia's beautiful hazel eyes, mirroring her own. As the midfielder reached up, trying to pounce, taking advantage of how close the midfielder was, Y/N pinned her harder.

"No" Y/N muttered "That's not how this works"

The boxer grabbed Alexia's hips, leading the midfielder onto her feet. "You get what I give you" Y/N commanded "Now turn around"

Alexia didn't fight it, quickly turning on her feet and as Y/N pulled her flush against her body she moaned.

The boxer's hands travel down Alexia's body as she sucks on her neck, nibbles her ear, releases the midfielder's hair from the loose bun.

A quick attack as from one second to the next Y/N bit Alexia's neck, this time roughly, as she inserted a finger into the midfielder making her moan in the process. Her head flew back giving Y/N even more access to her neck and as she grabbed the boxer's hair, Y/N attacked her mouth.

Her tongue slips into Alexia's mouth, in total sync with her finger as she adds another. The midfielder's hips rolled again but this time Y/N pinned her hard against her body, not allowing the midfielder to move a single inch.

"Still" Y/N repeated.

Alexia moaned, each time louder as Y/N brought her close to release.

"Let go" the boxer ordered and seconds later Alexia crumbled, coming on Y/N's fingers, her hips shuddering. A loud moan threatens to leave her lips as Y/N muffles the sound with a deep kiss, this time softer. "Beautiful"

#woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #fc barcelona woso #fc barcelona femeni #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas woso

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my-own-walker · 10 months

Note

requesting kit with younger reader, where he picks her up from college and takes her for a milkshake but then they have sex in his car and after he has to drop her down the street because her parents don’t approve of him

Oh! You Pretty Things

note: this is cuteeeeee. thanks for the spicy kit request. i was getting bored of writing inside-the-asylum kit hehe

warnings: sm*t, p in v, oral m receiving, teasing, cursing, kinda overstim, not really tho

+++

The second hand moved so slowly on the clock, I thought it might be broken. Class always went slower when I knew I’d be seeing Kit afterward. Thursdays were our day.

My parents didn’t know. They hated the idea of me being distracted from my studies by some silly boy. I was, in fact, sticking my neck out by going to college as a woman, so I had to succeed. But, the new decade called for liberation for us women. I was proving a point by being able to date and do well in school.

I digress. I met Kit after my father's car got a flat. He showed up in his tow truck to save the day.

'Scummy, those mechanics,' my father quipped as we drove away.

I walked to the gas station Kit said he worked at the next day, set on getting him to ask me on a date.

We'd been secretly meeting up for dates ever since. He'd come to pick me up after my last class of the day every Thursday and take me out somewhere. I could, at times, sneak away to see Kit on other days of the week, but Thursdays were a set date. My mother and father had no idea. They thought I would stay late to study.

In my daydreaming daze, I almost didn't notice my classmates getting up to leave. I gathered my things hastily and rushed out of the room and into the bright daylight of the afternoon. The sun's light on the pavement was nearly blinding. I shaded my eyes with my hand as I walked to the curb, looking desperately for Kit's car.

Within seconds, his shiny black car came slowly up to the side of the street.

'Hey, pretty thing! You goin' my way, doll?' he called out of his window, acting as if he were a creepy stranger. I giggled and got into the passenger's side.

'You have no idea how nice it feels to do this,' I sighed, kicking my shoes off as Kit drove off.

'Rough day, beautiful?' He wore his work uniform. Some jeans, a white undershirt, and his button-up with his name on it. His hair was perfectly tousled, and the shirt was unbuttoned so that part of the white undergarment was showing. He looked soft and warm, and his smile lit up his eyes.

'Just a very long one, and I'm starving.'' I said, drawing out the word 'very.' I flipped down the visor and slid open the mirror, smoothing my hair and fixing the line of my lipstick while regarding my reflection. I pulled the tube of peach lipstick out of my bag and touched up my pout, making faces at myself all the while.

'Havin' fun over there?' Kit laughed.

'I'm beginning to think this shade is old hat,' I sighed. 'Maybe I should try red like Marilyn.'

'I don't care what color they are so long as I get to kiss 'em,' he smirked, taking one hand off the steering wheel and placing it on my upper thigh. I didn't even notice how far my dress had ridden up my leg since getting in the car.

I blushed and giggled, tucking the front pieces of my hair behind my ears. I will admit, I was still in the lavender haze with him.

He pulled into the parking lot of the small roadside diner in our town. It was quaint, tucked away in some trees, filled with truckers from out-of-state and old ladies meeting for lunch. It was a stone's throw from Kit's job, and the perfect place to hide away. Somewhere neither of my parents would dare go.

We sat at the tall counter in the center of the place. This was part of our little Thursday routine. I would always come out of class absolutely ravenous. We'd pick far-away or unknown places to eat before truly spending time together.

'You want somethin', my pretty thing?' Kit asked as the waitress stood in front of us.

'Honestly, a milkshake would be a gas,' I smiled up at the waitress. 'Strawberry.'

'That's all you want?' Kit asked as she walked away. 'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, Kit, I'm alright,' I replied, feeling around in my bag for a light for my cigarette. 'Shit, I must have dropped my lighter somewhere. It's not here.'

'Don’t worry doll, I got you,' he drawled, flicking his own open and holding it under the cigarette clenched in my teeth. I took a long drag and exhaled. The waitress returned and placed my drink in front of me, and Kit's meal in front of him.

I looked over at Kit and caught him taking me in. He looked me up and down and chuckled softly.

'My, you are a dream,' he cooed, placing a hand on my chin to bring me in for a kiss. I went in for a peck and was alarmed to find that Kit wanted more.

'Baby, not here,' I said through gritted teeth, pulling away quickly. I looked around to make sure no one saw. 'You're an animal.' I laughed and he returned the smile.

'I just can't control myself around you, pretty.'

'Well then hurry up and finish your food so we can peel out,' I giggled, pushing his shoulder playfully.

There was an old abandoned schoolhouse in town 5 minutes away from my house. Kit and I would find ourselves in the back parking lot frequently. Tucked away from the public eye in his car.

As soon as Kit parked the car, he dragged me into the back seat with him. We made out furiously, like two caged animals that were finally set free. It was a small space, but we sure made it work.

I took over, immediately pushing Kit's back up against the door, placing my hands on his chest to hold him down. His white undershirt was soft against my palms. I could feel his heart pounding furiously beneath my fingertips. A pace that signaled to me just how much he wanted this.

We kissed for only a short time before clothes started getting removed. First, I aided him in removing his work shirt. Then, I worked to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. He slid them off quickly. I took that time to remove my panties, throwing them hastily to the front seat.

His erection was noticeable through his white briefs. My hand immediately reached to touch it, only for it to be held back.

'Not yet, sweetheart,' he smiled. He pushed me back into the door on my side and continued making out with me. His hands groped all over my body, paying particular attention to my breasts. 'Oh this dress just won't do,' he muttered.

My high-necked smock dress was fit for school, yes, but not for this. He reached behind me and unzipped the fabric smoothly. He tugged the material and it slid down to expose my bra. Kit smiled as he looked into my eyes, then turned his attention back to my chest. He peppered kisses all over my sensitive skin, making goosebumps raise all over my body.

First, he slid my left bra strap off my shoulder, creating a bit more slack and revealing more of my skin. He took his time to kiss all of the areas of skin he hadn't before, going agonizingly slow so that I would get hot and bothered. He loved when I was hot and bothered.

Next was the right bra strap. The ceremony continued. His ritualistic dance of adorning love to every inch of my body made every horrible minute spent without him worth it. His mouth inched closer and closer to the very edge of my bra. Eventually, I gave in to the teasing and reached back to unhook the damn thing myself.

Deciding I'd had enough, though, I pushed Kit back again. This time, all the way down so that he was laying across the back seat. My hand reached for his bulge and stroked it. He whimpered in pleasure. I took the waistband of his briefs in my fingers and tugged, making his dick spring loose.

I lined myself up with him and slid his throbbing erection into my slick middle, feeling every inch of it go deeper and deeper into me. I cried out involuntarily and began bouncing on it, feeling our two bodies connect naturally. My walls tightened around it. He moaned softly.

'Oh baby, yeah,' he spat through gritted teeth as I continued to ride him. I stooped down and kissed him passionately, still keeping a rhythm. His shaking hands reached up to grope my breasts again, this time more firmly. He slid his hands down to my waist and held it, almost as if he were trying to feel some sort of control over me.

I continued moving my hips atop his dick. His length went so deep within me, I thought I'd scream. I put both of my palms on either side of his chest to steady myself. His breathing got more ragged, and I could feel his heart racing still.

'Fuck,' Kit grunted, trying not to come so easily. He gathered what strength he had a lifted me off of his erection by my waist. I sat back and slid down to a laying position as he rose to position himself above me, both of us maintaining eye contact as we went. He wanted a turn on top.

I didn't even get a chance to settle before his large cock was inside me again. I yelped and screwed my eyes closed, existing at that moment at his very will. He held my wrists, which were resting just next to my head, down so that I couldn't move. I whined in protest but was silenced by his lips on mine.

Sweat formed on his brow. I could feel myself succumbing to the waves of orgasm. But, neither of us wanted to be the first to give in. I breathed heavily to steel myself, but it was to no avail. I came first, crying out and moaning loudly. He slid out of me and stroked my hair as the fits of pleasure overtook me.

Kit sat back against the door on his side of the car once again, breathing heavily. I regained my composure and sat up, sitting back on my heels. I stooped down and took his pre-cum covered dick in my mouth. I flicked my tongue over the tip and reveled in the whimpers and cries Kit was letting out. He grabbed and pulled my hair gently as I continued to suck him off.

'I-I'm gonna come,' he mustered, trying to warn me in case I wanted to stop. Instead, I let him blow his load directly into my mouth. I ignored the warmth and bitter taste as I swallowed. He moaned and threw his head back, eventually relaxing into his position. I wiped my mouth and sat back as well.

Recovered from his orgasm, Kit leaned forward and laid half-beside and half-on me, resting his head on my chest. I sighed in contentment.

'God, you're good at that,' Kit whispered, laughing softly. I laughed too. He grabbed my hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss it. He kissed the back of each finger as well to emphasize his gratefulness. He nestled closer into me. I nearly fell asleep listening to his breathing even out.

I gasped suddenly when I looked out the window and saw the sun setting. 'Shit, Kit, we have to get me home!'

We both worked quickly to redress. He helped me with the tough job of zipping up the back of my dress. I scrambled out of the back door and into the passenger door, slamming it shut and bringing the visor down to once again look at myself in the mirror. Kit clambered up to the front from the back seat and settled himself in.

He turned the key in the ignition and started the car up. He paused, though, before going. I looked away from fixing my lipstick for a moment to see what was the matter. Kit shifted in his seat and reached for something that was under him. In his hand was my panties.

'I uh, think you're gonna need these,' he chuckled, blushing. I smacked his arm and snatched them from his grip.

'Oh, hush! Stop! It's not funny,' I protested, half-laughing as well. I shoved them into my handbag demonstratively. 'Now hurry up and drive!'

The ride home was quick enough. The sun was still setting as Kit got to the end of my street. He had to drop me there to avoid my parents seeing anything.

'Are you sure you're gonna be okay walking over there this late? I don't need anyone snatching my girl,' Kit spoke.

'I'll be fine, Kit. No one really walks my street. Plus, it's not even that dark,' I assured him.

'Well okay, but I'll be parked here watching ya, okay?'

'Just don't be too obvious,' I warned.

He leaned over and grabbed my face, pulling me in for one last, passionate kiss. When I pulled away, my lipstick was all over his face. I just chuckled to myself and opened the door.

'I love you, you pretty thing,' he called after me.

'I love you too, Kit,' I smiled.

+++

Literally cannot lie I got a bit, uh, bothered myself writing this one LOL. Let me know if you liked this one!

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x reader #kit walker #evan peters oneshot #kit walker imagine #kit walker x female reader #kit walker x reader #ahs asylum #kit walker smut #ahs smut

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megamindsecretlair · 3 months

Text

What You Deserve, Part 1

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic filth. Infidelity. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play, dirty talk, praise kink, Daddy kink, all consensual.

Summary: While out running errands for your family, sweet and handsome Stunna helps put the groceries in your car. A naughty, run-away thought leads you to invite him back to your house to thank him properly.

Word Count: 6,984k

Part 2

A/N: The brainrot is REAL. This is a hot ask from @planetblaque Everybody say thank you for this toxic hot fic! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia

You walked down the grocery store aisle and the squeaky wheel on the cart was driving you nuts. You managed to get a lot on the list but you were still looking around for rice. You sighed. You hated when the store rearranged shit for no reason. How hard was it to keep things in the same place?

You turned down the rice aisle and noticed a tall man wearing a black and white flannel shirt, dark jeans, and boots. Damn, he looked really good standing there picking out taco packets. You looked down at your wedding ring and curled your lip in disgust.

Your husband would never be caught dead in the grocery store. And if he did, he’d only call you every two seconds because he didn’t pay attention to shit. He was a big picture man, staring ahead years into the future and what he needed to do to provide for the family.

Provide. That’s all he knew how to do. Your husband wasn’t a bad man…he was oblivious in a way that should have been a warning bell before you got married. As such, you were five years into the marriage with perfect five year old twins. When they weren’t being little demons.

You looked back towards the man and he was looking between two items, looking at the ingredients. You got a nice look at the length of his neck, his beard, and a cute little mumble he did while he debated.

You shouldn’t be checking out another man but well, you weren’t dead. You saw something pretty, you were going to look at it. And in this case, the man was too pretty for words. Or maybe it was your libido talking. After the kids, your husband paid less attention to that aspect of the marriage, forcing you into a life of celibacy.

Every blue moon, he’d look at you with something that could be called interest and then he’d get you just wet enough to get inside you. He’d get off, ask if you did, and then pass out in front of the TV. You started lying that you did just to get him out of the room. Who the hell wanted to be with someone that made sex feel like a chore?

You picked up a small packet of rice and then thought about it. The bigger packet was more expensive but it’d last longer. And with the way your son, Noah, ate he’d eat you out of house and home by the time he’s a teenager. You picked up the bigger packet and scooted off down the aisle.

You passed by the man. He looked up and gave you a double take, smiling as you passed showing off grills. You may have swayed your hips a little too hard as you turned the corner. Though, who were you fooling?

While the kids were at school and your husband was at work, you barely put any effort into how you looked. You were a married stay at home mom and that meant lounge pants and a T-shirt were your best friend. Sometimes you even matched. You had joined the invisible legion of women whose world stopped as you took care of your family. You were happy to do so, but it was times like these that made you feel like you lost that spark. That sense of identity outside of your family.

As you went down other aisles, somehow you managed to end up in the same ones with Mr. Sexy. It got to the point where’d notice first and smile at you. You smiled shyly back but avoided getting too close. He didn’t need any encouragement from you. If you were single though…

You sighed and made your way to the checkout lane. It was still early and there weren't a lot of people in the store. You checked out and pushed the cart to your truck, popping the trunk and starting to lift the bags inside.

“Excuse me! Miss!” A deep voice made you turn to the sound and there was Mr. Sexy waving over to you.

“Yes?” You asked.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to help with your bags,” he said when he got closer to your truck.

“Oh, that’s sweet but not necessary,” you said.

“Please. My mama would turn in her grave if she knew I didn’t help a beautiful woman like you,” he said.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a small smile. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

The small act of help touched you in ways that you weren’t expecting. As he lifted bags out of the cart, your eyes grew a little teary. When was the last time your own husband helped with groceries?

“You look like you feeding an army here,” the man said.

You giggled. Well, he was bound to find out. “Ah, yeah. My husband and kids can eat a lot,” you said.

You watched his face to see what the news would do to him. Whether he was sad or disappointed that you were off the market. He only nodded. “Must be some slammin’ food if they eatin’ it like that,” he said.

