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sherifftillman · 1 year

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I Want Your Video

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Stranger Things (series), 18+ (minors DNI), modern!au, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, pulling out, overstimulation, mentions of anal, filming a sex tape, mentions of reader being cheated on

Summary: You had to make your ex pay for what he did, to you and his former fellow Hellfire party member. There's only one person that can truly help you with that.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: Good news, gang! Turns out, I actually do remember how to write anything other than Busy Streets and Busy Lives!

Waving at Wayne as his car passes yours on his way out of the trailer park puts your mind at ease. That's one potential barrier out of the way. The other is whether or not your potential other party agrees to your little plan.

You didn't participate too much in your ex's Hellfire Club stuff because campaign time was campaign time only, and unless you were summoned to stand in for someone, you weren't a part of this story's main adventuring party. Nonetheless, you'd developed your own camaraderie with the group - especially the only regular female player.

Which is why it was all the more heartbreaking to see the screenshots of your then-boyfriend's attempts to slide into her DMs. Watching him gaslight her into believing that she was misreading his messages as being flirtatious, despite them definitely being so, hurts enough. Your heart sinks to the floor when you see the photos he'd sent. You know pretty well what his own dick looks like and that's definitely what he sent her. Completely unsolicited. Judging by the timestamp and the sheets beneath him, he even took those while you were asleep next to him.

You needed to make him regret doing that for the rest of his pathetic little life. You needed to hit him where it would hurt most.

And so, you knock three times on Eddie Munson's door. He greets you warmly, but there's an air of sympathy to him. "Hey. Um, I just want you to know, right off the bat, that shitbag's never, ever setting foot near the table again. Next session, his character's getting killed off in the most humiliating way I can come up with, and I totally get if you don't want to, but we'd need a full-time stand-in -"

"I didn't come here to talk D&D, Eddie," you cut him off, and his brow furrows.

"Well, if it's emotional support you're after, then I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm not of any use there."

"Not that, either," you shake your head. "I - I don't want anything to do with that asswipe ever again, but I still wanna make him pay." You start pacing the expanse across Eddie's living space. "I mean, sure, I dumped his ass, but he'll feel no remorse from that, he didn't care enough about me to stay loyal. I need to really stick a dent in his pride. I need it to come from someone he really admires." You look at Eddie hopefully.

He shrugs, "Sure, I'll teach that bastard a lesson. What do you have in mind?"

You take a deep breath in. "Well, if he's going to send dick pics without remorse… I was thinking… You and I go one better and send him a - a video. If that's okay with you."

Eddie feels as though all his Christmases have come at once. He'd always found it tough tearing his eyes away from you with your boyfriend mere feet away. He wanted to sucker-punch the sense back into him when he'd learned what your ex had done. But this? So much better.

Rubbing his jaw, Eddie nods. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can do that." He gestures for you to follow him to his room, which you do. "My phone, or yours?"

You contemplate, "Yours. It'll sting more coming from you."

Eddie nods, setting his phone on a surface close to the bed and setting up the right angle. "So, clothes already off, clothes on? Anything definitely off the table, or on it?"

"Clothes off, I want it to pack a punch the moment he hits play," you direct, and Eddie nods, throwing his shirt off. You knew there was more ink beyond his forearms, you'd seen little peekaboo moments of the artwork adorning his body, but seeing them all out in the open, as though he's an open sketchbook, captivates you. He's obviously watching you stare at each one as he smugly swivels himself around to show you all of them at all angles. You continue, "Um, how do you feel about… Not wearing - I promise, the video will stop before any completion happens, I'm not here to get knocked up or anything," you quickly explain, to Eddie's amusement.

"Yeah, I'll fuck you raw." Something about the way he casually purrs that as a smirk tugs at the left corner of his lips sends a buzz through your nervous system that settles at your core. "Anything else?"

"Um… He never really liked… Going dow-"

"Oh my god, of course he didn't," Eddie interrupts. "But he'd have you -?" You nod. "Disgraceful."

"And even though I would always ask him to, he wouldn’t talk dirty to me. So maybe if he saw that in action?"

"Oh, fuck yes, doll, you are speaking my language," Eddie grins. "We talking praise, degrading, narration? How rough do you want me?"

"Honestly, go nuts. I'm all good for all of it. In terms of the talk… I'm good with any as long as it's not humiliating me, but the more possessive, the better."

"Hmmm, you better get those clothes off and that camera started, baby, or else I might get ahead of myself." Eddie shuffles out of his jeans and palms himself over his boxers as he watches you strip to your underwear with great intent.

You both silently agree to strip down your last layer at the same time, getting all of the awkwardness out of the way. You're in awe of his cock, stood of its own accord even before he starts stroking himself at the sight of you. You chew your lower lip as you watch in fascination and he grins, "You gonna at least hit record before I end up coming all over my hand?"

You hop onto Eddie's bed, feet swinging above the floor as you ask, "Where do you want me, Mr Director?"

Eddie glances over at his phone screen, smirks, and taps it before striding over to you, pulling you into position by your legs, and throwing one over his shoulder. Pushing the other one out, you realise to get a good angle of it for the camera, he sweeps his hair to one side and makes quick work of snaking his tongue inside of you.

Your fingers card through his hair and grip tightly, and he hums with approval against your core as his nose nuzzles at your clit. "Is that good, baby?" he purrs between licks, and you nod. He surfaces, shaking his head. "Use your words, sweet thing."

You swallow hard. "Y-yeah, so good."

"Mmm, that's my good girl, doing as she's told, c'mere," he grips your thighs tightly as he laps back and forth at your clit. You sit yourself up at an angle to watch him yourself, the way he looks so lustfully as he goes to town on you. He blindly holds his hand up to you, wiggling two fingers specifically, and you take his wrist to aim them into your mouth. He moans as you suckle and lick his fingers, "Oh, fuck yeah, such an obedient little slut. Taste so good, and so good with your mouth, fuck, I can't wait to wear you around my fucking cock."

You whine, "Please?"

He chuckles, "Patience, sweetheart. I've a feeling you need to get stretched out before you can take me."

"You're so big," you moan wistfully as you fall back onto your elbows, and you feel Eddie's toothy grin press against you as he angles himself enough to slide two long fingers inside of you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your hand grips his hair tighter and he moans delightfully around you. "Fuck, Eddie, feel so good, I can't - I need to -"

Eddie resurfaces to rest his head against your thigh, gently sinking his fingers into you and stretching them apart before pulling them out to do the same thing over and over again. "So soon, baby?" he croons. "Getting your sweet little cunt eaten gets you this fired up?" You nod, and while Eddie wants to scold you again for not speaking, he's enamoured by the face you make when you're turned on. Eyes half-lidded, lips shiny and just-parted, chest heaving. He hasn't even played with your tits, yet. Fuck, he's barely gotten started with you and you're already a mess under his hand.

"Please?" is all you can think to say as his fingers curl inside you, making you mewl out loudly.

"Fussy girl wants to come already?" he asks in that crooning voice again, and you nod. Eddie pulls away from you entirely, grinning at your despair, and gets up to straddle you from behind, pressing an oddly gentle kiss to your forehead as he does so. Once he's sat with his legs draped either side of you and his chest flush against your back, he takes one of your breasts into his hand to massage it as the other hand reaches down to rub fast, deliberate circles against your clit. His lips press kisses all along your throat as you cry out for him. His voice is low, breathy, but still loud enough to be recorded as he asks, "Fuck, yes, who do you belong to, huh?"

"You, Eddie," you moan, turning your head to try and face him as you say it, feeling your orgasm start to build faster than you've ever been able to muster yourself.