“I can throw down in the kitchen,” you bragged, preening a bit that you could do so.

“Oh yeah? What you be makin’? And just know I’m already judging,” he said. He heaved bag after bag into your trunk and it made you a little sad thinking of bringing all that shit in the house by yourself.

“Meatloaf, roast beef stew, enchiladas. In fact, I’m making that tonight,” you said.

“Oh word? I be cookin’ sometimes too,” he said and then grinned like he was remembering a funny joke. “Enchiladas sound good as hell right now, too.”

A naughty thought entered your mind. It was too brief and quick and you instantly kicked it to the back, hiding it in a tiny box and stepping on it. “You making anything special for your girl?” You asked.

He finished with the bags and then closed the trunk for you. “Naw, ain’t got a girl,” he said. He grinned at you. That smile could melt ice. You felt your pussy throb and your eyes widened. You about thought the damn thing was broken.

“It’s just you?” You asked.

“Just me, unfortunately. But that’s alright. For now, I get to make whatever the hell I want and enjoy it,” he said.

“Must be nice. My family loves my shit, but it’s not like they have an alternative,” you said and giggled.

“Shame. I bet it’s delicious,” he said. Was he…flirting with you? Even knowing you had a family?

“Thanks. I should probably get this home and start cooking. Thank you for helping me,” you said.

He reached out his hand and you looked at it. Somehow, even shaking his hand felt naughty. Like he was going to see all the nasty things running through your mind. Thoughts of riding his thigh until you got off. Soaking his dick while he slammed inside of you. The thoughts were so vivid to you, you were worried that he’d read it all over your face.

Another advantage to getting the house to yourself in the daytime was that you had plenty of toys to get the job done in peace. One thought about his face and you were sure you’d beat your personal record.

You shook his hand so you weren’t rude and he held on. “I’m Stunna,” he said. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss there. The back of your hand tingled and it moved all throughout your body until you were throbbing once more. Twice in a short amount of time? Calm down, girl. It wasn’t like you could do something with this man.

You told him your name. “Would you mind if I gave you my number? If you’re out shopping, I can help you again,” he said.

You giggled. “You would come all the way to the store just to help me load groceries into my car?”

“I’d unload them too if you let me,” he said. He was serious, not an ounce of humor on his face.

“You know I’m married, right? Like I didn’t bury that anywhere,” you said.

He laughed. “I heard that part, but I also don’t see the mu’fucka. Anyone letting you out of his sight must be ten kinds of stupid,” he said. He looked you over, making a show of turning his head one way and then another.

You laughed but didn’t let go of his hand. Found that you didn’t want to. Found that you were touch starved as hell and it was damn nice touching someone that looked as good as he did. “What, my husband supposed to have me on a leash?” You asked.

“Sheit, I would,” he said. “Yo sexy ass wouldn’t be able to breathe without me.”

“You better stop!” You said. Oh god, your cheeks were burning like hell and the whole thing was cute and weird and embarrassing. You did not get giggly because one man paid you a compliment.

He wasn’t the first one to do so. Even though your husband was buried with work, he still called you beautiful. Raggedy men still tried to holler at you while you pumped gas and ran errands. None were so bold as Stunna though. There was something about that level of confidence that had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Do you really want me to stop?” Stunna asked.

No. Not even a little bit. But you couldn’t say that. “You probably should. Gonna get us both in trouble,” you said.

“I don’t mind a little trouble. You never answered me about giving you my number. I was serious,” he said. “I don’t want anything in return, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d just like to see you again. Your husband don’t let you have friends?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes playfully and finally dropped his hand. You were holding onto it entirely too long. “I can have friends,” you said. But you knew that he’d be anything but friendly. And why did that turn you on?

“See, that’s that nigga’s first mistake. I wouldn’t let you have no friends neither,” he said.

You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Life with you sounds restrictive as hell! What if I want alone time?” You asked.

“You could have all the alone time you want. At home,” he said.

You couldn’t help laughing again, leaning against your truck as you pictured life with him. Life where he was clingy and wrapped entirely with you and never chose you over his work. The type of life you always dreamed about when you were younger and thought love meant candy hearts, roses, and bubbly champagne.

“You have issues, sir,” you said.

“That’s aight. You just look too damn good to go to the store by yourself or run errands. These belong on a honey-do list,” he said.

You smiled. Your husband would break out in hives if you gave him a honey-do list that involved the grocery store or runs to the clothing store for your twins. Your kids were active in every sense of the word. You made it a point that they stay off screens as much as possible and get out into the big backyard your husband paid for.

They found every mud patch, mudslide, and dusty hill to play on. When they came back in, they looked like swamp monsters. Your husband in the store trying to find good, cute outfits? Yeah right.

“You are crazy. But I want to thank you. How does enchiladas sound?” You asked.

“Word? I get to try some?” He asked.

“If you’re serious about helping me unpack these groceries, then yeah. I think that’s worth a meal being cooked for you for once,” you said. Intrusive thoughts won for the day. You liked talking to him and you were worried that if you gave him your number, you’d chicken out. You’d reason and logic this away until you were even more depressed about the state of your marriage.

It’d be nice to cook for someone who’d genuinely appreciate it. Rather than eating to live. Stunna seemed like the type that lived to eat and it was nice to find a kindred spirit.

He grinned wider, showing up a neat row of white teeth and those grills. “I’d love to try your food,” he said.

“Alright, follow me,” you said.

He walked you to the driver side of your car and held the door open for you while you climbed in. “See you soon,” he said and closed the door when you were safely inside. You put on your seatbelt and watched him return the cart to the proper place.

Your heart thundered in your chest as he made it to his own car. You started yours up and pulled out of the parking spot. A moment later, he was pulling up behind you. You drove home, heart in your throat. What the hell were you doing?

Stunna was a stranger and you were just letting this man follow you home. You watched his car in your rear view mirror and wondered what he was like. So far, he had been nothing but cordial but a tad forward. You knew he valued his mom and was a gentleman, even though he had silly ideas about how he’d treat his woman.

You remembered your single days. Grabbing enough food for yourself and eating lonely meal after lonely meal. Stunna didn’t seem like he was hurting for female company. It seemed like he was interested in yours and well, what the hell? You were grown, you could protect yourself.

Besides, you just really, really wanted to keep talking to him.

You pulled into your driveway and Stunna parked on the street. You were in the quiet suburbs where Black folks were just trying to get by. They had nice houses and decent jobs, but people were more interested in faking the funk than admitting that they were struggling.

Your husband was smart with money so you weren’t hurting. But buying two of everything was expensive. It seemed like Noah was always playing right out of the shoes you bought him and Naomi just had to have the latest baby doll.

Stunna joined you at your car and you unlocked it for him. He grabbed a handful in each hand and you were sorry he was wearing long-sleeves. You wanted to see his muscles work. You wanted to see his shirt off.

For now, you would settle with just watching him be considerate. You let him into your home and he whistled. “Nice ass house,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. You had it decorated to your specifications so it wasn’t stuffy and stiff. As if you lifted it from a magazine. Naw. Your house was lived in and full of love.

You walked to the kitchen and showed him where to drop off the bags. “Naw, I wanna earn my meal. Point to where they go and I’ll do it,” he said.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said.

“I know. Let me help. Sit yo pretty ass down and get some water,” he said.

“Fine,” you said with a grin. He grabbed the rest of the groceries from the car and closed your front door. You asked him to lock it. You may live in a nice neighborhood but that didn’t mean shit. Thieves would use any advantage to steal. Stunna could be a thief but he didn’t have to wait till he got here. Sure, he could steal the shit in your house but it was all insured. He’d have been better off stealing your wallet at the store.

You told him which ingredients to leave out for the enchiladas while you grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. You downed at least half of it. Stunna made you feel like you were standing on top of a hot vent.

He accepted his bottle and sat down at the bar stool, looking at you while you dug out pots and pans, cooking utensils, and your cutting board.

You talked about light subjects like your family, friends, and what he does for a living. He was a bit cagey about that part, so you assumed it was something bad. You weren’t trying to be judgemental but you could not see his sexy ass saying, “Yes, Sir. No, Sir”, at an office job like your husband.

You put the chicken on to boil and started prepping the veggies for the salad on the cutting board. Yes, he judged the hell out of how you sliced them.

“I’m trying to make you a nice lunch,” you said.

“I know! I’m just saying, you could slice them faster and more evenly,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to help me with the meal too!”

He chuckled. “I don’t mind. Can I show you?” He asked.

You gave him a playful look to know that you were mad at him but with no real heat. “Fine, since you know everything,” you said.

He got up from the stool and came around the kitchen island. He washed his hands in the sink and then took the knife from you. “Aight, so if you hold it like this and the tomato like this, boom,” he said. He focused on the task, blowing through the tomato like butter.

“Wait, how’d you do that?” You asked. He chuckled and grabbed another one, going slower and showing you how to do what he did. He grabbed the last one and let you do it. You made one slice and he made a noise like a game buzzer.

“May I?” He asked.

You really shouldn’t. But your head was nodding anyway. He stood behind you and you closed your eyes briefly. He was so strong and solid behind you. He leaned down so he could bring his hands on top of yours. He showed you how to hold the knife and tomato and how to make the same cuts he did.

He helped you with the first few slices and then left you to make the next ones by yourself. He didn’t move from behind you as you moved through cutting it, chopping it up like a professional chef.

“I did it!” You said. You giggled and danced, shaking your ass on his crotch until you realized what you did and stopped.

“I am so sorry!” You said. You flipped around in his arms and he titled his head at you.

“I’m not,” he said with a slow grin.

“Stunna, now you know…”

“I know that you seem a little lonely. Forgive my bluntness, but shit, this whole house to yourself every day and all you do is cook and clean?”

“I take care of my family,” you said defensively.

“I know. But who take care of you? Shit on the outside, it look like yo husband forgot what a baddie he got for a wife,” he said. “I wouldn’t ever forget.”

He used his fingers to lift your chin up and forced you to look at him. “Stunna, I’m married,” you said. You said it like it was a piece of armor you drew around yourself. Those two words would stop even the most persistent of men.

“Mhm, yet you here with me,” he said.

“I got kids,” you said.

“They little asses still in school, ain’t they? I’m great with kids,” he said.

You giggled. “You are so bad.”

He grinned, flashing you the grills. He was dangerous. Likely some type of criminal. A veritable hood rat that chased skirts and smoked all day. The complete opposite of your straight-laced husband who got pissy if his tie didn't match his shirt.

“I can be worse,” he said. He put his hands on the countertop on either side of you. He placed a kiss against your neck, breathing in your scent. You wore your favorite lotion and were glad you did.

“Let me be bad and take care of you for once,” he whispered against your skin. “Don’t you deserve it? Don’t you deserve to feel good?” He moved his lips to the other side of your neck. You leaned your head back, letting out a soft moan.

If he kissed you, you’d cum on the spot. That’s how needy you were. How desperate and starved for affection.

“Stunna, are you serious?” You asked.

“Hell yeah. See, the why I see it? This ain’t you, mama. You need some relief. I can be that,” he said.

“Even though…”

“Hear me when I say that I don’t give a flying fuck about your husband. I don’t give a shit that you’re a mom. I see a fine ass woman with a banging body that I wanna put on this table and taste her. Eat her for lunch,” he whispered in your ear. The force of his words were like tiny arrows shooting you with desire.

You leaned back so that you could look him in the eyes. “Do it. I want that,” you said.

Stunna turned and lowered the heat on the chicken. Then, he grabbed your hand and led you to the dining table. He intuitively moved to the head of the table. You went to loosen the tie at your waist, but he slapped your hand away.

He brought his lips to yours and you let him. You let him kiss you and opened your mouth to run your tongue against his. He moaned and kissed you deeper, rougher. He knew without you having to say what you needed.

He pulled the tie at your waist, letting your lounge pants slip off of your hips and down to the floor. Shit!

You pulled away from him and tried to hide your hideous granny panties. He pulled your hands away. “Think this scare me away?” He asked.

You nodded but you couldn’t look him in the eye. How the hell were you supposed to be sexy while wearing these atrocities? To be fair, you weren’t expecting sex today. Your husband was on a project that sucked up all of his time and attention.

“Naw. Just makes you sexier to me. Move them hands,” he said.

You bit your lip and shook your head. There was no way you could continue after looking so gross.

Stunna leaned down and kissed your ear. “If I gotta move ‘em, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he said.

Shit, that only turned you on. You lowered your hands and finally looked at him. “That’s right. Be a damn good girl for me and take them sexy panties off,” he said.

Your fingers shook as you lowered your panties. Cool air brushed along your skin but did little to cool you off. There was a roaring fire of desire burning through your veins and you hadn’t even done anything. Hadn’t done more than kiss and take off your clothes.

“Shirt too,” he said. He grabbed you by the waist and picked you up, sitting you down on the table. You yelped from the cold surface, making him grin.

You plucked off the T-shirt. Your bra was just as plain and ratty. All the cute bra and panty sets in your drawer and this was what you wore when you finally got some. The situation would be funny if it weren’t so embarrassing. Stunna truly didn’t seem to mind as you took off your bra.

His eyes lit up as he looked at your titties. He sat down in your husband’s seat and palmed your breasts, running his fingers over your sensitive nipples. You moaned, arching your back so that he could get a better angle.

He leaned forward and brought his lips to your left nipple, flicking his tongue over it. He latched on, suckling it into his mouth and you cried out from the pressure and bite of pain. Endorphins rushed through your system, making you squirm on the table. You were so wet.

He massaged your titties as he suckled. He moved on to your right nipple, suckling on it and moaning as if he were getting pleasure from this too. It wasn’t a chore. He wanted to touch you, taste you.

“Shit,” you moaned.

As he switched sides once more, he brought his hand down to cup your pussy. You jerked off of the table and he cooed. “Hmm, nice and creamy already. Love me a creamy girl. You got some more for me?”

He slowly worked his fingers past your pussy lips. He gathered up your essence at your entrance and used it to circle and tease your clit. You brought one of your hands up to his shoulder to push at him.

“What I tell you about them hands, gorgeous?” He asked.

“But…”

He bit your nipple and you cried out from the sting. “Uh-uh, do what Daddy tell you to.”

Fuck. You came on his fingers already, thighs twitching and brain tingling. You moaned throughout it, that sweet relief everything you needed. Relief that didn’t come from your own two fingers or a sex toy was somehow more intense. More visceral.

You bit your lip and looked at him. He watched you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Needed that shit, didn’t you?” He asked.

You didn’t trust your voice. You nodded shyly. Ugh! You hated this! You did not land your husband being this timid woman who was too afraid to even moan during sex. You enjoyed the hell out of it. You enjoyed the hell out of it with your husband. But once you got pregnant, he knew he needed to step up. Grinding for you became more important than grinding in you.

A pang of shame hit you. You allowed another man to touch you. You swiftly kicked that bit of shame to the back of your mind. This wasn’t about emotions or starting anything. This was something nasty to get out of your system. The last hurrah you never got because you were pregnant when your husband proposed. You never got a wild bachelorette party with strippers and dick straws.

“Spread them legs,” he commanded.

You grinned slowly. You opened your legs and gave him a sultry look. The look of surprise on his face was priceless. You were just a little rusty. You knew how to throw down.

“You so fuckin’ sexy. Spread open for me,” he said. He licked his fingers, licking away your arousal. He moaned and closed his eyes, savoring your taste. “Sweet, just like you.”

He grabbed your thighs and opened them wider. He rubbed his big nose in between your folds. His tongue lapped at your entrance. His moans got higher as he tasted you in earnest.

“Oh shit! Oh fuck! Shit!” You moaned. His tongue felt like exactly how you pictured heaven. Eternal spring, warm sun, soft grass to sink your toes into. Your thighs pushed in ready to trap his face but his warm hands pushed them out. Pushed them away. Kept your legs open for him to lick and suck and tease your clit.

He made out with your pussy. Licking you and then following behind by his lips to lap up whatever you leaked out. Your thighs quivered at the attention and care. At the total devotion to getting you off. You cried and whined until you were plunging head first into another orgasm. One that rocked you down to your core.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. You looked down and he was still lapping at your juices. You glitched every time his tongue swiped your sensitive clit. He stopped and retreated from your pussy, a long spit chain still connecting you both. His beard was glistening with your arousal and you moaned, loving the picture before you.

He licked his lips, breaking the chain. “Damn girl. Creamy as fuckin’ hell,” he said.

You licked your own lips. Needing a double dose of him. You leaned forward and reached for his pants. He stopped you. “Use your words,” he said.

“I need you. I wanna taste you, too,” you said.

He gripped your chin and brought you closer. And he wanted to kiss you after eating you out?!

His lips were puckered and wet. His beard tickled your chin as he kissed you. This wasn’t just a kiss. It was like he wanted to share your essence with you. Like he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue and get a glimpse of what he did when he was between your thighs.

You did taste yourself and it was so damn hot. You smelled yourself all over him. His tongue explored your mouth. Your kisses were loud and sloppy. Lazy and slow, so at odds with how intense this man had been so far.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, trying to unbutton his shirt or slip it over his head. You needed him naked too. You needed to see all of him. “There’s that little nasty freak. I knew she was in there,” he said against your lips.

“Pants. Off. Now,” you said.

He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. He made quick work of his pants dropping them down just enough to expose his long, thick dick. Veins stood out against the shaft and drool threatened to spill out of your mouth.

You wanted to see more. You pulled at his shirt and he laughed again. “Do I need to tie those hands up? ‘Cause you don’t know how to listen,” he said.

“I wanna see all of you,” you said.

“Naw, today’s about you,” he said. He tilted his head and grabbed his dick, stroking a few times as he looked at your dripping pussy.

“‘Bout you getting what you so obviously deserve.” He slapped his dick against your pussy. Your eyes rolled back. You lost track of how many orgasms he handed out. You should be tired. You should be too wrung out to do anything more.

But you were hungry for him. Desperate for that long dick to deliver the strokes you sorely miss. Need.

“Today’s about getting you back to normal. To remind you that you’re fuckin’ gorgeous. That you shouldn’t go a day without getting filled up and fucked,” he said.

“Oh god. Fuck,” you moaned.

He slowly worked his way into your pussy. You moaned, crying out at just how big he was. How deep he was already and he hadn’t bottomed out yet.

“Ouue, shit. Hear this pussy talkin’?” He asked.

“Unf, yesss,” you moaned.

“You hear it? You should be hearing that every night,” he said. He wet his dick with your arousal and your toes curled as he finally settled himself in your wet heat.

“Fuck. Flip over ‘cause you don’t know how to behave,” he said.

“I can behave,” you said and poked your bottom lip out.

He grinned, those golds transforming him from hot to smoldering. He kissed you with a loud smack. “You can’t even listen when Daddy tell you do something. Flip that ass over,” he said.

You whined playfully as he slipped out. You let your wobbly legs down onto the floor and then turned around. He moved your hips until he lined you up where he wanted you. He lifted your left leg to hug the table and pressed down on your back until you were flush against the surface.

He smacked your ass. The loud sound and pain made you cry out. “Show me how you got them kids,” he said.

“Fuuuck,” you moaned.

He rammed his dick back inside you and you gasped. He stayed there, buried inside you while you adjusted to his girth and length. “Oue, shit. Fuuuck, you’re so big Daddy,” you moaned. You shook your ass on his dick.

He placed his hands on your hips but made no further movements. You began to move, rocking back on his dick, showing him exactly how you got your kids. You slammed down on him how you liked. Rough. Hard. It wasn’t difficult to do since his dick was so big. You had so much to work with.

“Ohhh, you like this dick,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy, I like it,” you said. Hell, you had no room to lie. Even working yourself desperately on his dick like this, you were having the time of your fucking life.

He chuckled and then started stroking. “Oh shit,” you said, a hint of panic creeping into your voice. You thought you were doing a little something. Arching your back and bouncing your ass on his dick.

But Stunna? Stunna was a different breed. He gave it to you exactly how you needed. He rutted inside of you, slamming you back on his dick with enough force to rob you of air. Rob you of thought. You were able to turn your brain off and enjoy getting filled up.

“You still like that shit?” He asked.

“Ahm,” you moaned. You couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t do anything but accept this deep, rough fucking. He moved his hands to your lower back and switched up his strokes. He moved deeper, his strokes longer. His thighs slapped against your ass loud enough to be mistaken for fireworks or a gunshot.

You laid your cheek against the table and let your body take over for you. Your body knew exactly what to do. Your pussy gripped him and he moaned low in his throat.

“I need that last one, mama. Gimme that last one,” he said.

“I…can’t…” You said.

“Sure you can. Gripping me so pretty. You almost there. You almost there, I can feel it. I can feel how much you need it. Let it go, mama. Let it go,” he said. His voice grew quieter as he talked.

The pressure in your lower belly was unbearable. You whined, knowing you were on the edge. You didn’t know what you needed but you were too far gone to name it. Claim it. To let him know.

Stunna’s hands roamed up your back until one of his hands was gripping the back of your neck. He squeezed and you gasped at the new angle. He got deeper, the tip of him kissing the very heart of you.

You exploded with a loud shriek, squeezing him and cumming with the power of a thousand suns. You shook and twitched on the table, flopping around. You were too lost to consider how crazy you looked.

“Gahh damn,” he moaned. He moved his hips rougher and faster until he slammed into you and shouted, unloaded a huge load into you.

“Sheeeeit,” you moaned. His cum painted your insides. Some of him slipped out around his dick and dropped down to your clit and likely landed on the table.

“Fuck, mama. That was fuckin’ sexy,” he said. He slowly pulled out and you felt the rush of his cum leak out. Good fucking thing you were still on birth control. The last thing, the absolute last thing you needed was to turn up pregnant with another man’s baby. Good luck explaining that to your husband.

You were still glitching on the table. So thoroughly fucked out that you couldn’t move yet. Didn’t want to move.

Stunna rubbed your back and then your booty. He gave you a booty massage while he watched his cum spill out of you.

The smell of chicken finally invaded your senses. “Food,” you said.

“Don’t worry, mama. You focus on getting your strength back,” he said. He zipped himself back up and then washed his hands. He turned off the stove and then heated up the pan. You listened and saw his back as he moved around your kitchen, cooking food for your family.

He fried up the shells, dipped it in the sauce and then rolled it on the pan with chicken and cheese. Done, he put some seasoning on top followed by more cheese. He put it in the oven and set a timer.

This. This was what you thought married life would be like. Getting your guts rearranged and cooking food together. Laughing together. Playing together.

Stunna came back around to check on you. He grinned and leaned on the table to kiss you. You were still in the same position he left you in. Fucked out and blissed out.

“Why don’t you go shower and I’ll watch the food. Should be done by the time you get out,” he said.

“How are you…”

“I see somethin’ I want, I want it. Let a real nigga show you how to appreciate the mother to his kids,” he said. He kissed you again and rubbed on your booty. “Now get your sexy ass upstairs before you’re late picking up your kids,” he said.

He helped you to your feet, proud of himself. Bastard. You picked up your clothes but Stunna stopped you from putting them on.

“I wanna see that ass jiggle up the stairs,” he said.

“I can’t stand you!” You said and giggled, wiggling your ass for him. You swayed your hips. A new energy suffusing you as you did so. You walked up to your room and showered, feeling nasty and like a woman again. Like you were more than a glorified maid and cook.

Done with your shower, you came downstairs. Stunna was on his phone, sitting at the table like he didn’t fuck you senseless thirty minutes ago. When you came back in with cuter panties this time, black leggings, and a red T-shirt, Stunna whistled like you were walking around in lingerie.

“Sexy ass. Getting fucked look good on you,” he said.

“Shut up!” You giggled. The enchiladas were cooling on the counter top. It smelled divine. You grabbed a plate and handed it to him, sitting down next to him. “Not really mines since you ended up finishing it,” you said.

“You not gon’ have none?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I’ll have some later. My schedule kinda lines up with the twins. I eat when they do,” you said.

Stunna pushed the plate towards you, holding out the fork. “Eat,” he said.

“I’m fine,” you said.

“Do I need to feed you?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes and took the fork from him. Nasty ass. If he fed you, you’d be late to pick up your kids. You ate a bite and moaned at the taste. His style was similar to yours but food made by other people tasted so much better.

You ate half and pushed the other half to him. He chuckled. “Aight, but next time you’re eating all of it. Gotta take care of yourself too,” he said.

“Oh, next time? That’s bold,” you said.

He ate and shrugged his shoulders. “You ain’t telling me no,” he said.

You rolled your eyes again. You laughed and giggled your way during his meal. He finished and you washed the plate. Dishes were your least favorite chore so you made sure to do it as soon as possible. To avoid it getting gross. And yes, a little bit of you wanted no reminder of him here.

Stunna came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He dropped his head to your shoulder. “Give me your number. I won’t cause a scene. I just wanna be in your life,” he said.

“Stunna, we can’t. This was fun,” you said.

“More than fun.” He lifted your chin with his fingers and looked in your eyes. “You feel something here. We work well together. However you’ll have me,” he said.

You bit your lip. You wrestled with the decision. He already knew where you lived. What was your number on top of that?

Your alarm went off. Your first reminder that you needed to get going to arrive at pick up early. You jerked away from Stunna, grabbing your phone off of the counter and silencing it. Stunna watched you as you thought through your options.

“Giving you my number is like…agreeing to keep doing this,” you said.

“I ain’t gon’ pressure you for nothin’ you don’t wanna give. This can be whatever you want. But I saw your face when I was in that pussy. And it’s obvious your husband been neglecting you. Use me,” he said.

He slowly walked over to you. He took the phone from your hands and started tapping away. “Use me whenever your hands don’t do nearly as good a job as me,” he said.

You sighed and grinned. “Nasty ass,” you said.

“I’ma dip. But use that number.” He gave you a last, scorching kiss and then let himself out of your house.

You stared at the door, long after he was gone until your second alarm went off. You silenced it and made sure the stove was off. You left the house to pick up Noah and Naomi, listened to their excited chatter about school and what they learned.

You descended into “mom mode” as you fell into your normal routine. Get them home, homework done, washed up, and ready for dinner. Your husband made a rare appearance for once kissing you on the cheek and the kids on the head.

“Did you try something different?”

“Huh?” You asked, looking up from your dinner.

“Did you try something different with the enchiladas? It tastes different, but delicious like always, babe,” he said.

You stared at the table, picturing all the nasty shit you did there. How Stunna not only handled you, he also handled dinner. You sipped your water since your mouth went dry. The flashbacks were vicious.

“Saw something online that I wanted to try. You like it?” You asked.

“Mhm,” your husband said.

You hid your smile by eating more of the food and wondered when you could get Stunna back over.

The Secret Big Stunna Files...in case you needed a little more in your life.

Part 2

283 notes · View notes

jina1028 · 1 month

Text

Helping Hand

Yunho x fem!reader

Categories: roommates!au, smut, masturbation (fem), sex toys, fingering, oral (f rec), vaginal penetration, non protected sex (don't do this irl), creampie, Yunho has a big dick

You just got home from a "couples date" that your friend insisted so much you took part in because "Come on, you're single, I think I like him but it would be less awkward if there's someone with me, and he has a single friend as well who's looking for a partner... Pleaseeee". Your friend begged until you reluctantly agreed, how bad could it be if you faked a little interest during the dinner and then parted ways forever after?

You thought you could do this sacrifice for her but you couldn't imagine the dickhead that would be your "date". He introduced himself looking between your eyes and your tits, he talked about how he wanted a woman that could settle down giving up her career if she happened to have one, because "men and women should have specific roles in society, they should think about cleaning home and raising children" and complained about the difficulty of finding such women nowadays, to which you thought you had an idea why he was single. For the sake of your friendship you bit your tongue everytime he said something stupid and your friend would nudge you in the ribs to warn you.

She later apologized, saying she had no idea he would be such a moron, but that still left you bitter. If he wasn't the man of your life you could still find someone nice to spend lonely nights with, to satisfy you sexually at least, but he wasn't even worth sharing your name with in your opinion.

You huffed closing the door of your apartment and kicking off your heels. Your roommate, Yunho, said he was going out with friends that night so that meant you were home alone for a while. You called his name to make sure and waited in silence for a second, no response.

You strolled to the bathroom to take a nice shower and get ready for bed. When you finally layed in bed though you felt the need to steam off your frustration so you closed your eyes and dipped your hand inside your panties, starting to draw slow circles on your clit, your wetness soon starting to collect between your folds, helping in your task to get off. But it still wasn't enough so you reached for the drawer of your nightstand looking for your vibrator, still massaging your slick clit with the other hand. You found it right away and turned it on at a low setting, resting it on your swollen clit. You let out a whimper at the feeling, thanking the fact that Yunho was still out.

Yunho. He entered your mind in that moment. You actually always thought your roommate was attractive but never wanted to take the risk of ruining your relationship with him, it would be awkward if he turned you down. So you settled for simple glances whenever he showed some more skin or laying next to him on the sofa watching TV, gladly accepting his absentminded caresses on your calves or little innocent squeezes of his large hand on your thigh when you sat crosslegged next to him focused on some action movie. You actually thought Yunho was hot, with his deep but soft voice, his tall figure and broad shoulders, and his funny and sweet personality.

Your mind began spiralling with thoughts of Yunho and what you would do to him, setting the vibrator on a higher speed, little moans and whimpers slipping from your throat, until your orgasm washed over you, your thighs clasped together, short breaths leaving your mouth, your heart racing.

You took just the time to clean up and went to sleep feeling much lighter.

That night you dreamt about Yunho.

The next morning you were woken up by a knock on your bedroom door, Yunho's voice calling your name "Wake up, I brought breakfast from our favorite cafe" he sang from outside the door. You stretched, yawning and groggily getting up from bed, reaching for the door handle and pulling the door open. You were met with a broad chest in a lopsided oversize t-shirt and a sweet tight lipped smile on your roommate's face. You startled a little, making him laugh while he took your wrist and excorted you to the table where sat a cream filled pastry and a hot cappuccino waiting for you, along with his own breakfast.

"Sorry I scared you, I was just about to peer inside to check if you were still sleeping when you opened the door and found me there".

"It's ok, I'll let it slide this one time just because I really love this pastry" you joked before biting said pastry and taking a sip of cappuccino from your cup.

"Ahh thank you for your magnanimity" Yunho exaggerated his bow leaning with his forehead on the table and clasping his hands together above his head, at which you snorted, almost sending your chewed bite to the wrong side of your pipe.

"So how was your date?" he inquired while you gulped some water to make sure not to suffocate yourself.

"It went so bad I actually have no words, he was a real moron" you started, recalling the worst, most memorable sentences you had to hear the night before, Yunho reacting as theatrically as he could, seeing how much you were involved in your storytelling to try and lighten your mood and succeeding.

"When did you come back last night? I didn't hear you, maybe I was asleep" you asked wanting to change the topic of your conversation.

"Oh..." he hesitated, averting his eyes from your face, a light hue of pink tingeing his ears "I stayed home and played a bit on my PC, the guys cancelled our plans last minute."

You felt your blood draining from your face "Were... were you wearing your headset? You didn't hear me come home?" You tried to act nonchalant, like nothing happened in your room, looking casually inside your cup while sloshing the liquid around, missing the way Yunho gazed at you, a little smile threatening to manifest on his lips. "I did hear you come" he answered, his gaze finally locking with yours.

You tried to clear your throat and come up with something to say but suddenly you felt so self concious, your now red face and burning cheeks, your trembling voice, wide eyes, lip biting, how much did Yunho hear? Your brain short circuited, then Yunho said the least expected "Want me to help you next time?"