"Mmm, and who does this pussy belong to?" he asks before sucking a big, dark bruise onto the base of your neck. He feels your neck start to crane again and hums an uh-uh against your skin, pulling his head up to purr into your ear, "Don't tell me, baby." He pulls his hand away from teasing at your nipples to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pushing your face around until you're facing his phone. "Tell him."

You look down the camera lens, moaning as Eddie sucks on your earlobe, the hand on your face now sliding down to wrap around your throat as the fingers on your clit work it faster. "It's all - shit, my pussy's all yours, Eddie. No- Nobody else makes it feel - this good, not even me, please," you falter into a plea at the end as you feel the crescendo looming.

"Damn right she belongs to me, and she wants me so bad, doesn't she?" His hand leaves your clit momentarily to dip down and coat his fingers in your thick juices. When he brings them up to your lips, the hand that had been so gently pushing against the pressure points in your throat falls to resume working your clit as you once again suck on his fingers. "Look at her, she's crying out for me, so desperate for it, can't wait to - to squeeze herself all over my thick cock as I fuck you the way you deserve, right? The way I've wanted to since I first saw you?" You make a small noise of intrigue around his fingers and Eddie chuckles, "That's right, sweetheart, but that's not why we're here, is it? We're here so you can come for me without me even needing to be inside you, aren't we? You're gonna show him what you really look like when you're satisfied, aren’t you?"

Still looking at Eddie's phone, your walls clench over absolutely nothing as your climax finally washes over you. Eddie continues to kiss and suck across your neck as he slows his attack on your clit and pushes the fingers in your mouth gently in and out as they muffle your moans.

"Fuck, yes, baby," he groans into your ear, "that was incredible."

Pulling down on his wrists until his fingers leave your mouth with a satisfying pop that you really hope the mic picked up, you lean back against Eddie and reach up to play with his hair. "Wanna watch me suck you off, now?" You ask with a coy grin.

Eddie bites his lip, "Any other time, absolutely. But right now, I need you sat on my dick and facing me so I can watch that pretty little face of yours as I make you cum over and over again. Why should he get all the fun of seeing that, huh?"

You squirm as you move yourself around to straddle him, pressing your forehead to his and mumbling, "You really ought to keep the dirty talk more believable, you know."

He frowns as his arms slide up and down your sides, cradling you, "You doubt my talents, sweetheart? You wound me."

"It takes an awful lot for me to get there, usually," you admit quietly, "even once."

"And look at you now," he smirks at the same volume. "Ready for me?" he asks as he reaches between you both to angle his cock away from where it rests against his torso. You nod eagerly, hovering up onto your knees and moving with him. Slightly louder, he grins, "I didn't hear you, ba- oh my fuck," he groans out as you sink down onto him without warning. "Oh, fussy girl can't wait, huh? God, you're fucking loving this dick, arent you, baby, huh?" he croons as he watches your face contort with pleasure as you lower yourself further and further until you're sat with him fully inside you.

With his arms wrapped tightly around you, and your hands on his shoulders to keep you in place, he leans in to kiss you openly, his tongue instantly seeking yours. You grind yourself against him while he's buried in you, moaning into the kiss at the feeling. "Fu-uuuck, Eddie," you moan. "Tell - tell me more - first time you saw -"

"Mmm, the first time I saw you?" he asks, reaching down between you again to rub your clit in gentle circles. "You walked in with him. Wearing a cute little dress, but you had a shirt on under it so I missed out on these," he gropes at your breasts. "Hmm, but fuck, I wanted you to stay. Wanted that cute little mouth sucking me off while he played just across the table. Wanted to feel that cute little ass of yours as I bent you over the table and fucking railed you."

You whine, "You wou- you'd fuck my ass?"

Eddie lets out his loudest moan yet, bucking up further into you. "Fuck, I didn't mean that, but if you'd let me, baby, any day of the fucking week. But I gotta take care of my pussy first, don't I? She's being so good to me," he purrs as he fucks you deeper. "I think - we've put on enough of a show, don't you?" he asks as he blindly reaches for his phone, angling it at both of your faces. "I don't think he deserves to watch you come over my dick. Say goodbye, sweetheart."

You look at the camera, smile coyly and turn to Eddie to lean in and bite his lower lip, both of you chorusing low chuckles to each other as he cranes his phone around to hit the stop button.

Reality crashes down on you as you realise it's all over now. That video was the reason you showed up. That was what he agreed to do. He notices your hesitation as he throws his phone aside and quickly swings you both around so that you now lay beneath him. You'd been so focused on making a good sex tape, you had barely paid attention to Eddie himself until now. Eyes blown black, his hair and his guitar pick chain dangling between the two of you, a light sheen of sweat showing against his dark ink. But by far the hottest thing of all about him was the sheer, primal hunger in his gaze.

"I hope you didn't think we were done yet, princess," he coos. "Now I get to really focus on you."

Not letting his gaze leave yours, he aims his cock inside of you once again, taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers before fucking into you deeply.

Your back arches as he fills you, and you moan his name, to his delight. Before long, you're begging and whining again, your fingers clenching tighter against his. "Gonna come for me, baby? Fuck, tell me again, who owns you?"

"You - you do, Eddie," you moan, your hips squirming beneath him.

"Damn right, I do. Just like I said, I'll make you come over and over again. Do it, baby, come for me."

That euphoric feeling returns, but tenfold as you feel yourself tighten around his member. He slides it in and out of you gently as you work through your climax, but it's short lived as he climbs further onto the bed to line himself up with your chest, wrapping a wide, rough hand around his cock as he pumps it, sending warm spurts of thick cum flying against your breasts as he throws his head back and moans gutturally.

Looking down at yourself, then back up at him, you ask, exhausted, "G'me y'r phone, please."

He slowly hands it to you, confused, and you get up to kneel on the bed right in front of him, taking one of his hands and holding it up to your throat until he gets the hint to hold onto it himself, and then doing the same for the other arm, guiding it between your legs.

You swipe onto his camera, flip it to the front one, and set the phone down so that it only starts showing from your nose downwards, making sure that the bruises on your neck, and the cum on your chest aren't obscured. Setting a timer, you smile slyly as one photo takes. You take another with you biting your lip, and Eddie gets in on making sure you take one where he's kissing your neck amongst the hickey.

But Eddie lets go of your throat for a moment to switch the camera back to video mode, mutter in your ear, "You keep this right here, 'kay, baby?" and hit record right as the hand between your legs once again starts rubbing your clit with a lot more fervor than before.

Just as the timer starts recording, Eddie's grip around your throat tightens and you cry out silently, just about managing to squeak out a, "S-so - sensi- so much."

"I know it's sensitive, baby, that just means it'll be quick," Eddie promises, keeping his lips close to your ear, still in shot of the camera. "But I promised you, didn't I?" He drags two fingers across your drenched thighs, "After you already came for me, I promised it would happen again," he wipes one finger against your lower lip, "and again," he adds as he wipes the other there, too.

You groan, "Fuck, don't know - 'f I c'n take-"

Eddie shushes you, "Of course you can, baby. Your pussy's mine now, remember? And I already know her so well. Fuck, I can't wait to give you so much more. Did you mean it, sweetheart, when you asked me to fuck you in the ass someday?" You nod desperately, whining and keening against his touches. "Good, because I most certainly plan on having a lot of fun with my new cocksleeve. Have you be my new favourite after-gig tradition, where I get to go offstage and fill all your holes." You squirm against him, grinding your bare ass against him. "Mmm, afraid I'm not quite the free-use fucktoy you are, doll, that's not gonna work on me just yet," he drawls.

"Ple-ease, need to need, fuck -"

"What's that, baby? You need to come again? Oh, but I thought it was so hard to get you there. Remember that when I send you this video and you watch it back, okay, sweetheart? Remember who makes you feel this good. Remember who fucking owns you."

"'s you, Eddie, fuck, I'm -" you scream out in ecstasy as a third orgasm travels entirely across your nervous system, filling your entire body with a high like you've never experienced before. With a grin, Eddie leans over to once again stop his recording and gently lay you down onto his bed.

"Stay right here, okay, doll? Gonna get you all cleaned up."

You nod, mumbling, "Don't think - I can go anywhere else anyway."

Eddie chuckles under his breath, moving to kiss your forehead and then your lips before making his way to the bathroom.

He returns moments later with several warm, damp washcloths and fresh towels, and takes great care in mopping up your thighs and your chest, in major contrast from the Eddie you'd just experienced.

Once you're clean, he lays himself to curl up next to you on the bed and pull you in to spoon him, pulling his pillows down to where the two of you lay in the centre of the bed so he could place one under your head. You hum in happiness as he presses kisses to your shoulder. "You were fucking amazing, back there, sweetheart. A goddamn natural."

"Having such a good co-star certainly helped," you smirk back.

"An', y'know. I don't want to put any pressure on you, 'cause what you're going through is a whole thing, but you know most of that was just talk for the camera, and that I see you as way more than a fucktoy, right?"

You pout, "So I'm not gonna be?"

He chuckles, kissing between your shoulder blades. "I didn't say that, did I? Just that… This is casual, and awesome, but I don't want you to think that I only did this to have sex. I did it to have it with you. And I'm down to be… Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, a rebound, whatever it is you need. 'Kay?"

You squeeze his arm around you a little tighter in thanks. You know you're certainly not ready for any kind of relationship again just yet. But who's to say that you can't have fun in the meantime? Maybe this goes further. Maybe it doesn't. All you know is, as you watch with glee as you watch Eddie send the first video to your ex, and then set his favourite of the photos you took as his home screen, you definitely made the right choice tonight.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #fic: eddie m #*myfics

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comradekatara · 2 months

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aang and sokka have by far the most underrated dynamic in atla. they’re very cute and silly together, but they’re also insane. like, aang’s central tension concerns refusing to let his values be shaped by war and the imperialist logic of his oppressors, whereas sokka’s entire value system has been defined by war, by his experience as a colonized subject. in many ways, the ultimate tragedy of aang’s character, that he may become too cynical to appreciate his cultural values of joy, friendship, freedom, harmony, and peace, is the tragedy that he might someday become what sokka already is.

if aang is a force for good in sokka’s life, showing him how to play, to appreciate living in the moment and connecting with others, then sokka is quite literally a corrupting influence. “there, that’s how it’s done,” he says, and you know he’s not just posturing, because you’ve already seen him kill people before without remorse. sokka is aang’s big brother, his friend, his protector. he plays his games, makes him laugh, shows him kindness and undying loyalty. but he is also everything that aang must constantly strive to never become. he is a ruthless tactician, a hyperlogical cynic, a killer.

sokka would do anything to survive and protect his loved ones against the cruelty of the world. so he chastises aang for refusing to kill, for being soft and idealistic. he in fact almost kills aang after he accidentally hurts katara. while aang can never let himself sink into despair, to adopt the colonial mindset of his oppressors, to close off his heart to hope and feeling, sokka already has. yes, aang shows him joy and friendship and the potential for freedom, but in truth, it’s too late for him. and perhaps if katara cannot retrieve her brother’s humanity, his very soul, from the hollow shell of who he has since become, she has a second chance now, with aang.

#i have an even longer post about this in my drafts if you can believe it #but like. they’re so crazzyyyy #real ones know the best aang&sokka episodes are the deserter the siege of the north the serpents pass (!!!!!!!!) and sozins comet #aang&sokka #aang #sokka #katara&sokka #aang&katara #analysis #god 😭😭#the way aang represents who she wishes sokka COULD be just breaks my heart #SHE JUST WANTS A FRIEND SHE CAN PLAY WITH!!!!!!#fucicuccuucucjkkkk !!!

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feeder86 · 8 days

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Train to Gain

“I want to get jacked!” Jay declared, standing in front of his new personal trainer with his chest puffed out.

Matt nodded, having heard the same thing many times from plenty of guys like Jay, in their early twenties. “Okay, so we’re aiming for muscle gains,” he clarified, making a note of it. “Is there a reason why you want to make this your focus?” he asked, seeing from Jay’s body that he already had a pretty good build that most guys would have been envious of.

Jay nodded. “I’ve just split up with a girl I’ve been with since high school,” he stated without a drop of remorse or sorrow. “I feel like I want to finally do something for myself. You know what I mean? I want to look good. Muscular. Lean.”

Matt nodded. So, just like all the other guys, this one believed that getting more muscle on him would help him score with the ladies. He didn’t need a PhD to crack that little mystery about the boy’s true intention. It was a tale as old as time itself.

Being so muscular himself, guys like Jay seemed to gravitate towards Matt on an almost daily basis, knowing that he could deliver the results they wanted. They saw his statuesque physique in the gym and felt that working out with a guy as built as he was was akin to ordering that body type for themselves in a catalogue. But Matt was not convinced by this latest client. Jay was a pretty-looking boy, with large soulful eyes and a gentle innocence about him. He wouldn’t be single for long. Some girl would come along, snap him up, and this whole muscle workout craze would be a thing of the past for him.

Nevertheless, Matt settled down to a detailed conversation about what it would take, the commitment Jay would need to make and the amount of sessions he would arrange with him each week. It was obvious that Jay had all the enthusiasm for his goals, but little knowledge of how to actually get there. “We’ll take things slow to begin with,” he smiled. “Then we’ll see how we get on.”

Seeming pleased, Jay shook Matt’s hand and threw his workout bag over his shoulder to leave. Then, as Jay was walking out of the gym, Matt watched as the eyes of every woman in there drifted towards his cute, tight glutes in his fitted gym shorts. Matt chuckled, nodding knowingly. It may have been Jay’s first time being single in his adult life, but it wouldn’t take the pretty boy long to work out that he didn’t need any more muscle to get women. Three weeks, maximum, Matt predicted. There was no way Jay would be paying for his services for longer than that; not when he didn’t need to.

Matt was aware that he was in the minority when it came to enjoying those winter months. But as the holidays came and went, he jumped out of bed with a renewed spring in his step, knowing that the gym would be fit to bursting with chubby, overweight and under-exercised guys trying to make a fresh start for the New Year. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly it was that he loved about them so much: that doughy shape, the jiggle of fat as they strolled on the treadmills. Maybe it was the way their sweat made their tight gym clothes stick to their rounded bodies . Matt was both mesmerised and fascinated by it all at the same time.

It was around this time of year that he had met his now ex-boyfriend who had been trying to lose a few pounds back then. He’d copped a lot of crap from his colleagues at the gym for dating someone so big, and he’d had to challenge them multiple times for their attitudes towards the match. So what if he was into bigger guys? Whose business was it who he dated? Certainly not theirs. Not that any of it mattered in the end. Nine months in and the whole relationship had fallen apart anyway. His heart broken, just as they had all been expecting,

“Alright! That was pretty good!” Matt marvelled a staggering twelve weeks later, as Jay successfully squatted his biggest weight yet. He slapped the guy on his shoulder and passed him his water. “You’re killing it!” he smiled encouragingly.