Did you hear that right? Was he serious? Was he trying to make fun of you? He liked to joke around, yeah, but he would never try to embarrass you like that, would he?

Seeing you struggle with whatever was going on in your head Yunho decided to make a move and rested his hand on yours on the table "Tell me if I'm wrong and we'll pretend like this conversation never happened if you want to, but I think I saw some signals from you all this time... And I honestly think you're hot and I was kinda jealous every time you went out for a date, and even more when you would send me a text telling me you were staying out the night and not to worry about you. I wished it were me you were spending those nights with." he confessed lowering his voice on the last part.

This couldn't be a joke, you were sure now, so you decided to be bolder and answer to his previous question with a question of your own "What if I told you I need your help right now?"

Yunho smirked standing up from his seat and approaching you, bending down to brush his lips on your ear while purring "I'll never deny you a helping hand."

Your lids fluttered closed while he carefully caressed your cheek. You followed the movement of his hand chasing it with your lips to softly kiss the tips of his fingers. Yunho took advantage of that movement to move his lips from your ear to tour jaw and to your neck, leaving a trail of feather like kisses, the little hairs on your neck standing up from the shivers that traveled down your spine, a little gasp escaping your mouth. He brought his hands to your waist, squeezing and pulling a little soliciting you to lift up. When you did he attached his lips to yours, inhaling your smell deeply through his nose. He started walking you backwards towards your bedroom, pulling and biting your bottom lip, slipping his tongue in your mouth. You weren't caught off guard though and took the opportunity to suckle on his tongue, sending a shiver directly to his cock, making him groan as he pressed you to your bedroom door. You could feel his boner rubbing on your hip while he fumbled with the door handle. You stumbled to your bed pulling Yunho down with you, still kissing and playing with his tongue. Your hands went to his hair on the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his dark locks and pushing him to deepen the kiss. When he pulled away for air he stood on his knees to get rid of his t-shirt and with your approval he helped you strip too, pulling up your pajama shirt and letting out a little gasp and a curse under his breath when he found out you weren't wearing a bra. He attacked your neck sucking and biting, while lightly grazing your breasts and nipples with one hand and pressing his knee between your legs, rubbing your clit and eliciting a moan from you.

"Do it again" he groaned, doing the same motion to earn another sound from you. He suddenly felt greedy, wanting to hear more sounds, so he made you lift your hips to remove your pants, being greeted by a wet patch staining your panties, sticking and outlining your pretty pussy, not leaving much to Yunho's imagination. He was in heaven, finally being able to be the source of your pleasure, if it depended on him you wouldn't have needed to get off on your vibrator anymore, he wanted to be the only reason for your beautiful moans. He buried his nose in your clothed pussy and nudged your clit, wanting to hear more of your sounds, pulling your panties to the side, slipping his fingers through your folds and experimentally pushing one digit inside. Your little moans turned to whimpers and sobs when he inserted a second finger and curled them up, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, his mouth latched to your clit, suckling.

"Yunho, stop teasing and fuck me already" you lamented.

"Wow, not even a 'please' or 'thank you', so rude" he chuckled but nonetheless he detached from you to get rid of his pants and boxers, freeing his hard erection. You ogled at it with big eyes, never having seen anything like that in real life, long, girthy, veiny, slightly curved up and already leaking precum, it looked delicious.

Yunho peeled your panties off, impatient to stuff your pussy with his cock when he remembered "Wait, I don't have a condom".

"I'm clean and on birth control" you reassured him, impatience taking the best of you.

"I'm clean too. So do I really get to fuck you raw?" he beamed.

"I'm waiting" you urged him, to which he launched himself on top of you, kissing and biting your neck, grinding his hips into yours, mixing your slick with his precum.

When he finally pushed inside he had to go slow because of his size, in order for you to adjust. Both of you groaning with every little push until he bottomed out, resting on top of you until you gave him permission to start moving. You were ecstatic, every time he thrusted back inside it felt like he filled you more and more, and his pace was just perfect, hard enough but not so much to hurt you, fucking you so good. You thought so until he lifted your legs hooking them in his elbows, his hands pressed to the mattress on your sides, pistoning in long, smooth motions, hitting your clit with his pelvis with every move, perfectly angled to reach your g-spot. That's when you felt like you were living an out of body experience, you were transcending reality.

Yunho tried to stay quiet in order to listen to your every grunt and moan, allowing himself to only let out little groans and huffs, until he felt your walls contracting again and again on his cock, splurting clear liquid around him and on the sheets, urging him to reach his own climax and making him come hard inside of you with a deep growl, spilling and spilling, pulsing and twitching until with a last roll of his hips he stilled, then finally let go of your legs, rolling off of you to collapse on your side, panting hard.

Both of you stayed like that for a minute, spent and sweaty, catching your breaths. You finally rolled on your side intertwining your legs with his, smiling up at him "I think I'll need your help pretty often from now on"

Yunho smiled back at you, kissing your nose "I was hoping for 'every day', but 'pretty often' is ok too."

#kpop smut #ateez smut #fanfic #yunho smut #yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #smut

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luminoustarlight · 6 months

Text

Leo Campo is a romantic. He’s a ladies man until he finds the one, but you better believe he treats every woman he’s ever hooked up with like they’re his world. He’s just an affectionate guy. Call it a symptom of being Italian. Pet-names roll off of his tongue smoothly, always punctuated with a little smirk.

“Can I get you anything else, sweetheart?” He’ll ask the unsuspecting girl at the bar.

The most frequent reply is “just your number,” which has definitely gotten old. He doesn’t actually give it out; he just takes them upstairs and gives them something better.

He’s a tender lover, always attentive to the needs of the woman he’s pleasuring. And the women are always satisfied.

Between the adoring nicknames and innate ability to make a woman cum three times before he cums himself, many girls begin hoping for something more than a one night stand. All of it offers them a false sense of the possibility of a relationship. Because how can a man be so sweet and not want something more?

Because Leo Campo is certain he’ll know the love of his life when he sees her. Maybe she walks into the bar, maybe he meets her while he’s coaching soccer.

Or, in your case, at your apartment where he’s delivering pizza.

If only you’d known how handsome the pizza delivery guy was going to be, you would’ve bothered to clean the smeared mascara from your eyes. You wouldn’t have answered the door with an oversized t shirt hanging off one of your shoulders, no bra to hold up your goods, and an old pair of sweatpants you’ve had since college.

“Oh my God,” slips out of your mouth. Your first instinct is to slam the door. Your tongue feels dry and your broken heart hasn’t forgotten how to hammer in your chest. Breakups happen every day. It’s okay that you look like a hot mess, minus the hot part.

You’ve ordered pizza from Vince’s dozens of times and that Jogi kid always delivers your pizza.

Who is this tall, dark-haired man with a smile that makes you think maybe you won’t feel miserable forever?

“How ya doin’?” He asks you, clearly not taking in any context clues as to how your night is going.

“Uh,” you begin unsurely. Are you really about to have a conversation with this guy in a pair of sweatpants with a guacamole stain on the right thigh? “I’ve been better. Hence the absolute atrocity standing before you.”

“Where?” He smiles without missing a beat. Because somewhere beneath your disheveled appearance, he sees a girl he desperately wants to get to know. Who broke your heart? And how does he mend it?

“I don’t suspect you have anyone to share this pizza with?”

“Not as of 8:16 this morning.” Yes, you know the exact minute you found your piece of shit ex-boyfriend cheating on you with his co-worker.

“Well, as of,” Leo checks his watch, “7:24 this evening, now you do.”

“You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Aren’t you working?”

He shrugs. “It’s the end of my shift. Are you going to let me in?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Is this the beginning of a Dateline episode?”

This makes Leo chuckle. Of course you’re tentative. You’re an attractive, single woman who has no right trusting any man at all, let alone a random pizza delivery guy.

But there’s something about his smile that quells your anxiety. No ulterior motives, just genuine kindness.

“I can call my Ma, if you want,” Leo suggests half seriously. “You can talk to her and learn everything about me.”

Your bottom lip snags beneath your teeth as you open your door to let the handsome stranger in. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Leo.” He sets down your pizza on the coffee table. “Leo Campo.”

requests are open for leo and several other hayden characters!

anakin masterlist

#leo campo x reader #leo campo x you #leo campo fanfiction #leo campo #little italy movie #leo campo one shot #leo campo smut #leo campo imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x you

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feeder86 · 11 months

Text

The Girlfriend’s Boyfriend

College had hit Ant hard. He had never been academic, like his parents and, if he was completely honest with himself, he should have pushed harder against them when they had insisted that going there was the best option for him. With two older siblings, now settled in good careers, Ant’s mediocre degree was never going to get him particularly far in the world of work. Partly, it was his own fault. Having felt that he’d been shoehorned into a course that he had very little interest in, the teenage rebel had emerged from within him. He’d partied hard and decided that he wasn’t going to take anything too seriously. He’d had three years of beer, sex and good times; emerging from the experience a somewhat changed person.

At 6’5, Ant now felt clumsy in his work dress pants and shirt. He’d noticed his lifestyle starting to catch up with him by the start of the third year and he now tutted at his reflection as he looked in the mirror. If only he could afford better shirts, he wouldn’t have to put up with the way these ones clung to his small lovehandles and gently curved nature of his middle. He certainly wasn’t fat by any stretch of the imagination, but he was still a good thirty pounds away from the athletic physique he had once had; the six pack he’d acquired through hours of extra-curricular sports in high school, now very much buried under a stubborn little paunch. Ant was only twenty-two and already the dadbod had found him.

Perhaps it was his height that made it so noticeable. He’d been tall, and almost lanky, his entire life. Even now, his face, his arms and chest, didn’t look any different. Yet, that infuriating little paunch had sprouted from his center and his rear had thickened into something a lot more meaty and protrusive than he had ever been used to; like his body was pushing out in both directions simultaneously.

Getting dates wasn’t as easy as it had once been. College had been an easy time to pick up girls, as well as the occasional guy. It was only now that he realised that real life didn’t resemble the college campus, even a tiny bit. He struck out on his own, renting a miniscule apartment in the city, hoping that he could acquire some semblance of the fun times he was used to, away from his parents. However, money was tight now his family weren’t funding him and Ant had come to accept that he was only really going to be able to go out once a week or so.

Even so, staring at his reflection as he was now, Ant knew that he would have to divert some of his salary towards a gym subscription. He’d noticed women starting to stare at his more bloated midsection, right before they turned him down. He fussed with his tie, trying to see if the way it fell helped to conceal anything at all. It didn’t.

“You’ve got to go,” he said aloud to his little paunch, turning to the side and cringing as he realised how obviously it was pushing out. It was time to whip himself into shape.

It didn’t take long for Ant to recognise that he had seriously overestimated his own fitness. Swinging his legs on the crosstrainer, he had never felt more sweaty in his entire life. He took large mouthfuls of water until he made himself feel dizzy and nauseous. Then he sat back on the bench, catching his breath, no longer caring that his soaking t-shirt clung so unflattering his thick, rounded tummy.

That was the moment when she walked in; a beautiful, toned and outstandingly attractive woman of Ant’s age. Her butt was pert and well-shaped, captivating Ant’s attention immediately. She glanced in his direction, making Ant sit up immediately and try to suck in his paunch, whilst controling his breathing so that he looked natural. It must have worked as well, for the girl smiled at him before strutting over to the cross trainer. She glanced back again. Another smile; this time even broader. Was Ant really in with a shot?

Wasting no time, Ant went straight over and began making small talk, going at a very slow pace on the cross trainer next to the girl, whose name he soon discovered to be Bryony. He tried his best to summon his old college bravado and confidence with the ladies, even though he knew he was far from his prime. However, it seemed like he hardly even needed to try. Bryony laughed at all of his lame jokes and showed an interest in everything he had to say. Suddenly, Ant had gone from feeling like the biggest loser, to the guy other men were looking at with jealousy.

“You’re such a cutie,” Bryony smiled at him as she was wrapping up the workout that she had made seem entirely effortless. “Do you want to come shower with me? We can soap each other up…” she grinned suggestively.

Ant felt like all of his luck had come at once. Never in his whole life had he ever imagined getting hit on by a girl like this before. She held out her hand and led him into the ladies, where she locked the door, assuring him that they would not be disturbed at this time in the evening. Then, she seductvely undressed herself with a confidence in her body that Ant was unable to match. However, as he removed his shirt and revealed his little doughy middle, Bryony moaned in pleasure regardless; strapping her hands onto his lovehandles and pulling him in. Then, what followed next was pure heaven.

Bryony had explained in detail, even before they’d had sex, that she wasn’t the type of girl to be tied down. She had a few guys she liked to keep in her pocket, all with a variety of traits that she found attractive.

“So, what is it that you like about me?” Ant asked, pulling his shirt back on and still in shock that he’d actually got lucky with a girl like this.

“I love the dadbod look,” Bryony shot back without shame. “Cute little beer belly, bubble butt. You’ve got it all.”

Ant tried not to be taken aback. “Thanks…” he mumbled, trying to take it as a compliment, despite his very real instinct to feel insulted.

“You want to do this again sometime?” Bryony asked with a smile. “Not here though,” she stated assertively. “The gym’s not for guys like you,” she teased, rubbing Ant’s little paunch. “I don’t want you spoiling your look.”

Ant’s erection was bouncing back. He was ready to go again, even now. “Yes,” he nodded with absolute certainty. He’d walk over burning hot coals to have another session with Bryony. And so, he passed over his phone and let the most beautiful woman he had ever met enter her number.

“You’ve put on weight again,” Ant’s mother sighed, looking at her son as he came over for her birthday that summer. “What happened to you going to the gym?”

“It’s too expensive,” Ant grumbled. “Plus, I don’t think I need it. There are plenty of girls who dig this sort of look.”

Ant’s mother rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so, dear.”

But Ant smirked and helped himself to a huge slice of cake. His mother didn’t know about Bryony, but if she did, she’d know that she was entirely wrong about girl’s not liking a guy with a bit of a belly. Ever since he’d started sleeping with Bryony a few months ago, he’d never felt so satisfied in his life; in more ways that one. As a spoilt, trust-fund girl, Bryony was never short of money. Each time Ant went over, he was treated to beers and pizza that she’d get in just for him. She said it was part of what she found most attractive about Ant; his care-free attitude towards his diet and exercise; swooning at him as he guzzled all the beers, slobbed out on her sofa and effortlessly consumed every bit of takeout. Even as he gained another ten pounds… twenty pounds, the fact that he was sleeping with a girl like Bryony was a badge of honour that he wore like a shield around him, even as sly, thoughtless comments about his weight began to be thrown towards him by his friends and family.

As lucky as Ant felt in his current situation, he did have one slight niggle when it came to his fun times with Bryony. He’d long since stopped fantasising that he could ever tie the girl down and make her his. However, if they were just doing this for the sex, Ant wished she was a little more dominant. He’d fantasised about it over and over again: getting tied to the bed and ridden by her, whilst she fed him the large cream cakes that she seemed to get a strange kick out of seeing him enjoy.

Staring at himself as he emerged from the shower, Ant did what he usually avoided and took a long hard look at himself. From the chest up, he could fool himself into thinking that he was completely unaltered, But as water dripped from his deepening belly button, he couldn’t deny the ever increasing bloated shape of his middle. His pushed out paunch had started to create a fold along the top of his lovehandles, developing a shelf where his belly lunged forward, even appearing to harden slightly and feel less doughy than he had expected. He turned around and stared at the reason why his pants weren’t fitting anymore: the two puffy globes that had become his buttocks. Just what would his nineteen year old self think if he could see this right now? Still, nineteen year old Ant wasn’t fucking Bryony at least twice a week, so he was hardly losing in life. In fact, that horny nineteen year old Ant would still have swapped with him in a heartbeat.