“But I don’t look any different yet,” Jay grumbled, repeating the same complaint that had surfaced again and again in their recent sessions. “Sure, I’m a little stronger, but not much.”

“We’re taking it slow, remember,” Matt stated calmly. “You were quite clear from the start that you wanted to add muscle the lean way. It just takes a little more time.”

“But what’s the alternative?” Jay asked.

“Proper bulking,” Matt replied. “You give your body all the calories it needs to grow. We discussed this in our first meeting, remember?” he explained, a little exasperated. “You were insistent. You wanted a lean muscle bulk.”

“I want to be bigger,” Jay shot back.

“If you go with the bulking option, you’d have to accept the fact that not all of the gains you make would be muscle,” Matt tried to clarify.

“But I saw this guy online…” Jay began, rambling yet again about some viral influencer who claimed to know it all about how to get ripped with ease.

Matt bit his tongue. He genuinely liked Jay, but he was fed up of trying to debunk all of the insane fitness myths clients came in with these days. He was only twenty seven, and yet he wondered how much longer he could stand to do this job when there was so much misinformation out there. “Look, let’s just try it,” he suggested forcefully, cutting Jay off mid sentence. “I’ll set you up with a bulking plan and we’ll see what happens. If you’re not happy after a couple of weeks, you can fire me and send all your money to those online fitness con artists instead,” he stated plainly.

Still not seeming overly convinced, Jay nodded. “Okay. We’ll try this your way…”

“So, have you got much planned for your week off?” Matt asked Jay a good few weeks later. He’d found that he didn’t struggle with small talk as much with Jay as he did some of his other clients. They seemed to share the same sense of humour and had successfully recommended more than one decent TV show to each other in the past.

“I’m going to a wedding,” Jay answered, sitting himself back ready to lift.

“A wedding, huh?” Matt asked, loading on the weights ready. “That’s a great place to meet girls,” he said, finding it bizarre that Jay was still single after all this time.

“Not a chance!” Jay chuckled, lifting his hands up to grab the bar. “I told you, I’m done with all that.”

“Whatever you say!” Matt chuckled back; his eyes catching sight of Jay’s stomach as the guy’s t-shirt rose, ready for the lift. He could tell that the bulking diet was well underway, with a padded thickness around Jay’s middle, bulging to the sides to form what many might consider the beginnings of love handles.

Jay lifted like never before. After one set he insisted that Matt make the bar even heavier again; grunting with the extreme effort it took.

“You did it!” Matt marvelled, finally setting the bar back minutes later. “I can’t get over how quickly you’re progressing now.”

Jay sat up, spreading his legs wide and owning the space he was in. It was a feeling Matt knew all too well: the sense of power and size after lifting more than ever before. “This bulking is really working, isn’t it?” Jay smiled.

“It is!” Jay nodded, trying to mask his surprise at just how much more noticeable Jay’s extra thickness was around his waist when he sat up like this. There was no way the guy was going to stick out the full bulking period; the boy seemed genetically predisposed to carry a tight little paunch at this size. Already Matt could sense the cut was on the horizon.

Once again, Matt’s predictions fell flat on their face. As more weeks went by, Jay was very quickly becoming one of Matt’s strongest clients. However, it was all coming at quite a cost to the guy’s naturally athletic physique. Built around a solid core, Jay’s chunky middle was rounded and significantly paunch-like in appearance, despite being somewhat muted by the large chest and muscular shoulders that had grown alongside it. If Jay had been going for that muscular V-shaped back, he had fallen far short of the mark. His stout tummy had swelled out his love handles to a size that could not be hidden by pretty much any of the t-shirts that he wore in the gym. Matt had even seen the guy out and about upon occasion, feeling shocked at just how thick and overfed he actually looked; especially with that meaty swagger he had about him, artificially pushing out his arms to increase his width.

“And, we’ll finish with twenty minutes on the treadmill,” Matt declared during their next session, waiting for the exhausted guy to sluggishly pick himself up off the weight machine.

“The treadmill?” Jay asked, as if Matt had been joking. “I’m not paying for you to watch me on the treadmill for twenty minutes,” he laughed.

“You do realise that we’re going to be putting a lot more cardio exercises into your routine from now on? We agreed to start cutting from next week, remember?”

Jay brushed him off, insisting that he could do another set on the machine he was currently on. The rest of the session continued in that manner until the time was depleted. Then a sweaty, beefy looking Jay simply lifted a protein shake to his mouth and began chugging.

“What’s in that thing?” Matt asked, noticing that it was far thicker than any of the recipes he had supplied to Jay. He took it from Jay’s limp hand and held it to his nose. “That’s so sweet!” he gasped, recoiling slightly. Swirling the remaining third in the bottle, Matt declared with absolute certainty that this was not part of the diet plan he had given Jay.

“I found the recipe online,” Jay shot back, snatching the shake back and draining it quickly. “I drink four of these daily. Your shake recipes were good, but I wasn’t packing on the muscle half as quickly as I am now.”

Matt winced. Jay had been heading in the wrong direction for weeks now; his muscle gains overshadowed by significant increases in fat. And Matt had been ignoring it all, pushing it to the back of his mind, denying it. “Have you got the recipe for me to look at?” he asked diplomatically.

Jay lazily held out his hand for Matt to pass him his cell phone from his bag. Then, after a couple of seconds, the webpage link came buzzing through to Matt.

“Um…” Matt mumbled, feeling his heart beating with worry. “Have you really been drinking these four times a day? Did you not think to check out the ingredients? All that sugar? Condensed milk?”

“I’m not an idiot!” Jay grumbled back, as Matt noticed the fat that was starting to build up under the handsome boy’s chin and into his cheeks. “These things promise results and they deliver. I’ve gained 25 lbs in the last two months alone!”

Matt took a step back, feeling that he had let Jay down more than any other client he had ever had. Yet, somewhere deep inside of him was a spark of attraction. Jay was starting to look genuinely fat. It was literally spreading across his entire body and had been doing so for weeks. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled guiltily. “I should have been more on top of your diet planner. This should never have happened.”

Jay seemed utterly perplexed by Matt’s remorse, but he agreed to pack up his stuff and head out to a local cafe for a more thorough debrief. They sat with two coffees at a small table near the front as Matt considered how best to insist that Jay quit the shakes as soon as possible.

Matt thought he had his speech all ready to go. He inhaled, ready to begin, when he suddenly noticed that Jay’s attention was elsewhere. A large, overweight guy had come in through the door, making Jay look across with interest. Matt followed his gaze and then cringed with regret, realising that the man was none other than his ex boyfriend, Chris. They had just made eye contact.

“I’m really sorry about this!” Matt blasted out, realising that his almost 400 lb ex was heading over to the table and there was nothing that he could do to stop him.

“Hello Matt,” the large bellied guy smiled. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah,” Matt nodded, not looking directly at him in the hopes that he would soon get the message and leave them be. “Nice to see you, Chris,” he lied.

“I gained a bit of weight recently,” Chris went on, patting his fat stomach. “I’d love to show you some time.”

“I’m actually with a client right now!” Matt hissed, losing patience. “When I said that things were over between us, I meant it.”

Chris looked down at them both, giving Jay in particular the most filthy of looks. Then he turned, deciding that the coffee house was no good after all and disappeared out of the door.

“Who was that?” Jay exclaimed the second the guy’s large form had disappeared beyond the windows.

“My ex,” Matt sighed, feeling frustrated that they should bump into each other here; whilst he was with a client no less! “We broke up about eight months ago.”

“You? And HIM?” Jay asked in disbelief, making it hard for Matt to tell whether it was the fact that he dated guys that most surprised Jay, or the sheer size of that ex-boyfriend. Either way, it became the focus of a long line of questions that Matt was finding difficult to deflect.

“I’ve made a decision,” Jay finally declared as they at last got off the topic of Matt’s love life. “I want to keep the bulk going for another six weeks.”

“I would very strongly advise against that,” Matt replied immediately.

“Six more weeks!” Jay laughed, as if he was making the simplest of alterations to their training plan. “It’s nothing! You need to learn to relax, buddy!”

Matt sighed. Perhaps because he was still reeling from coming face to face with Chris again, he did not feel especially inclined to argue. Jay was a client after all, and his wishes had to be respected - even if he was making a choice that Matt knew would make it significantly harder for the guy to get back in shape afterwards.

Just as Matt had anticipated, the weight that poured onto Jay’s body over the coming weeks was nothing more than pure fat. He’d find himself staring at it, having never felt so conflicted in his life. He was attracted by fat on a guy’s body, yes. But Jay was also a client who was confused by all of the bad advice out there and had caught himself up in a pattern of weight gain that was bloating his previously toned body. The sight of it, Matt had to admit, was nothing short of wildly arousing.

“He’s one of yours isn’t he?” asked one of the other trainers as Jay walked in for his training session wearing a t-shirt that was significantly too tight for his bloated torso. The guy braced himself against the wall to stretch out his calves, not realising how much his shirt had ridden up in the process and exposing a good three inches of his new, overfed tummy pushing itself over the waistband.

“Great work, Matt,” sneered Harry, the other male trainer, giving him a sarcastic slow clap as the three of them all watched Jay from a good distance.

Matt wanted to explain how he hadn’t been to blame; how Jay had found bad advice online instead, and was continuing to bulk against his advice. However, there was a strange thrill in not saying anything at all; something that Matt could not explain, even if he tried.

Next, Jay began squatting, spreading his chunky legs wide apart with the good posture that Matt had taught him, then lifting his body up and down. It was a simple move and not at all noteworthy but for the extreme tightness of the shorts he was wearing, pulling the waistband lower and lower at the back, revealing more and more of his butt crack with each dip; thanks in part to the similarly undersized underwear he had on underneath.

“Ugh!” laughed Harry.. “No one wants to see that!”

Matt looked around at the others in the gym. Jay was indeed getting looks of disapproval, and even disgust, for his scandalously tight clothing.

“You need to have a word,” the trainers all agreed. “He’s putting people off. It’s bad for business.”

Matt sighed. He knew what they were saying was right, but how could he even begin a conversation about it to a client who was paying him? Especially one he was starting to crush on in the most inappropriate of ways.

Despite Jay’s confidence on the weights, it was quite clear during that session that the guy wasn’t making as much progress with his lifting than he obviously thought he was. In fact, his lifting had peaked almost two months earlier and there had been minimal successes since then. What had changed was the amount of sweating Jay was doing; leaving the machines with a damp imprint of his overfed rear which Matt wiped down each time. But with the sweating, Jay’s clothing tightened around him even more. Matt didn’t need to see Jay on the scales, he was an expert on every part of his body, knowing exactly how it was altering because he could see it right there, before his very eyes. He had to breathe a little deeper when he felt the arousal getting too much for him. Jay’s butt was pure perfection; shaped by good genes and some decent early muscle gains, but now swelling and widening with the pounds and pounds of fat the guy was amassing.

Jay had been buzzing about his new apartment; finally allowing him to get out of parents’ place. It was going to make bulking a lot easier, he’d declared, making Matt feel uneasy about how much more extreme his client may take things.

“I’ve got boxes and boxes of stuff all over the place,” Jay complained. “I need a good sort out, really. It’s just so easy to dump it all in the closet and forget about it though.”

“That reminds me,” Matt jumped in, seeing an opening and seizing upon it. “I got an email the other day for a good discount on the online shop I use for clothes,” he began, having pondered over how best to approach the clothes issue for the entire hour of their session. “It can be quite hard to find stuff that fits right when you’re a bodybuilder.”

“Tell me about it!” nodded the chubby boy, not sensing the irony in his words in the slightest. “None of my clothes fit properly anymore.”

Matt nodded. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a good lead in to discuss Jay’s dissatisfaction with his clothing and how he shouldn’t really be feeling such tightness around his stomach when he was trying to pack on muscle. As it was, he could feel the eyes of the other trainers on the back of his head. The only task he had to complete was getting Jay out of those ridiculously tight gym clothes. “I use this brand,” he lied, showing Jay the webpage he had just got up on his cell phone. He knew that impressionable guys like Jay wanted to look like him; to have the same confidence and presence. If he recommended a clothes line to them, he was pretty certain they would take it. “With the progress you’ve been making, you could probably get away with the extra large, but the 2XL might suit your needs more if you’re still in the bulking phase. Fast delivery too.”

Jay nodded with interest and took every link that Matt sent him.

“I’ve spoken to him about the clothes,” Matt nodded, seeing the faces of expectation from the other trainers as he went back after the session ended.

“I know it’s tough having to tell a client that they’re getting too heavy,” Harry nodded. “But when he’s spilling out of his clothes like that, enough is enough. It’s time to say something.”

Matt nodded, knowing that Harry was exactly right. But that wasn’t what he had done, was it? He’d sent Jay off believing that he was making ‘progress’ and that he needed to wear clothes suitable for bodybuilders. The reality was anything but. Jay was chubby and out of shape. He’d not done any cardio in… it must have been months! He was a client who kept Matt awake at night with his feelings of guilt. He was letting the guy down, and this latest stunt was his worst sin of all.

It came as no surprise when Jay continued to be obsessed with bulking, even after the third and fourth deadlines for cutting came and went. The small mercy was that Jay was at least dressed better in the gym. With his new clothes, he was starting to look like any other broad, fat guy. His pretty face was still getting him the odd glance from some of the women, but the fatter body underneath was more than enough to ensure that it never progressed into anything more.

“You’ll never guess what I managed to get tickets for!” Jay blasted one Wednesday evening as he came in for his session.

“No way?” Matt grinned, knowing exactly where Jay was going with this. “You got them? But the concert has been sold out for months!”

“They were giving away tickets on the radio. I phoned up, answered some trivia questions live on air with someone else and… they’re mine!” he grinned, clearly delighted with himself.

“Congratulations!” Matt beamed. “I’m so jealous! You’re going to have such a great time!”

“No… WE’RE going to have such a great time,” Jay corrected him. “They asked me on the radio show who I wanted to take with me, and I told them your name. You’re the only person I know who is as obsessed with them as I am. No one else would appreciate it like you would.”

Matt’s initial reaction was to decline. There were many clients who tried to socialise outside of these sessions, but it was almost always unprofessional to do so. However, he had also desperately wanted to see this band since he was eight years old. Plus, he and Jay did genuinely seem to get on pretty well.”

“Can I give you some money for the ticket then?” he asked.

“No, I got them for free,” Jay shot back, shaking his head.

“Well, I’ll drive us then,” Matt tried to compromise, knowing that the concert was a good couple of hours away. “I know where your new place is. I can pick you up at about 4pm on Saturday afternoon?”

Jay nodded, accepting the offer without hesitation. Then, for the rest of the week, Matt was telling all of his clients about the concert and how excited he was. He was amazed that not a single person had heard of the band or even recognised any of the tracks when he played a couple of samples for them on his cell phone. ‘What the hell was wrong with people?’ he thought to himself, highlighting in his mind just how much better he clicked with Jay than anyone else he worked with.