Ant had been out with friends when he caught sight of Bryony. He felt like it was divine intervention, given how much teasing he’d had from his buddies about his weight gain. After only a couple of beers, his already distended gut was bloating and straining the buttons of his shirt, inviting pokes from all of the boys. Now, however, he could stroll back to the table with beautiful Bryony under his arm and show them all who he was actually fucking at the moment. That would show them.

“Hey,” he smiled, strolling over to the bar and tapping Bryony on her shoulder.

Bryony turned and smiled at him. However, as she did so, a large, muscular and possessive arm slid itself over her delicate shoulders. Ant looked across at a man, even taller than himself and easily more built and strapping than any other guy in the packed bar that night. “Who’s this?” the enormous man asked Bryony, who was clearly his date for the evening.

“This is Ant,” Bryony smiled, reaching her hand up and holding the man’s big paw, making clear to Ant where her loyalties lay that evening. “Ant, meet Danny.”

“Oh, this is Ant!” Danny smiled, looking Ant up and down as if everything suddenly made perfect sense. “This is your little side project?” he smirked at Bryony, who shushed him with embarrassment.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were busy,” Ant mumbled to Bryony, deciding he should leave now, considering how intimidatingly big Bryony’s other boyfriend was.

“Hey, Ant, stay there!” the large Danny shouted to him as he saw Ant turning to leave. “I’m getting you a beer.” He raised his hand and seemed to communicate what he wanted to the bar staff with only a simple nod of his head.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Ant shot back, trying to execute a graceful exit from this embarrassing situation. “I’m with my friends,” he pointed over to the corner that he wished he had never left.

Both Danny and Bryony looked over in the direction Ant was pointing, before Danny took the cold, frosty beer he had been handed by the bar staff and passed it over to Ant. “And now you’re with us,” Danny stated uncompromisingly.

Danny must have been something of a big deal around here, for he led them both to boothe that had been reserved for them in a quieter, more exclusive zone in the bar. Bryony slipped in first and Danny raised his hand politely for Ant to follow her next, before he sat his large, warm body down next, wedging Ant in like a prisoner; trapping him in place until he would eventually decide that Ant could go back to his friends.

“So, you’re fucking Bryony too?” Danny smiled, as if this situation was amusing and not eye-wateringly cringe-inducing.

Ant wanted the ground to swallow him up. Now that he was sitting next to Bryony’s date, the idea that Bryony would choose him over a strapping guy like Danny seemed utterly preposterous. “I guess you could say that,” he mumbled, making only fleeting eye contact with the enormous man.

“He’s cute,” Danny suddenly called across to Bryony. “I like him.”

Ant didn’t know where to look. Was Danny being sarcastic, or was this part of his game?

“Of course he is!” Bryony giggled back. “I don’t just fuck anyone, you know?”

Danny threw back his head and sank the fresh beer in his giant hand, before nodding to someone collecting bottles and silently ordering another. Then, as if to assert himself even more, he slipped his large hand over Ant’s shoulders and continued talking to him like he owned him entirely.

Ant tried not to misread the situation. This could still all end in him getting beaten up by a jealous lover if he started taking the wrong cues. Still, his heart was beating fast at the idea that Bryony’s other boyfriend was actually into him. It had been a couple of years since he’d had a threesome with another guy, but Danny’s looks and confident demeanor were exciting him in ways that he had never known before.

“How do you feel about us taking your little project home with us tonight?” Danny asked Bryony whilst simultaneously adjusting his crotch, as if a huge erection had suddenly filled it.

“Sure,” Bryony smiled; her eyes twinkling at Danny’s playfulness; clearly the quality that she most loved about him.

“What about you?” Danny grunted into Ant’s ear. “You wanns come back to my place? I should warn you though, I’m… I’m no gentle lover!”

Ant allowed himself to look Danny in the eyes. The offer was indeed genuine, and as he felt the big man’s hand slide onto his thigh, there was only ever one answer he was going to give. The big man stood and graciously waited for Ant to stand too. Then he took Bryony’s hand and led them both to the back door of the bar that Ant suddenly realised the man must have owned. All three of them then slipped into a chauffeur diven car, where their horny hands began exploring each other all the way back to Danny’s apartment.

“Let’s see what I’ve got in the refrigerator,” Danny growled as soon as the door closed and he’d ripped off his shirt to reveal his incredibly ripped torso. He began striding off to his kitchen area whilst an overexcited Bryony stumbled and kissed Ant erotically all the way to the couch.

“You’re in luck!” Danny cried, carrying an enormous double height cake towards them, decorated with the words, ‘Happy Birthday Mom’. He placed it down and popped open a beer for Ant.

“We’re not eating your mom’s birthday cake, are we?” Ant asked, imagining how much a cake like this had probably cost.

“Of course not,” Danny smirked. “You’re going to eat it.”

“But…” Ant began to protest.

“First rule of getting laid, my friend,” Danny cut him off straight away. “Always give the lady what she wants to see,” he nodded over at the horny Bryony who looked keen to watch her paunchy lover start to eat. She undid the last button on Ant’s shirt and spread the material out, revealing his fattened stomach. With that, Danny grabbed a handful of cake, smearing his hand across it like it was of no consequence at all. “Come on, buddy. It’s your time to shine,” he laughed, pressing his large fingers into Ant’s already gaping mouth, having just seen the size of Danny’s hardness, pushing against his designer pants.

Bryony moaned immediately and Danny chuckled, feeling Ant starting to suck the icing from his fingers. Onwards Danny went, taking handfuls and handfuls of cake and pressing it towards Ant, rubbing the icing onto his nose and smearing it across Ant’s swollen tummy. It was indeed an entirely bizarre situation, and yet, Ant had never felt more aroused in his life.

“You see, babe,” Danny nodded over to Bryony. “Your chubby boyfriend likes it.”

By the time they were making it into the bedroom, an overindulged Ant was more than pumped up ready for what was to come next. He’d never in his life been penetrated by a guy, yet there was now nothing he wanted more. He slid off his underwear and finally presented his naked, oversized rear just as he had been ordered to. He couldn’t deny that it felt more than a little uncomfortable to start with. However, with Bryony’s hand servicing his needs at the same time, Ant was soon climaxing with a force that he knew most people would never experience in their entire lives.

“I see Bryony’s gone already,” Danny chuckled, striding back into the bedroom the next morning, having just done a quick check of his apartment whilst completely naked. “She does that a lot. “I’ve never known a girl so good at sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

Ant groggily opened his eyes. The smell of sweet sugar filled his nostrils and he realised the icing that had decorated his body during their kinky threesome was now smeared aross the sheets. “I’m so sorry!” he gasped, feeling suddenly sticky and gross. “It’s everywhere!”

“Yeah, it is!” Danny laughed, starting to rub his dick and bring it back to life. “Last night was fucking hot, huh? I’ve never fucked one of Bryony’s boyfriends before.”

Ant looked over and smiled. “You enjoy fucking the competetion?” he joked. He could perhaps understand everything Danny had done last night, feeding and fucking Ant for Bryony’s thrill. Yet, Bryony was no longer even here and he was still coming onto him.

“I’ve ordered in some food for your breakfast,” the man smirked, jumping onto his bed and lying on his side; every one of his muscles popping beautifully. “You’re going to stay here and let me feed it all to you,” he teased, pulling with one arm around Ant’s hip to drag him effortlessly towards him, before gently teasing the chubby boy’s dick back to life.

“Oh, I am, am I?” Ant asked, feeling the blood rushing to his crotch. He’d never been fucked by someone before last night and in doing so, he felt like he had surrendered something to Danny that he could never get back. That thought in itself, was enough to get his stomach rumbling for whatever Danny wanted to put in it.

Ant felt different over thenext few days. Up until last week, he could never imagine anyone invading his thoughts as much as Bryony had. But was that because he hadn’t met Danny yet? The way Danny had taken charge and dominated him had been the stuff of his most elusive dreams. But, more than that, Danny was an open book who wasn’t afraid to say what he liked and what was turning him on.

Bryony, on the other hand, was an enigma, with an agenda that was almost unfathomable. She messaged Ant when she wanted him and never any more. Whereas Danny had messaged several times a day, keeping Ant hard all week with all of the kinky things he said he wanted to do to him when he saw him next.

“Bryony’s trying to fatten you up. You do realise that, don’t you?” Danny asked him the following weekend as they met up for a coffee. “That’s what she means when she calls you her ‘project.’”

“I figured something like that,” Ant nodded, taking a bite out of the muffin Danny had bought him.

“I saw the stretch marks on your stomach. She’s doing a pretty good job by the looks of things,” Danny grinned wickedly, leaning his head to the side, as if that gave him a better view of the rounded pot belly Ant was acquiring in his middle.

“A pretty good job,” Ant nodded, begrudgingly agreeing.

Danny raised his eyes, seemingly surprised by Ant’s response. “Do you think I could do a better job?”

Ant knew he wouldn’t be standing up any time soon, and that was just as well. What was it about Danny that just got him so incredibly aroused? “Maybe,” he replied coyly, not quite understanding why this whole scenario was turning him on so much.

“Maybe,” Danny chuckled, repeating Ant’s response back to himself. He shook his head, as if insulted that Ant hadn’t agreed with him. “Do you even have any comprehension of how many calories I pushed down your throat the other night with that cake? I’m going to fatten you up. I’m going to put a great big belly on you, Fatso!”

Ant’s eyes widened and he looked around, suddenly very aware of how public a setting this was.

Danny simply laughed. “Am I embarrassing you?” he teased, stretching his big, muscular body out, like his outstanding physique wasn’t already attracting enough attention. “I love that! You’re such a cute little fatty when you’re embarrassed!”

That was the moment Ant realised that Danny was completely without any hangups or shame. If he wanted to take Ant and make him his own, he would do. And Ant’s resolve to resist him was rapidly ebbing away.

Ant didn’t speak to Bryony about his meet-ups with Danny in the coming weeks, and he sensed that Danny was keeping it quiet as well. Perhaps that’s what gave the whole thing an additional layer of mischief for them both. Ant lavished attention on Bryony and yet, he secretly wished that it was her other boyfriend that was playing with his dick instead. The more time he spent around Danny, the more tame the situation with Bryony seemed to become. She simply didn’t have that spark of domination or hedonism that Ant found so wildly intoxicating in Danny. A fuck with Danny was the most satisfying experience he had ever known. A fuck with Bryony, less so.

As Ant’s older sister dutifully produced a grandchild for their parents, Ant sensed their disapproval of him shift into bewildered disappointment. When was he going to bring home a nice girl for them to meet? Someone he would settle down with and start a family?

“You know, you’ve got to stop getting take-out every night,” his mother complained.

“I don’t get take-out every night,” Ant sighed, knowing that his much larger belly was about to crop up in conversation once again.

“Well, you’re clearly doing something wrong. You’re starting to look like your Uncle George with that big tummy.”

Ant sighed. It had never taken much for him to feel like the black sheep of the family, but now he was starting to look so much different to them all as well. The arrival of his pointed nipples had seemed to occur overnight, and a little puddle of fat was starting to appear under his chin. “Some people like this chunky look,” he shot back defiantly.

“They really don’t, darling,” his mother scoffed back. “No woman wants to wake up next to that,” she poked at the firm, rounded pot belly on her son.

Ant laughed. He was never going to get the approval of his mother, so why try? “Trust me, mom,” he smirked, heading over to the cookie jar. “You’re dead wrong about this one.”

Bryony’s calls were getting fewer and further between, leaving Ant wide open to the forceful whims of Danny. The guy’s confidence was inspiring and when Ant was with him, he felt very much within the clutches of someone wielding an extreme power over him.

“What’s the most fattening thing on your menu?” Danny would ask wherever they went out together; enjoying watching the chub squirm as he explained without a hint of shame that he was very much deliberately trying to make Ant fatter. He would create scenarios where he could take things further, once spending an insane amount of money on a new suit for Ant, just so that he could explain to the tailor that he needed something that would still fit the fattening Ant for an imaginary wedding in six months time.

“As you can see, he tends to gain weight in that chubby rear of his, and his gut keeps pushing out further and further. In general, he puts on about five pounds a month. So…” he pretended to do the math, “...I’ll need something that’ll still work with another 30lbs of blubber on his frame.”

The tailor stuttered and mumbled through it all as Ant stood there, watching Danny having his fun, seeing both of them cringe with embarrassment. However, the rewards when Ant got home were more than enough to make up for it.

Numbers seemed to be a bit part of Danny’s motivation and he had talked endlessly about the day when Ant would finally reach three hundred pounds. He spoke about it as though it were a forgone conclusion that Ant would get there in a matter of weeks, and his prediction turned out to be exactly right. Due to his extreme height, Ant had always been used to people being surprised at how heavy he was. Even at his slimmest in college, he had been just a little more than 190lbs. But hitting three hundred had turned Danny on like never before, ejaculating into Ant’s mouth with a force and volume he had never known.

From that point on, Ant had really started to feel his obesity taking hold; or perhaps it was simply his laziness taking over. Everything took that little bit more effort, whilst the thigh rubbing and sweating had become a part of everyday life. His width and mass was catching him off guard, particularly when he tried to squeeze his oversized rear through a tight spot. The fat had begun spreading a little more evenly across his body, finally hitting his arms and neck for the first time. But no matter how awkward his shape appeared, Danny still couldn’t seem to get enough of him, very quickly shifting from talking about making Ant three hundred pounds, to suddenly fantasising about four hundred.

It wasn’t that Ant had surrendered entirely to Danny’s desires. After a weekend away with some of his old college friends, he’d started to realise just how much fatter and out of shape he had become since his studying days; constantly needing to sit down after all the walking they had done. At that point, he’d secretly joined a gym and had aspirations to get back in shape. But even after paying for a six month subscription, Ant had only found the motivation to go twice. It had been a stupid waste of cash that would have been better spent on upgrading his clothes which continued to stretch and tighten, making him nervous to bend down in work.

When Ant’s landlord had put his rent up, he’d seriously considered the idea of moving back in with his parents. But when he’d mentioned this to Danny, the big man had had very different ideas altogether. He’d moved swiftly, getting Ant a very nice, plush apartment in a building he owned not far from his own. He seemed to relish the opportunity to do this for his lover, insisting that all he wanted in return was for Ant to use a little more of his new disposable income to feed his greedy appetite with a few extra take-outs each month. It was all so perfect. Here, the elevator actually worked, it was closer to his workplace and he was within easy reach of a constantly horny Danny.

After three months in the new place, Ant’s weight was creeping up faster than ever. On a day-to-day basis, he wasn’t especially noticing it. However, in work, his desk chair was squealing in agony as he parked his heavy rear down, or shifted his weight in it; garnering him looks of irritation from his colleagues.

With an easing on his finances, Ant had developed a taste for different beers, tasting many from around the world. It was a hobby that Danny had been able to indulge him in, owning several bars around the city and sourcing large quantities of the chub’s favorites at no cost.

“Have you heard from Bryony lately?” a naked Ant asked, gorging himself on all the pizza Danny had brought over with him.

“A couple of weeks ago,” Danny mumbled disinterestedly back. “Why?”

“She’s not replied to me in weeks,” Ant complained. “She’s not even been over to check out my new place.”

Danny gave a chuckle, like he was entirely unsurprised by this. He reached his large hand down and patted the great shelf of belly fat that Ant now had at three hundred and forty five pounds. “I think you may be getting a bit too fat for her these days,” he laughed with pride.

It had been a reflex that Ant couldn’t help, but he knew that Danny had seen it. At being told he was ‘too fat’ for Bryony, his dick had spasmed and dribbled slightly in arousal, making him flush red with embarrassment.

“What was that?” Danny asked with mocking laughter. “Did you just get harder when I said that?”

“No…” Ant mumbled in an attempt to recover.

“I’ve made you too fat for Bryony…” Danny whispered into his ear, keeping a keen eye on Ant’s crotch as he did so. Sure enough, the instinctive bounce and pulse of Ant’s erection happened again.