That Saturday, Matt didn’t really know who he was trying to impress as he slipped on his most expensive shirt and left the last three buttons undone to expose part of his strapping chest. He turned up at Jay’s building, expecting to head straight off, but was instead buzzed inside.

“Sorry!” Jay spluttered, opening the door to him, covered with only a small towel around his waist, fresh from the shower. “I had a big lunch and fell asleep! I only woke up ten minutes ago.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Matt nodded, trying to keep his eyes fixed on Jay’s face and not look down to explore his client’s beautifully chubby proportions. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Jay trotted back into his bedroom; his jiggly love handles bouncing with the quick pace he was going at. Matt simply took a deep breath and tried to control the arousal that he felt. He looked around the apartment, coming to one very obvious conclusion: This was the home of a fat guy. It was obvious; from the small armies of empty beer cans, to the carnage of emptied take out containers and pizza boxes. Discarded clothes dotted the space and Matt found himself meandering into the kitchen; his curiosity getting the better of him. He opened the refrigerator and peeked in all of the cupboards as quietly as he possibly could. What he found was far worse than he ever would have imagined: cakes, candy, cookies and several containers of those disastrous protein shakes… Jay had the lot, and then some. The guy was eating like a pig and putting on weight at a frankly alarming rate. Matt tried to breathe deeply again, but this time, the blood rushing towards his groin seemed determined to give him a full on erection.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” Jay smiled moments later, coming out in a shirt that was far too small for his stout little gut. He opened the refrigerator and downed one of his shakes, as was his usual routine at this time. Once again, Matt had to look away. Then, as the last of it drained, Jay lifted his arms and pumped his biceps, now covered in a good layer of pure fat.

The conversation flowed well in the car as the pair listened to a few of the band’s old albums and talked at length about their shared interests.

“If we’ve still got twenty minutes before we need to go in, I’m going to find some food,” Jay declared once they had parked up. He walked slightly ahead as Matt tried to avert his eyes away from the guy’s wide, overfed glutes, barely contained in his overly tight pants. “I absolutely love bulking,” he declared a few minutes later, holding a giant burger in both hands and raising it part way to his mouth. Then, like a genuine glutton, he dropped his head over it and began feasting with his large shoulders hunched forwards.

Matt genuinely did try to enjoy the concert, but he was conscious of trying to hold back an erection the entire time. He wondered why his brain had to be wired up this way. Why couldn’t he just enjoy the music without getting turned on by the significantly chubby guy he had come here with? He’d had to sit for significant periods of the concert with his hands resting over his crotch as Jay danced beside him, arms up in the air and his rounded tummy popping out. It was so humid in there, making Jay glow with a beautiful fat-boy sweat and ensuring that his clothes plastered themselves to his thick body even more than they already were doing.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Jay smiled the moment the lights came up. “How would you like to go backstage?”

Matt couldn’t believe it as he was shaking hands with his idols and chatting away with other fans backstage only minutes later. It truly was an extraordinary night.

“So, how do you guys know each other?” the lead singer asked as he came up to them both at the bar.

“Matt’s my personal trainer,” Jay answered, downing his beer into his bloated belly.

“I can see you’ve got your work cut out for you,” the singer whispered to Matt, tapping him on his strong back in sympathy.

“I’m in the best shape of my life,” Matt went on, clearly a little tipsy. He put his beer down and reached into his tight pocket to pull out his cell phone. “This is me, before I started training,” he declared, passing the singer a picture of him from just under eleven months ago: slim, handsome, athletic.

“And this is you… ‘before’ you started training?” the guy asked, ensuring that he wasn’t misunderstanding.

Jay nodded enthusiastically, raising his chubby arms to flex and simultaneously letting his chubby belly fall out for the umpteenth time that evening.

“Right,” the singer nodded, confused and surprised; possibly wondering if Jay was making some sort of joke. He slapped Matt on the back once more, then headed off to speak to some others.

When Jay asked to stop off for more food on the way back, Matt didn’t feel that he really had the right to refuse him after the night they had had together. However, it was yet another torturous exercise, having to sit next to Jay as he was gorging his fat body on more fries and burgers in the passenger seat. The sounds of his greedy chewing and swallowing were turning on an already stimulated sex drive to even greater extremes.

“I thought he might have been flirting with you,” Jay explained as they discussed their encounter with the lead singer. “The way he kept on tapping you on the back like that.”

“That wasn’t what that was about,” Matt answered simply as he tried to control the boner he was getting, listening to Jay sucking air as he reached the end of his gigantic milkshake.

“You must have people flirting with you all the time, the shape you’re in,” Jay continued, stuffing the last of the fries into his mouth.

Matt took a breath in, wondering how to answer something like that. The answer was yes; he certainly did get a lot of attention from both guys and girls. But, as was being made strikingly clear to him that evening, the types of people he found attractive himself were often quite far from what most would expect.

“You don’t talk much about this sort of stuff, do you?” Jay asked him next after a pause.

“Neither do you,” Matt shot back.

“I’m just out of a long term relationship,” Jay replied grandly.

“Over a year ago!” Matt laughed. “In that case, I can use the same excuse.”

“You mean that huge guy we met in the coffee house that time? You were really into him?”

“I was in love with him, yes,” Matt replied, feeling that the conversation was getting a little too close to the bone now.

“How did he get that big? Was he always fat? Or did he just put on weight as an adult?” Jay pressed on obliviously.

“Combination of both, I expect,” Matt shrugged, trying to think of how to shift the conversation away from his ex.

“Do you think I could ever get as big as he is?” Jay asked.

Matt looked across at Jay in confusion. “Chris wasn’t a weight lifter, y’know?” he stated plainly. “He was probably as weak as a kitten. He was just… very overweight.”

“I just remember him being large,” Jay shrugged. “Guys like that always make me feel a little jealous.”

“There aren’t many people who would be jealous of Chris’ body type,” Matt chuckled, assuming that Jay was making fun.

“I think, if I kept up my protein shakes, I’d have a chance at getting to his sort of size,” Jay pondered aloud.

“I have no doubt that you would,” Matt nodded. “But it wouldn’t be lean muscle, I can promise you that.”

“Do you think it would suit me?” Jay asked playfully back.

Now Matt felt entirely on the backfoot. There was no way to answer the question without incriminating himself somehow. “I guess so,” he mumbled vaguely.

“So, do you think I should give up weight lifting then?” the guy immediately replied..

“I didn’t say that,” Matt countered.

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently. I’ve had a lot more success gaining weight and getting big in other ways, rather than muscle. Maybe I should just focus on that?”

“You know exactly what I’d say to that. I’m a personal trainer!” Matt reminded him. “Of course you’re not supposed to give up weight training and just let yourself get fat.”

“You can be such a square sometimes,” Jay laughed. “You’re so caught up with your diet plans, your nutrition goals and research papers on exercise schedules. You forget that most people don’t care about any of that stuff. It’s all about feeling good in your own body.”

The last fifteen minutes of the journey went by a little smoother, with the conversation naturally evolving into something lighter.

“Want to come in and grab those recipe books you lent me?” Jay asked as they parked up outside his building.

Thinking about another of his clients, Matt nodded keenly. It was more than obvious that Jay had little interest in any of the lean meals in them, so why not pass them on? He followed the guy up the stairs, allowing his brain to fantasise about taking the chubby guy straight into his bedroom. Now that he knew he would be home in twenty minutes and able to release all the pent-up sexual frustration from his evening with Jay, he somehow felt more able to embrace it; gazing with lust at those giant glutes, like round globes of fat, pressed tightly into Jay’s pants as he walked up the stairs ahead of him.

“They’ll be in my closet somewhere,” Jay explained, leading Matt into his bedroom. Inside here, the mess of take out containers continued, making it clear that Jay did just as much of his eating in bed, as he did anywhere else in the apartment. He reached over a pile of boxes and leaned into this closet, presenting Matt with a full view of his wide rear. Matt simply stared at it, swooning.

Jay had to lean in more and more, too lazy to move the boxed out of the way, and grunting from the effort. Matt told him not to worry; that he could get them some other time, but still Jay persevered, leaning even more of his weight onto the boxes at the front. Then, in a split second, they gave way underneath him, sending Jay falling head first into the closet, his legs up in the air.

Matt grabbed at him in a swift rescue, lifting him up and out by pulling him by his waistband and trying to reach his arm in to hold Jay just above his waist. He was a very heavy boy indeed, and not easy to shift, but eventually he came, looking significantly worse for wear. The most stressed buttons on his shirt had popped clean off and his pants had ripped as Matt had tried to pull him up from behind.

“Sorry about that,” Matt mumbled, seeing what a state Jay now looked in his torn clothes. He’d had to pull him at a strange angle to get him back upright and, although he hoped it wasn’t the case, there was a possibility that Jay might have felt the erection in his pants as he was put back on his feet.

Jay flattened his hair and shuffled over to his mirror. His fingers explored the ripped buttons and torn material. There was his little fat belly popping out like never before; his significant fat gains never looking more obvious. The hallmarks of actual obesity starting to shine through.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Matt asked, wondering why Jay was so stunned; his nervousness increasing by the second.

“If I asked you to stay tonight, would you?” Jay asked simply.

“Why do you want me to stay?” Matt asked. “Do you think you’ve hurt yourself?”

Jay did not answer, but simply unbuttoned only the remaining buttons of his shirt and let the material fall to the floor. “Stay,” he repeated, letting Matt’s gaze fall in its entirety upon his bloated, fattened body. “I can tell that you’d like to.”

Matt allowed himself to enjoy the sight. His fingers twitched at his side, desperate to explore and touch. “Do you mean that?” he asked, no longer hiding his interest.

Jay nodded, grabbing a wedge of his own fat. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only person who gets a boner over this stuff.”

Immediately, Matt pulled Jay into a deeply passionate kiss. Their hands began to explore each other and they soon fell, entirely naked onto the unmade bed. Finally, the fizzing sexual tension that had been torturing Matt all night was set free; the fireworks still to come.

Matt woke the next morning as the light began pouring in through Jay’s window. He turned, seeing the bloated boy still resting deeply. Despite his good looks, this wasn’t the sort of thing that Matt ever did. He could count on a single hand how many guys he had slept with in the past, and he could explain how each one of them had eventually ended up breaking his heart.

Jay stirred as Matt made an attempt to get out of bed. “Morning,” he called out. “What a wild night, huh?”

Matt smiled. “Pretty wild, yeah!” he nodded.

“Did I do it okay?” Jay asked sweetly. “I’ve never tried to give a blow job before.”

“You did great!” Matt nodded. “Amazing, in fact,” he added, remembering how quickly they had both climaxed last night. He’d worked on Jay first and then the sweet guy worked his mouth on Matt until he came in less than a minute.

“Could you go and get me my shake out of the refrigerator?” Jay asked next, sitting up. “I forgot to have my last one when we got back yesterday, so I’ll have to make up for it this morning. In fact, bring me two,” he reconsidered. “I’ll get it down now.”

Matt hesitated for a moment. He knew that, officially, as Jay’s trainer, he wasn't supposed to approve of these shakes. Still, he was in Jay’s apartment, having just spent the night, so he could hardly start lecturing him now.

Still in a state of undress, Matt slipped out of the room and tiptoed over the mess that was littering the living space. He opened the fridge and felt a pang of arousal as he remembered just how many Jay had prepared for himself.

“Thanks,” Jay smiled, getting back from the bathroom as Matt returned. “I can still feel that burger from last night,” he chuckled, rubbing the shelf of stomach fat, before taking a deep deep breath chugging one of the shakes.

Matt’s penis, which hadn’t been flaccid since the moment he woke up next to Jay, began to pump itself harder upon watching Jay drink. He found it embarrassing how quickly his arousal responded to stuff like this and he moved his hand to cover it up; not wanting Jay to see and realise what a freak he was. However, as he looked at the bedsheets, he could see that the same thing was happening to Jay as well, with his own hardness pushing the material upwards, throbbing up and down like a heartbeat.

Taking himself off to the bathroom, Matt calmed himself down. He was so into Jay, he couldn’t ruin it, like last time. When he returned, both shakes were emptied and Jay was up, checking his body out in the mirror; that old jock physique of his destroyed and replaced with the chubby, overfed form there was today. Gone was the youthful pertness of his glutes, now so wide and juicy. All the added fat had swollen his chest up so considerably, with his new, pointed nipples looking alert and sharp as they started to droop a little onto the broad, shockingly ball-like stomach that completely dominated the boy’s appearance.

Matt went over and kissed the chub sweetly, hoping that Jay wouldn’t feel differently now the morning had arrived. Afterwards, he took the guy’s hand and then gently led him back to bed; making love to him slowly and passionately this time; wanting to show Jay just how much he could adore and cherish him, if he would only give him the chance.

When Jay turned up for their training session the next day, there was an air of mischief about him. The pair of them were chuckling and smiling, knowing exactly what they had got up to at the weekend and excited to be in each other’s company again. Now when Matt had to touch him, supporting his arms in a certain way, or correcting his posture, it sent waves of pleasure through his entire body. If he tried to get tough with Jay to get him to build up a sweat, the guy would come back with something flirtatious or rude, making Matt laugh.

“What time do you finish tonight?” Jay asked after a particularly arousing session where Jay had actually done very little indeed.

“Ten,” Matt replied, wincing at how late it was going to be.

“That’s okay,” Jay smiled excitedly. “Want to stay over again?”

Matt looked around, trying to hold himself back from wanting to kiss Jay right there and then; the cutest, chubbiest guy currently at the gym that moment. He knew how unprofessional it was to be dating his client. In some ways, it was like playing with fire; both terrifying and thrilling. “Want me to bring anything over?” he asked politely, knowing how low Jay was getting on supplies like lubricant and condoms after the weekend.

“You could pick me up some doughnuts,” Jay happily agreed.

“Oh, right. Okay,” Matt mumbled in surprise. That hadn’t been what he had meant at all. “Any particular kind?” he offered, not wanting to spoil the mood by declining.

“Just the twelve pack that you can get at the late night convenience place at the end of my street,” Jay answered him, clearly wanting to kiss him goodbye, but knowing that he couldn’t here.

Slapping the twelve pack of doughnuts on the counter a while later, Matt couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. Here he was getting a spark of arousal at buying all this sugar and fat for his chubby lover. What would people say if they knew? He strolled over to Jay’s place and was buzzed in, finding the apartment door open as he made it up the stairs.

Seeing his chubby boy sprawled out on the couch, Matt took off his shirt and smiled, closing the door behind him before he marched straight over to kiss his new lover. Still dressed in his gym clothes, Jay’s stomach was falling out of his t-shirt as he twisted his head for the kiss. Two more empty flasks of shake sat on the floor beside the couch, alongside another pizza box that Jay must have picked up right after his workout.

Matt had slipped his hand onto Jay’s tummy as he went back for another kiss. How could he tell him off for his bad diet when he looked so adorable right now?

“Did you get my doughnuts?” Jay asked.