“Stop!” Ant chuckled with laughter, embarrassed by how easily Danny had gained an insight into the inner workings of his mind.

“Are you turned on because you’re all mine now? The fact that you know that I’m not going to stop making you fatter and fatter and fatter…?”

Ant sighed as Danny expertly took hold of his hardness and began stroking it. He relaxed into it and closed this eyes. So what if Danny knew this control and ownership of him turned him on so much? It was always an inevitability that he would find out some day. He moaned aloud, letting Danny know that he was enjoying his work. He didn’t even notice the cream cake coming towards him until it was smashing against his mouth; cream spreading up, even into his nostrils.

It was amazing what you could do with money. When Ant’s weight gain had stalled a few weeks’ later, Danny had brought a nutritionist over with him one evening. Ant had no idea how much the guy was paying him: double or triple his usual rate? He’d assumed a nutritionist would find it immoral to sit there and listen to a three hundred and sixty pound fat man list all the foods he liked, whilst he wrote them all down and tried to think of ways to combine them in order to restart another massive weight gain.

The whole time, Danny sat with his huge arm over Ant’s shoulders, as if comforting and supporting him through this process, like some sort of therapy. It was Danny who asked all the questions, explained in detail when Ant appeared to be most hungry during the day and the periods in which his gains had happened most rapidly. The meeting was deadly serious; enough so that Ant didn’t feel his usual embarrassment that he experienced when Danny put him through situations like these. Mostly, he was in awe at how much detail and attention Danny had put into his gains so far; listing with such precision the ingredients for weight gain shakes he’d made for Ant in the past and the patterns of Ant’s behaviour that usually led to the best results.

By the time the nutritionist left, Danny held several pages of notes in his hand and looked at Ant seriously. This was happening. There wouldn’t be one single piece of advice that he wouldn’t be following. Very shortly, Ant was going to experience a very sudden, a very serious, and very extreme weight gain.

Part of Danny’s plan was to take Ant on a two week vacation with him; a cruise through the Carribean, with every manner of luxury included. It was the opportunity of a lifetime to experience such a vacation, and Ant had a sense that he didn’t want to waste a single moment of it. Having Danny with him for two whole weeks was something he never thought he would be treated to. He expected that, after a couple of days, the guy’s interest would inevitably turn to one or more of the beautiful, attractive women on the ship; especially given the way that they were ogling him as Danny strutted about by one of the several swimming pools onboard. However, the reality was somewhat different. Danny was horny from the moment that they set off for the port and he remained so for the entire time. So openly affectionate with him, Ant got used to feeling the kinky guy’s hand resting on his increasingly bulbous rear as they were moving around the many different areas of the ship. It helped Ant to have the sense that he belonged to Danny; only heightening his already ravenous appetite.

Those two weeks seemed to change everything. Not only had Ant experienced a rather sudden and dramatic tightening in all of his clothes, but he had actually found himself falling for Danny in a very real and personal way. He sensed that Danny had rather special feelings for him as well, although he knew they were perhaps never truly compatible. When Ant compared himself with the other people he knew Danny fucked, he realised that he was the only one who lacked that playful, mischievous quality that Danny found so appealing; Bryony being a key example of someone with the type of ‘spark’ that Ant simply lacked.

“Thanks for everything these last two weeks,” Ant mumbled; the car steadily moving towards his apartment as they arrived back in the city. “I’ve really enjoyed every minute of it.”

“Me too!” Danny smirked, playing with Ant’s hair and stroking the little double chin that appeared more pronounced than ever on his lover.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to fit into my work pants tomorrow morning,” he chuckled, secretly dreading the inevitable fight he was going to have with buttoning himself up.

“Just keep carb-loading before bed, like the nutritionist said,” Danny nodded, seeing that they were already on Ant’s street and sweeping his large hand over the bulk of Ant’s extensive gut one last time before the fat man would leave the car and be handed his bags by the driver.

“What are you doing tonight?” Ant asked, trying to prolong their time together; even just a few seconds.

“I’m not sure,” Danny shrugged. He was always so busy. Even during the vacation there had been times when the man had disappeared for an hour or so in order to handle business matters. “I have a girl who wants to come over, so I’ll probably be with her.”

The thought cut through Ant like a knife. “Bryony?” he asked, trying to remain casual.

“No, not Bryony,” Danny laughed, seeming to have gone off her over the last few weeks.

The door was opened for Ant, his bags waiting on the sidewalk for him: The end of the ride.

Back upstairs in his tiny apartment, Ant felt the blues washing over him. Not only was the perfect vacation over, but the man he had fallen for was already back on his cell phone, arranging his next hook up. Was this what his life was going to be like from now on? Passing from one kinky fat boy lover to another. Until, like Bryony, he became too boring, or unattractive to them, then have to start all over again? That wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he deserved.

He looked at himself in the mirror; a handsome 6’5 man, with a full, rounded belly and wide, fat rear. That morning, before breakfast, he had weighed in at more than three hundred and eighty five pounds. His blubbery chest was starting to come in beautifully and the double chin was now more striking than it had ever been before. He pulled his head back and observed the wedge of fat that was begnnning to creep around the back of his neck; spectacular. But more than that, he was greedy and lazy; completely converted to this hedonistic lifestyle that Danny found so arousing to observe; the manner in which he wanted him to live. So why wasn’t he here now, living it with him? Enjoying all this with him? Working towards the next hundred pounds of pure fat to add to his body?

It was then that Ant decided what he wanted to do. It was all or nothing; playing for the win, or nothing at all. Danny was about to see that Ant really did have that ‘spark’ inside him after all.

A few hours later, Ant was taking a deep breath, just outside the door to Danny’s apartment. Then, with the key Danny had accidentally left in his apartment six weeks ago, Ant charged inside, carrying the three boxes of pizza and bag of treats he had picked up on the way over. Although he tried not to look at them, he caught sight of Danny with an unknown, slender girl, making out on his couch, all dressed up after a night at some fancy restaurant. Ant pretended not to care, simply making his way over to the kitchen area to set his things down. He reached into the freezer and pulled out the expensive ice cream that Danny kept in and helped himself to a spoon from the drawer, throwing off the lid as if to have a light snack before starting his three pizzas.

“Wha…What are you doing here?” Danny asked, running over in shock and leaving his beautiful date looking completely perplexed on the couch. “What are you wearing?”

Ant grinned. It had been an embarrassing subway ride over here, but he was glad that Danny had immediately noticed the extreme tightness of his sweatpants and t-shirt that hadn’t fit for the last fifty pounds. “I got hungry, so I thought I would come over.” He looked over at Danny’s date and called across. “This guy has the best ice cream in the world! He buys it in for me because it’s super fattening.”

Danny made to try and stop him, but seemed to realise the futility of it the moment Ant began lifting his shirt off and digging into the ice cream with a lustful hunger. “I’m sorry about this,” he called back to his date, despite appearing to be holding back the urge to laugh as he covered his face with his enormous hands, simply watching the blubber on Ant’s body jiggle and sway in full view as he went back in for another scoop. Then, out came one enormous slice of pizza, which Ant began feeding to himself.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Danny’s date asked, finally getting up and standing next to Danny with a possessive hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, did Danny not mention me?” Ant asked, reaching his greasy hand out for her to shake. “I’m Ant. I’m Danny’s little piggy project.”

At this, Danny cracked up and laughed.

“I’m sorry, what?” his date asked, now completely unsure about which one of them to look at.

“I’m Danny’s Fat Boy,” Ant went on, grabbing the underside of his belly and jiggling it. “Danny wants to fatten me up to five hundred pounds as fast as possible. That’s why he buys me all of this food. We just got back from a two week cruise where he absolutely stuffed me all day and all night long.”

“This is…” the girl grumbled, feeling like Ant was playing around with her. “Danny, what on Earth is going on here?”

Danny simply laughed, his face full of joy from the embarrassment of this situation. He went to speak, then laughed again, before finally shaking his head and replying: “Well, I guess it’s like he says. Ant’s my little piggy project!”

“Can I ask you a serious question?” Ant went on, moving from behind the counter and pointing at his stomach. “Which of these new stretch marks do you think looks the cutest? Danny loves this angry looking one here.”

Danny was almost creasing over with amusement now, watching his date’s confusion and impatience starting to boil over. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation. But when one was not forthcoming, she grabbed her purse from the kitchen island and stormed out, throwing the door behind her.

“She’s a feisty one!” Ant chuckled, as they both jumped from the banging of the door.

“Well, can you blame her?” Danny laughed, seeing the obese intruder beginning to take down another huge slice of pizza. “You gatecrashed our date with your ice cream and fast food.”

“I think my huge belly might have had something to do with it as well,” Ant joked, grabbing a wedge of stomach fat and jiggling. “Plus that little bit where I mentioned being a piggy project.”

Danny laughed again from the memory of it. “Yeah!” he nodded in approval. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“Dunno,” Ant shrugged. “Maybe I’m just sick of waiting around and wanted to grab your attention in the best way I could think of.”

“Trust me, Fat Boy,” Danny smirked, looking at the huge size of Ant. “No one can get away with ignoring you these days!” He reached out and grabbed the discarded t shirt that Ant had been wearing. “Did you come all the way over here wearing this? It barely goes below your belly button these days!”

“It’s my favourite shirt. I’m not going to just stop wearing it just because it no longer fits,” Ant replied defiantly back.

Danny exhaled with a look of pure bliss. “Oh shit, man…you’re just so fucking perfect! I love you! I love you so fucking much!”

Ant was momentarily startled. “You really mean that?” he asked. “Because I know that we started this whole thing based on a kinky little threesome. But… I want more.”

“Then why don’t you tell me what you want?” Danny grinned, bemused by Ant’s sudden confidence.

“I want to move in here full time.”

“Sure,” Danny chuckled, looking around the huge space as if he would barely even notice someone else living there. “Fine by me.”

“I want to quit work so that I don’t have to squeeze my fat ass into those tiny little work pants anymore.”

“That’s understandable,” Danny nodded with a quiet delight. “Anything else?”

Ant thought for a moment. This had all gone even better than he could have ever hoped for. Now that he was here, in the moment, he realised that Danny had been waiting for him to step up like this for quite some time.

“I want to get fat. I want you to get me seriously fucking fat, so that we have people staring at us everytime they see us together.” Now Danny’s grin was as wide as Ant had ever seen it. “You’re going to be quite the spectacle,” he nodded in agreement; his erection pressing so clearly up against his pants. “A real lardass!”

“A handsome man like you, dating a huge, fat monster like me… everyone is going to know you’re a feeder.”

“I think you’re right,” Danny beamed, moving in to kiss his very obese lover; seemingly in love with the idea that Ant’s body alone would soon be enough to show the world how kinky and dominant he was with him.

Ant couldn’t help but giggle with excitement. “And, one more thing…” he whispered. “Never ever stop showing me off…” he finished, right before Danny kissed him with unfiltered passion.

“Put this back on,” Danny suddenly commanded, throwing the seriously undersized shirt back at Ant. “Leave the pizzas. I’ll feed them to you in the morning. I’m taking you out to eat.”

“But you’ve only just got back in, haven’t you?” Ant asked in surprise. The whirlwind that was Danny had just changed course once again.

“Yeah. And now I’m taking my piggy project out for a feed,” he laughed, tapping the wide, reulsively chubby rear on his lover in order to speed him out of the door. “There’s no way I’m wasting an outfit like this just feeding you at home.”

Ant rolled his eyes but smiled with pleasure nonetheless, out in the hallway once again.

“It’s time to grow, Fat Boy!”

827 notes · View notes

stvolanis · 6 months

Text

All Dolled Up

PT. 1

PT. 2

PAIRINGS: Dads best friend! Perv! Elvis Presley x innocent OC

WARNINGS: THIS IS SHORTER BUT THERE WILL BE ANOTHER PART IF THIS DOES WELL, age gap (OC is 18 and Elvis is in his early 40s), inaccurate time line probably, OC is innocent, pet names (baby, darlin)

NSFW WARNINGS:Elvis is a perv,corruption kink, he does dirty things with her panties, dacryphilia (if you squint), masturbating (Elvis), mentions of oral (m receiving). I promise the next one will be nastier guysss<3

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

It was hot and humid and the air felt somehow heavy. Sweat dripped down Kim’s tanned skin, and her once white shirt was nearly see through. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, a few strands matted to her forehead as she raced around happily with her dogs. Her most favorite and cherished life forms, Dottie and Bonnie. A little toy poodle and a mastiff, yet they were best of friends.

Kim rolled around in the grass with her dogs, free of worries, even as he shirt turned to an ugly brown from the dirt and muddy spots. Dottie, the toy poodle, licked at her face feverishly as Kim pushed her head away with a contagious giggle.

The sunset was a beautiful purple, pink and orange-ish hue with no trace of clouds in sight. Kim lived on the Country side where everything was old fashioned. The men wore tailored pants and shirts tucked in, while the boys ran around in shorts and a home t-shirt. The women wore long skirts and modest floral shirts and the girls wore short skirts and dresses. Kim never could manage to fit in with the girls who’d hitch their skirt up at the sight of a nice looking man, and she didn’t really care to.

She lived with her father and older brother, who were both hard working men. Her mother had passed away when Kim was 7 from an overdose on Aspirin. Kims mother was never a happy woman. She was never satisfied with her marriage, her kids, or even the life that was dealt to her. If Kim was allowed to swear, she would definitely call her mother some nasty things. It was no surprise when her father had woken up to a dead body on the floor next to their shared bed. Even if she wasn’t the best mother, Kim was still saddened slightly.

Kims father wasn’t a strict man, but when it came to his daughter, he was. ‘No boys’ he’d say, as if any of the lousy boys the town had to offer caught Kims interest. ‘Posture’ he’d scold when they were out in public. Of course her father loved and cared for her, after all, she was his only daughter. Kim was hidden away from the town. her older brother, Marcus, tutored her at their home every day starting at 7 AM sharp and usually only lasted till 2 PM.

The girls she’d pass by during her long walks around town called her a freak. They thought she was weird for being home schooled, and she constantly had to endure stares because of it. The women were no better, either. ‘She’ll never become a woman’ they’d mutter. Or the most hurtful and recent, ‘she’ll end up just like that no good mother of hers’. And to that, Kim had felt her eyes water.

On her free time, Kim would hang out with the only friend she had. A tall, skinny boy named Robert. He didn’t have many friends either, so they decided to befriend each other during grade 6 and have been best friends ever since. Robert got along well with Kims older brother, as they held similar interests. Though nothing they talked about entertained Kim enough to not doze off.

“Kimberly!” Her father yelled out to her. Kim’s body snapped forward off the grass, startling her dogs who were laying with her. “Yes, father?” She asked as she got up and brushed the dirt off of her clothes. “Jesus, you’re a mess, didn’t I tell ya we had a guest comin’ later?” He scolded with furrowed brows as he ushered her into their wooden house.

Kim frowned. “‘M Sorry, I forgot. I’ll go shower.” She muttered as she looked down at her feet. Her father sighed. “It’s too late now, he’ll be here any minute.” He replied as he looked over at the grandfather clock. “Go fetch ya brother for me, won’t ya?” He asked.

Kim nodded her head with a smile as she trotted her way to her older brothers room, lightly knocking on the door. She could hear shuffling from behind the door before her brother opened it, revealing his trashed room. “Oh—what happened?” She asked as she peered over his shoulder.

“Quit bein’ nosy, missy.” Her brother said teasingly as he jutted her head away and closed the door behind him. Kim giggled. “It looks like one of the pigs ran through your room.” She teased. Marcus rolled his eyes. “Hush, I’ve just been too busy to clean lately.” He replied.

“Hm, I’ll help ya, if ya want?” Kim asked with a quirked brow as they made their way to the living room. “That’d be real nice of ya, Kim.” He replied with a smile. Kim nodded, smiling back at her older brother. One of her favorite, most understanding people. They’ve always been close, and she knew that if no one was ever gonna be there, he surely was.

Her brother was to serve in the military in 3 months, so she tried to make every last moments she has with him count before he’s shipped off to god knows where doing who knows what. It was a hard burden to carry for the both of them. Kim didn’t want Marcus to leave, and neither did he.

Elvis Presley felt his breath hitch in his throat as he watched her round the corner. “This is my son, Marcus.” Her father began, gesturing to Kim’s brother. “And this is my daughter, Kimberly.” He said with a wavering smile at his daughters messy state.

She stood at 5’3 in her grey socks, one pulled down lower than the other. Her short blue jeans had darker flowers engraved on the edges of them, and god, did they make her legs look amazing. Her shirt was see through, and Elvis could see her lacy pink bra she wore underneath if he squinted enough past the dirt and grime on it. Her small doe eyes peered up at him, a light hazel color paired with long eyelashes. She was slim, and tan from being out in the sun all day, and the freckles on her face proved it.

“Hi, sir. Nice to meet ya.” Kim said cheerfully as she extended her hand to Elvis. His lips felt dry before he licked them. “Elvis Presley, nice to meet ya too, darlin’.” He replied with a small smile and a firm nod, grasping her smaller hand in his large one. Her hands were soft, even though she worked outside in the barn all day, and Elvis reveled in it.

“Elvis will be staying with us for a week.” Her father stated. Kim raised a brow. “Whys that?” She asked. Marcus slapped the back of her head lightly. Kim furrowed her brows as she looked over at him. “Was just akin’.” She huffed out with an eye roll.

“Alright, y’all go on now, me n’ E.P gon’ talk for a while.” Kim’s father said with a boy-ish smile as he glanced at Elvis. The man chuckled in response and nodded his head as he watched Mike, Kim’s dad, walk into the kitchen.

Elvis pondered for a moment as he watched Kim skip away, probably back to her room. Her hair swayed along with her, and Elvis got a better view of her plump ass in her short jeans and Elvis fought the urge to let out a groan. She was so different compared to the women he seen daily that were throwing themselves at him. Kimberly was pure, innocent. Untouched. And oh, how Elvis wanted to be her first everything. He felt like a pervert thinking about his best friends daughter in such ways, but at the end of the day, he was just a man. A man with sick thoughts and a now growing boner he was trying to hide as he walked into the kitchen, his entwined hands covering his crotch area.

“Kim, do you know who that man is?!” Her older brother whisper-yelled. Kim pondered for a moment, trying to recall if she knew him before she shrugged. “That’s the Elvis Presley. He’s a famous musician. You’ve heard his music before, remember?” He said urgently as he dragged Kim into his room and to his record player.

Marcus began showing her various records, playing Kim a few. Kim was in awe, not only was the mystery man beautiful, but now he was no longer a mystery. From the songs her brother had shown her, she decided that ‘Love me, tender’ was her favorite one.

Kim felt his eyes burning through her at their first interaction. She watched him watch her through hooded eyes as they peered her whole figure from the tips of her toes to the last hair on her pretty head. He looked at her with something swirling in his dark eyes that no man, or boy, had ever looked at her with. Elvis looked like he wanted her. Needed her, even. And it made Kimberly’s stomach swirl with hot butterflies. It was a new feeling for her and it made her whole body jittery. She didn’t know how long she’d survive if he was staying at her home for an entire week.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Night had fallen, and Kim was now in her silky night gown that was adorned with lace. It was a light purple color and it gleamed in the small light coming from the lamp that was stationed next to her bed. She sat reading a book, her reading glasses resting on the bridge of her nose as she peered down with pursed lips.

Her father and Elvis had left to the towns local bar and had been gone for a while. It was 12 AM now, and Kimberly yawned as she stretched her arms out but was startled as she heard a loud ‘thud’ come from the living room. Curiosity peeked her as she dragged herself out of the warmth of her bed. She tried to be as quiet as she could as she walked on her tip-toes to the living room, peering over the door as she watched Elvis help her drunk father up off of the ground with a chuckle.

Kim let out a sigh of relief before walking into the room. “I can help ya.” She said in a tired voice, her round glasses almost slipping off her slim nose before she slightly pushed them up. Elvis felt his mouth water at the sight of her. So small, and kind. “No need, honey, I got him.” He said with a smile as he began to lead Mike to his room.

Elvis rested Mike on his bed before he quietly shut his door. “I can get you a cot, if you’d like.” Kim muttered shyly as she peered up as Elvis through her glasses. He sucked in a breath as he peered down at her. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, baby.” He muttered.

Her face bloomed red at the nickname, and she felt her thighs rub together and the butterflies return it her stomach at his stare. This didn’t go unnoticed to Elvis. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He said as he grasped her soft hand in his, leading her to her opened door.

They both walked in and Kim made herself comfortable in her bed and watched as Elvis looked around her room, but his eyes froze on a picture of her and Robert. “Boyfriend?” He asked lightly, but his eyes held something much more menacing. Kim softly shook her head. “No, he’s my best friend.” She said groggily as she laid down, her bear held tightly against her chest.

“Good, good.” Elvis said aloud. He didn’t get a response, instead he heard the light snores of the beauty resting on her bed. Elvis knew he shouldn’t have, but he began to look through her things. He started with her records, peering through and stopping as he seen one of his that her brother had let her have earlier. He dug through her draws before something off to the side caught his wandering eye.

A pile of clothes sat on the floor at the edge of Kimberly’s bed, the ones she had wore today, and at the top rested her cotton panties. Elvis felt his skin grow hot, and his breathing became heavy. He dragged himself to them as if he were in trance as he picked them up, shoving them quickly into his back pocket before he quietly left her room.

He wondered their house before he found their small restroom. He closed the door and locked it with his back resting against the wall as he dug out her panties. He felt dirty as he brought them up to his nose, inhaling them before letting out a groan. He could see where a wet patch had formed and he felt his slacks tighten painfully before he unzipped them, pulling down his boxers and letting his hard cock spring free.

Pre-cum dotted at the tip and Elvis rubbed it down his shaft, spitting onto his hand before tugging his cock a few times. Elvis suckled where the wat patch was on Kimberly’s panties feverishly as he tugged his hard cock harder, small whimpers passing his lips. He felt so nasty, so wrong doing this, but he couldn’t help it. He’d have her any way he could, even if it meant rubbing one out to her dirty panties.

He shifted the panties from his mouth to his aching cock, wrapping it around. He imagined it was her mouth, sucking him dry for everything he has. The way he’d tell her how to do it from her inexperience as she’d peer up at him through watered eyes, tears falling down her flushed cheeks. How good she’d be for him.

He groaned as he threw his head back as he pumped his cock faster with her panties fisted securely around it. Elvis panted as his breathing became uneven, and he could feel a knot forming in his lower stomach as his end was near. The older man wanted to be in her pussy so bad, but he knew he could never. After all, she was his best friends daughter. No matter how badly he wanted to fuck her and make her his, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Elvis clenched his eyes shut as he slapped his hand over his mouth, trying not to release a loud moan as his cum spurted from his cock. It landed on his shirt, and some went onto the floor beneath him. Elvis drug out his orgasm, whining at the slight overstimulation he brought upon himself.

The last though Elvis had was Kimberly on her knees beneath him with his cum painted on her face as he began to clean up. Guilt consumed Elvis when he’d finish, how could he do this? How vile and disgusting of him. She was barely 18, and Elvis was a grown man, but he couldn’t stop the way he felt about her.

His thoughts only lead to more darker things.

#70s elvis #elvis x reader #elvis presley #elvis x oc #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis presley fandom #elvis fans #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader #Elvis #elvis presley x y/n #elvisaaronpresley #elvis music

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wrestlersownmyheart · 6 months

Note

Heyyy~ saw your requests were open and was lookin for some Damian Priest content! Definetly Judgement Day vibes, maybe he’s looking to recruit Y/N? I wanna read this and BLUSH, FLUSTER ME I DARE YA!

I DOUBLE DARE YA! 😂 ok thanks!!!

Thanks for helping me hammer out the title on this @auburnwrites!! Hope you enjoy what I came up with! 😀

Title: Love & Conquests Pairing: Damian Priest X Reader Summary: You work as a trainer for WWE. You notice competition between Damian Priest of the Judgement Day, and wannabe member, JD McDonagh, but you don't realize why. Till they both start hitting on you. Then you feel like a conquest and decide to shun them both. But will you grow feelings for Damian as he spends more time around you? And will JD take the hint that he never stood a chance? Or will his actions go too far, causing the Archer Of Infamy to unleash his pent up rage on him? Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Some violence toward men and women.

Note: I saw someone on Tumblr call JD a Funko Pop and I thought it was funny so I used it in this story. Sorry, not trying to be a thief or anything!

Love & Conquests

"Have you seen the new trainer," Dominik Mysterio asked Finn Balor, Damian Priest and JD McDonagh in the locker room Saturday night. "She is a looker, hermanos."

The group was all getting ready for the Fastlane pay-per-view that was to start any minute.

"Really," JD asked. "I'll have t' go check 'er out later."

"Dream on, Pipsqueak." Damian said, his base voice going even lower in pitch. "Keep your mind on business."

"Yeah, okay," JD said reluctantly, buttoning up his black dress shirt. "I'll take care o' business first."

"Why'd you have to go and get his mind off work, bro," Damian said to Dominik. "It's hard enough getting him to pull off a win around here. Why does Finn even want him in our faction?"

"Damian."

Damian looked up to find Adam Pearce standing in the doorway to the Judgement Day's locker room.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to go to the trainer and see how that knee is doing."

"It's fine," Damian replied, giving said knee a pat.

"I still want it checked out. I know you wouldn't tell me if it was still hurt."

Damian rolled his eyes and stood from the couch he'd been sitting on. "It's fine. I'm barely limping."

"But limping nonetheless," Adam shot back. "Go get it checked out or you're not cashing in tonight."

"Wait, what?"

Rhea stood up from the seat she had on the floor. "What do you mean? I thought you were waiting!"

"Chill, Rhea," Damian said, glaring at Adam. "It's not a for sure thing. I was just thinking about it. And if I do cash in, I want to do it on my own." He held up his hands when Finn and Rhea and Dom all three gave him a look. "Look, I just want to win it on my own merit. If y'all go out there and help me, I'm gonna be called a transitional champion. No. I have to do this on my own."

With that, he left the room, a slight limp in his gait.

He headed straight for the trainer's office ready to get this over with. Just as he stepped through the door he was greeted by a beautiful doctor.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You watched as a very tall, handsome Puerto Rican man entered your office. You felt your face flush, and hoped he didn't notice.

"Hi, Are you Damian Priest," you asked shyly, checking your appointments list.

Seemingly quiet, Damian only nodded as he stared at you.

The fact that he stared at you only made your face heat up even more.

Dang it.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N," he replied.

His voice was so deep and sexy!

He reached his hand out to you to shake and you gently took his hand, and shook. You couldn't help but notice how his hand swallowed yours whole.

"So, Adam Pearce said you'd be stopping by. Let's take a look at that knee." You said, motioning for him to sit down on the exam table.

You watched as Damian took his seat on the table. "Now, don't be nervous. We're just going to do a couple of exercises to make sure your knee is stable."

"That's fine. In fact, my knee is fine. I know it."

"I hope so," you said softly, taking a rubber mallet to test his reflexes with. Then you had him hold his leg out straight for thirty seconds to see the strength in his knee and leg. Then you had him stand to his feet and perform a few squats.

Then, you were feeling his knee to see if anything seemed out of place.

"Any pain at all when I do this?"

He shook his head and smiled at you. "The only time it hurts at all is when I walk on it. But the pain is negligible."

You nodded with a hum. "I see. Well, I can't find anything really wrong. I'd still advise you to not cash in your briefcase tonight, but if you do, just use caution."

"Thanks, Doc," Damian smiled at you and reached for your hand once more. You gave it to him and were surprised when he raised the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Oh," you couldn't stop the half-moaned word if you tried. Then you were flaming red again, you could feel it.

Flustered, you tugged your hand back gently and spoke "If… If you do cash in tonight. Stop by here afterward so I can recheck your knee."

Damian smiled again. "Sure thing, cariña. Thanks again, for checking me out," he said with a wink.

Your face would not stop burning this night.

Especially thanks to Mr. Priest.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"You weren't kidding, bro. That new trainer is a knockout. I think I'm in love," Damian said, chuckling. He punched Dominik lightly on the shoulder and grinned as if to say, "You know how to pick 'em!"

"I told you," Dominik responded, with a laugh.

"So are you going to ask her out?"

Rhea asked the question with her arms crossed across her chest. She was protective of her family and wanted to make sure the woman in question was good enough for her "terror twin".

"Of course! Maybe tonight after the show. She wanted me to stop by anyway if I was to cash in. So I figured I might stop by regardless."

"I may have t' stop by m'self," JD grinned. "I love a challenge."

"Excuse you!" Rhea scolded. "Did you not just hear Damian say he was going to ask her out? And women are not challenges, jackass."

"Hey, all's fair in love an' war, love."

"Don't call me love," Rhea spat back.

"You'd better back off," Damian growled, stepping toward JD. "The only reason you're here on the outskirts of the group is because you are Finn's friend. That's the only thing keeping you safe right now."

"Easy, lad," JD said, raising his hands defensively. "I just want t' see what all d'a fuss is about."

Damian took another step toward JD, threateningly. "Leave. Her. Alone."

"Alright. Alright, partner."

"I'm not your partner. And you're not part of the Judgement Day!"

A loud, piercing whistle whizzed through the air then.

Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked at Finn.

"Ever'body, just calm down!" He nearly shouted the words. "I'm gettin' tired of d'a mayhem! Can we all just get on d'a same page?"

Sighing, Finn left the room before anyone could answer him.

"He's right guys," Rhea said. "Get it together!"

She stormed out next.

Which meant Dom was running after her.

Which left JD and Damian.

Not wishing to piss Finn or Rhea off any worse, he simply left the room as well, knowing full well that if he stayed, he'd probably kill JD.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Damian was setting Cody up for JD to hit him with the Money In the Bank briefcase on top of the announce table. But JD screwed up yet once more and slammed the briefcase into Damian's sore knee. Damian instantly went down as his knee buckled and he held onto it.

In the next instant, however, Cody had lifted Damian up and performed a Cross Rhodes onto the announce table. Rhea was beside herself as Jey Uso maneuvered Finn into a double-team Cody Cutter. Jey rolled out of the ring and Cody covered Finn for the 1…2…3!

There were new Undisputed Tag Team Champions!

Rhea sat on the floor looking toward the rafters as if to say, "I can't believe this!"

Finally, after Jey and Cody celebrated in the ring, it was time to head backstage.

Finn and Dom helped Damian backstage and to the trainer.

JD trailed behind them apologizing up and down–only to Finn, not Damian.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You watched Damian's match on the little tv in your office and immediately after JD hit Damian with the briefcase, pulled his file from your drawer and prepared to see him in the next few minutes. You watched as Finn Balor and Dominik Mysterio helped Damian backstage with a shorter man–JD McDonagh if you remembered right–following behind looking to be very apologetic.

Minutes later, Damian headed into your office, a more noticeable limp this time, and waited for you to direct him.

"Have a seat," you told him, motioning to the exam table.

"You don't sound surprised to see me," Damian said to you, as he sat down.

"Well, I was… watchingyourmatchontheTV."

You flushed as you said the words as fast as you could.

"Checkin' me out again, huh?"

"Stop it," you smiled, as your face burned even more. "Now, let's take a look at that knee."

"Miss? Can I have y'r assistance please?" came an Irish voice from the hallway. The man that had trailed behind Finn and Damian on the ramp, stepped into the room holding his head.

"Yes, I'll help you in just a few moments," you replied. "If you'll have a seat in one of the chairs, I'm with a patient at the moment."

You heard Damian grumble under his breath as JD took a seat and waited.

"What are you even here for," he demanded. "I was the one who took a hard hit to the knee. Because of you!"

"Hey now," JD sounded defensive. "I took a hard hit t' d'a head. I need t' be checked f'r a concussion.

"Your big head could take a few hits!"

"Guys," you said, squatting down and gently rolling up Damian's pant leg so you could better see his knee. "I'm not equipped to break up a fight. So, please calm down."

"Don't worry, cariña. We're not going to get into a fight. In your office." Damian specified. "The hallway, now that's a different matter."

You frowned as you checked over Damian's knee. There was a bit of swelling, but as you examined it, you couldn't find anything wrong with it–other than the swelling.

"Ice it down tonight and put some heat on it tomorrow, and it should be fine," you said, with a sigh. "You guys need to be more careful."

"Tell that to Funko Pop over there," Damian said.

"Hey, it's not my fault I was given a big head."

There was an odd tone to JD's voice and you looked over at him, saw him smiling an almost perverted grin at you. There was unmistakably an innuendo in his choice of words.

Your face burned drastically, and you frowned again.

Damian seemed to notice and instantly tensed. "Keep the language PG in front of the lady, pendejo."

"Yes, please do," you commented uncomfortably. You went back to looking over Damian's knee and still could find nothing wrong.

"I think you're good, Damian," you said, rising to your feet. "Just ice it and then heat it like I said and rest it till the next show and it should be fine."

"Thanks, cariña. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

He got up and surprised you by taking a seat in one of your chairs. You gave him a puzzled look.

"I'm just staying here to make sure Funko behaves himself."

You grew even more uncomfortable. You felt as though they were competing for your attention. And that made you feel like a conquest. Right then, you decided to shun them both. You weren't going to be treated in such a way.

"Okay, have it your way," you said finally. You took out a pen light and tested JD's pupils against the light. They dilated perfectly. You performed other tests to check him for a concussion and there were absolutely no signs of a concussion at all.

"I think you're fine," you said, putting your pen light back in your pocket.

"I think you're pretty fine, too," JD flirted, his blue eyes went dark and he reached out, traced the cross necklace at your neck.

You stepped back, growing more and more uncomfortable.

"Stop it," Damian instantly said from his chair.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Seriously, I think you are… okay, JD. There are no signs of a concussion."

"Okay, chill, darlin'. It's all good."

"JD. Leave. Ahora," Damian spoke up once again and stood to his feet. His eyes flashed fire.

"Alright, mate. I'm going."

Damian grabbed him by the collar of his dress shirt and escorted him out of the room himself. As he shoved JD out the door, he turned and looked at you. "Would you maybe like to get some drinks tonight? After the show?"

You looked over at him and gave a slight shake of your head. "I don't know what's going on with you two, but I'm not a conquest. And I won't be treated like one. So, no. I wouldn't like to go out for drinks."

With that, you slammed the door in Damian's face and went to work on filling out the medical reports on Damian and JD.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Eres tan estúpido!"

Damian swatted JD on the back of his head and gave him a shove into the wall right next to Finn.

"I swear if you two don't stop it!" Rhea exclaimed. "What is going on now?"

"He screwed things up with me and Y/N," Damian spouted off. "He started hitting on her and made her think we were making her a conquest."

"Maybe you should stay out of Damian's business, JD," Finn said, "After all, he'd made it known his intentions to ask out Y/N."

"But, I wasn't asking her out, per say," JD protested. "I was only hitting on her a wee bit."

"You nearly touched her chest when you were checking out her necklace!" Damian growled, getting in JD's face. "I'd say you weren't hitting on her a "wee bit". You were nearly assaulting her!" He stepped closer, forcing JD to step back against the wall. "And now she thinks I'm a scumbag like you!"

With a roar of rage, Damian lifted JD off his feet by his throat and proceeded to choke the life out of him.

Finn, Rhea and Dom all three freaked out and began trying to get Damian to release JD. He only did when he was good and ready. Which was a full minute later. He finally set JD back on his feet.

"Now, go apologize to her. NOW!"

Nodding silently, JD left the hallway and went in search of Y/N, so he could apologize. And hopefully live after the fact.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You were filing the reports into the file cabinet when you heard a knock at the door. Striding to the door and opening it, you saw JD McDonagh standing on the other side.

"I just want to, uh, ap-apologize." JD started before you could close the door again. "I'm sorry for d'a way I acted."

He wouldn't even look you in the eye. Some apology.

"Thank you JD. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm quite busy."

"Would you want t' catch a late dinner lat'r? After d'a show?" He asked suddenly. Hope lighting up his bright blue eyes.

"I-I don't think so, JD. I've already eaten," you lied. Why you didn't just come out and say you weren't attracted to him, you didn't know. Probably to keep from hurting his feelings.

"Oh. Well, if Damian's a problem, we don't have to let him know, ya know?"

"It's not that. I just really don't feel up to another meal."

"Okay, I see," JD smiled softly. "We can go another night. Catch ya later!" He was off down the hall before you could object to going out with him another night.

Sighing in frustration you sat down at your desk and began working on the remaining reports for the night.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Weeks passed with JD continuously badgering you for a date. You always came up with a lame reason why you couldn't, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. He seemed adamant that the reason you weren't going out with him was because of Damian's temper.

Which couldn't be further from the truth.

Damian had been nothing but kind since the night that JD and Damian were at each other's throats.

He'd come by a while after JD had, and said he was sorry, himself–in detail–not just some flimsy apology. You'd noticed that he also looked you straight in the eye and took your hand–not in a sleazy way either–giving it a gentle squeeze.

He'd won you over in the past weeks, plain and simple. He'd been there in your office when a fight broke out between Jey Uso and Drew McIntyre. If Damian had not been there to put a stop to it, you didn't know what you would've done. You were slightly shaken up because you'd never been around a fight before. Especially so up close and personal. Damian had hugged you afterwards and made sure you were okay.

He'd been coming around your office more and more hanging out, and one night he asked you out again. This time for dinner after the show.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you said softly with a smile. You failed to mention that JD had asked you out earlier and you'd turned him down yet again. In fact, you'd not said anything about JD hitting on you at all. You didn't want to start a big row between the two.

So, later, the two of you went to a nice restaurant and had a sit-down meal so you could talk and get to know each other better. You were seated next to the restaurant's front window facing the street, and your menus were brought to you. Within minutes, you had both placed your orders and then were waiting on the food.

"So, how long have you been a trainer," Damian asked. "I heard you used to work for TNA."

"About twelve years. Yes, I worked at TNA from the time I graduated till about a month ago." You took a sip of water. "What about you? How long have you been doing this?"

"Almost nineteen years," Damian answered. "I debuted in Monster Factory Pro Wrestling and trained there for about ten years and then went on to ROH for a few years, and from there, I signed with WWE and started in NXT. I've been on the main roster for about two years and I am loving it."

"You're very good, I've seen your work here in WWE."

"Thank you. So, tell me about yourself. And how did you come to be a trainer for WWE?"

"There's not much to tell. I am single. I live alone in an apartment till I get ready to settle down and buy a house. I grew up an only child and got into athletics at a young age. Got a torn ACL playing baseball when I was fifteen and had to get out of sports due to the severity of the injury. But I had an amazing PT that helped me through the healing process, and I decided I wanted to get into the same line of work. I worked my butt off and did just that. And here I am."

Your food came then and you both decided to eat a few bites before continuing on with your conversation.

However, you didn't notice the car in the street drive by extremely slowly, a pair of blue eyes watching you both angrily…

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"I had a great time with you tonight, Y/N," Damian said, walking you to your hotel door.

"I had a great time too," you replied, giving him a shy smile. "It was really nice getting to know you better."

Damian nodded, "Do you want to go out with me again?"

You nodded, a flush creeping up your face, "I do."

"Aaaand… would it be okay to kiss you goodnight?"

You giggled, you couldn't help it. He made you feel like a school girl all over again. "Yes."

He smiled and leaned downward, instantly catching your lips with his, giving you a firm but gentlemanly kiss. No tongue. That was interesting, you thought. Most guys just rammed their tongues down your throat, no questions asked. Damian was full of surprises.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Damian."

With that, he made sure you were safe in your room, before turning and going down the hall to his own room.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

At the next show, the following night, you walked to your makeshift office and was surprised–though not deeply–to find JD standing at your door, waiting on you.

"Hi, JD… What can I do for you?"

His eyes seemed to go dark as he answered you, though he kept up a cheerful appearance. "You could let me take ya out t'night."

"I'm sorry, JD, but no." You said softly, reaching around him to unlock your office door. "I have plans tonight. I've just started seeing someone, and I don't want to discourage them by going out with someone else."

You unlocked the door and stepped into your office, but JD ddin't take the hint. He stepped into the office with you and slammed the door shut to your utter shock, and then locked the door.

"JD, get out." You said, trying to sound firm. "Unlock the door and leave."

"Let me guess, d'a mystery man is none other than Damien. Am I right? I saw ya together at d'a restaurant last night."

You tilted your chin up in defiance despite your growing trepidation. "That's none of your business. Now leave, before I scream for help."

Growing enraged, JD stepped forward and swept his hand along the surface of your desk, raking everything to the floor. Then he pounded his fist against the desk, hard. "I asked ya out too! You should be going out with me!"

"I didn't want to," your voice rose in your indignation. "You make my skin crawl!"

JD charged at you then and slapped you right across the cheek. Stunned, you fell across the desk and held your throbbing face in your hand.

"You're so in trouble now," he growled, unbuttoning his dress shirt from the collar, then undoing the wrist's buttons.

Not knowing exactly what he had planned, but not wanting to find out, you screamed, "Help me! Somebody HELLLLP!"

You knew that you were heard when the buzzing outside your door stopped. Suddenly there was a pounding at the door.

"Y/N? Cariña, open the door!"

You rose from the desk to make a mad dash for the door, when JD latched onto your hair. "LET ME GO!"

The door was being pummeled then. "Who's in d'ere wit' her?" You heard Finn Balor faintly from behind the door.

Then Damian, "JD. It has to be. The little…"

JD ignored the bustle outside the door and bent you backward over the desk. Immediately, his mouth was on your neck.

"STOP IT!" You cried loudly, and struggled against him. He yanked your head back by your bangs, severely arching your back, and bit into your neck. You screamed in pain and fought him even more.

The pounding at the door intensified as JD licked where he bit.

"NO!" You screamed and managed to claw JD's face. He let out a furious roar of pain as he punched you square in the jaw.

Your head bounced back from the blow just as the door busted open and Damian and the rest of the Judgeement day and some policemen came bustling into the room.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Damian roared at JD, seeing the predicament you were in.

He lunged at JD and tackled him away from you, his face contorted in his rage.

The police stopped Damian before he could get more than a punch in, but a hard punch nonetheless.

You lay against the desk, scrambling to right yourself and fighting tears as the police handcuffed JD and prepared to drag him away from the scene.

Damian went to you, instantly pulling you into his strong embrace as JD was led away. Your legs weren't strong enough to hold you up and buckled. You fell in a dead faint as he caught you up in his arms, cradling you against his muscled chest. He immediately carried you over to the exam table and laid you on it, settling the pillow underneath your head.

"Despierta, cariña. Estás a salvo ahora." His long fingers traced the already formed bruising at your jaw, rose up to the welt forming on your cheek. He also took note of the bite mark on your neck. "I want to kill him."

"Rhea grabbed a bottle of water out of the mini fridge and handed it to Damian. Finn and Dom fumbled around the medical supplies looking for smelling salts. When they finally located them, they handed them over to Damian as well. He snapped them open and waved them frantically under your nose, willing you to awaken.

You jumped awake and before your eyes even opened, your first instinct was to fight. So you did. You swung your arms out and struck out at anything that was around you.

"Hey, easy now," came Damian's soft voice. His large, warm hands caught your wrists and gently held on. "Easy, baby. You're safe."

You sobbed and latched onto him, hooking your arms around his broad shoulders as he pulled you into a close, intimate hug.

"Shh-shh… You're okay. You're okay now."

"I-I was so scared!" You couldn't stop crying to save your life. You felt another hand rubbing your back comfortingly–probably Rhea.

"I know pequeña, I know. But you're safe now. I won't let him hurt you again. I swear it."

Hunter hurried through the door then. "I just heard about what happened…" His attention turned to you in Damian's arms. "Y/N, are you okay?"

You nodded slightly and snuggled closer into Damian's hold. His chin rested atop your head. "I'm okay now."

The police asked you so many questions your head spun but you managed to answer them all. Then you were finally free to leave and go back to your hotel room. Hunter had given you the rest of the night off–and the rest of the week if you needed it.

You went to move off the table, but Damian kept a hand on your arm to guide you. When you threatened to crumple again, he lifted you up and carried you out of the room, and all the way to his rental. Once he had you settled in the passenger's seat he turned back to the rest of the Judgement Day who'd followed him to his car. "Can one of you guys get my things out of the locker room and take them by my room? I'm staying with Y/N tonight."

Dom nodded in reply and said, "Sure, don't worry. I got this. You go take care of your girl."

With that, Damian got into the driver's seat and drove the two of you back to the hotel.

He carried you inside, and followed your directions as to where your room was. Minutes later, he was settling you on your large bed and was climbing in beside you.

"Is this okay, amor? Do you want me here, or do you want me to sleep on the sofa?"

"Here!" You cried, pulling him against you. "Don't leave me."

"I won't. I'll be right here. Just relax and get some sleep."

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, cariña?"

"He'd been hitting on me for weeks. I should have told someone–you. I kept putting him off but he kept asking me out. He wouldn't take no for an answer."

"It isn't your fault, sweetie. It was all him. He…has issues. But none of this was your fault."

"Thank you. For being here. For saving me. I don't know what would have happened if you'd not shown up when you did."

A tear spilled out of one of your eyes, and Damian wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. "I couldn't let him hurt you." He leaned forward, lightly kissing away your tears. "I could fall in love with you."

His lips trailed down with a feather lightness to your mouth. He captured your lips with his and applied a soft pressure. When you didn't protest, he pulled you even closer and kissed you more deeply, gently slipping his tongue past your lips and tasting your mouth fully. You moaned softly, and encouraged him to continue by curling your fingers into his muscled biceps. Finally, he pulled back, only to find that he couldn't get enough of your taste, and moved in for another kiss. And another. Another.

"I could fall in love with you too," you uttered softly between his kisses that travled down to your neck. He gently kissed the place that JD had bitten so roughly, a show of tenderness.

"He'll never touch you again. Ever."

You smiled softly and snuggled closer against him as sleep overcame you.

THE END

Translations:

"Cariña" ~ "Sweetheart" "Eres tan estúpido!" ~ "You're so stupid!" "Despierta, cariña. Estás a salvo ahora." ~ "Wake up, sweetheart. You're safe now." "Pequeña" ~ "Little one"

If you want on my tag list, just ask! 😀

Tagging:

@oreillystolemyheart @lookalivesunshine-x @shortyiceheart @vebner37 @claymorexpunisher @kalliravenne @swamptrashwithasideofsass @beardedbarba @emisrose @sweetpea-1970 @sassymox @pikapuff-316 @heavymetalgirl420 @bigpsychicbagelauthor @darktammy @waywardwrestlewritingwaif @sultryfandoms @blondekel77 @demonqueen29 @amariemoore @letsgivethisonemoreshot @thelastemzy @springgirlwaiting4fall @vampirepixi @wwenhlimagines @louisianalady @swthrt890 @librathepheonix13 @justanerdwholikestoread @kiwiedge @ironshamelessyouth @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @moxkindagirl @jstarr86 @oliviasinematic @southerngirl41 @claymoresofinfamy23

#Damian Priest #Damian Priest Imagine #Damian Priest X Reader #Damian Priest Fan fic #Damian Priest Fan Fiction

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