Matt nodded, getting up to collect them and feeling surprised at how eagerly Jay took them from him.

“Amazing! You got the cream filled ones!” Jay cheered, ripping the box open and pushing a doughnut straight in his mouth.

Matt hadn’t realised that there were different types, having just bought the first pack he’d found in the store, but he was pleased that it was giving Jay so much pleasure. He gazed with adoration as he ate, feeling himself falling hard for the guy. He sat there, on the floor, below the couch, rubbing Jay’s leg, observing it all. Doughnut number 5, 6 and 7 disappeared. Afterwards, Matt slipped in beside him, kissing his head from behind and holding the overfed boy tenderly. Whilst he couldn’t wait to sleep with Jay again, these tender moments were something he never wanted to rush.

“Did anyone notice that we were flirting at the gym? Jay asked as they lay tenderly together later on. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“That’s not something I want you to worry about,” Matt whispered into his ear. “I can handle any fallout if it comes to that.”

“I’ve actually wanted to quit weight training for quite some time. I just didn’t know how to tell you properly. Then our little relationship wouldn’t be so much of an issue.”

“So, we’re in a relationship, huh?” Matt teased, beaming with pride and hugging his boyfriend tightly from behind. “I don’t want you to give it up just for me, though,” he added regretfully.

“You’re the only reason I stuck it out so long,” Jay chuckled. “The truth is, I’m getting a lot more of a buzz out of developing my mass in ways that aren’t strength training related.”

Matt lifted his head as he lay in bed and looked down at the fat filled stomach on Jay; his hardness immediately throbbed into the guy’s doughy glutes. He wished he could control it; still wanting to conceal the fact that he found the idea of Jay becoming even more overweight so wildly erotic. He realised that as much as he would try to reason with Jay about his overeating and general laziness, his dick would always be there, trying to undermine his words of caution.

Although Jay didn’t acknowledge it with his words, he reached across for yet another doughnut, even though he had previously said he was stuffed. Was that for Matt’s benefit? Was he doing it to turn him on? Perhaps it was yet another unintended error of Matt’s that was dragging Jay even further down this crazy rabbit hole.

Jay’s gains began to speed up quite dramatically within the first six months of their relationship; Matt’s guilt increasing with every pound. There were times when he should have stepped in to stop Jay pushing his appetite too hard. When he discovered Jay buying in clothes for himself that were far too large, he could have asked why. He knew so much about nutrition and what it all was doing to Jay’s body, bloating it more and more beyond recognition. He’d crossed 300lbs. That should have been a moment for them both to take stock and reevaluate things; but the arousal of it all; the way Jay seemed to not care in the slightest about how people were seeing him these days; that confidence; the love that Matt felt for him. It all culminated to ensure the personal trainer kept quiet and allowed it to continue.

Jay’s body was stunning. There wasn’t a single spot where the fat hadn’t done its work, softening and swelling him up. With the lack of weight training, Jay’s chest had succumbed to the blubber, now filling up under his armpits and inflating his arms. All the while, his gut and wide butt quietly continued to grow ever more; becoming more extreme with each passing day.

Matt couldn’t say not to Jay on his birthday. He’d asked him again and again what he wanted to do for it: a day trip, a weekend hotel stay, any gift he wanted. But all Jay had insisted on was a take-out meal in front of the TV.

“This ice cream is definitely the best,” Jay smiled, scooping out from the tub with his spoon. “I can’t believe you found some!”

“Well, you’re worth it,” Matt smiled. “I even found some of those special flavour doughnuts that you tried a few months ago. So you’ve got something to enjoy tomorrow as well.”

“Tomorrow?” Jay chuckled sceptically. “I’ll be having those bad boys tonight! It is my birthday after all!”

Matt laughed and nodded. There was no arguing with that logic.

“In fact,” Jay continued. “I’d like you to be the one to feed them to me.”

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Matt pretended to spill his glass of water and made a fuss, grabbing a towel from the kitchen.

“Why do you always do that?” Jay asked, obviously downbeat. “You’ve got to know that I love the idea of you feeding me. We both clearly get off on how fat I’m getting. Everyone thinks you’re a feeder now. They saw you with your ex; they’ve seen me getting over 350lbs. You’ve heard them whispering it behind your back. So why won’t you ever feed me?”

Matt tried to brush the comments off. It wasn’t the right time; not on Jay’s birthday. However, his refusal to answer only seemed to make things worse. “Okay,” he finally surrendered. “I’m not being coy,” he admitted. “I… I just…” he stumbled. “It was when I was dating Chris.”

“The four hundred pound guy you were with before me?” Jay asked, with only a mild hint of jealousy.

“Chris and I didn’t meet at a club like I told everyone. We actually met on a kink website for feeders and gainers.”

“How did I not know this?” Jay laughed, realising that his shy boyfriend had been holding out on him the entire time. “So you used to feed Chris to make him gain weight?”

Matt nodded. “It was great. It felt amazing. I fell ridiculously in love with the guy. He put on about 40lbs in the time we were together.”

“You dark horse!” Jay joked, barely containing his delight.

“But it just wrecked things in the end. We both wanted him bigger and fatter. We spoke about it endlessly. But when Chris was in a mood with me for something, he used to blame only me for making him fat. He said it was all my fault he was so unhappy. I spent so much of my time trying to make him smile and the second something pissed him off, he’d throw it all back in my face.”

“That’s not very nice,” Jay agreed, pleased to finally learn how Matt’s previous relationship had ended.

“Then there was one day when Chris’ car broke down. He came over in such a bad mood and started taking it all out on me. He ended up getting drunk and heading out with his friends. He made out to them all that I was fattening him secretly. He even messaged my parents to say the same thing.”

“Shit!” Jay cringed for him, now realising why Matt’s parents had never been especially warm with him.

“Chris apologised, of course. But it was too late. Fake news like that travels like wildfire. Even though I knew I was always going to be attracted to bigger guys, I always promised myself, I wouldn’t ever get caught up in a situation like that again. Not if it risked making someone as special as you so unhappy.”

Jay nodded, completely understanding. “It makes sense,” he nodded in agreement. “But you’re not to blame for how I’m turning out. I’m not Chris, and I never have been.”

“I get that, but..” Matt tried to counter.

“No, I mean it. I’ve wanted to be a fat boy for as long as I can remember. I felt so ashamed about it. I thought a muscle gain might quench that thirst, but it didn’t. There is no part of me that is doing this just for your pleasure,” he stated sincerely. “So stop with the guilt.”

Matt nodded, feeling that he had been thoroughly put in his place. This wasn’t all about him. This was Jay’s journey.

“But I think you also know how huge I want to get. I know you’ve spotted some of the clothes I’ve been buying recently,” Jay smiled.

“Yeah, those sweatpants you bought the other day…” Matt nodded knowingly. “They were something else!”

Jay beamed with pride. “Aren’t they just!” he chuckled. “So why don’t you tell me, seriously,” he insisted. “How do you really feel about me getting so fat that I could actually wear pants like that?”

Matt considered his answer, knowing how upfront and honest they were both trying to be that evening. “Excited,” he replied simply. “Really turned on by it.”

“So, would you be willing to help me with getting there?” Jay asked.

Matt knew what Jay was asking of him and he sighed at the hard choice he was having to make. “I really want to,” he admitted, rubbing Jay’s rounded gut and admiring the tight softness. “It’s been so difficult trying to hold myself back sometimes.”

“Then stop,” Jay shrugged. “You know that I’m doing this, with or without your help.”

The two men looked at each other with true honesty in their eyes. “Okay,” Matt smiled at last. “Okay, I’ll.. try.”

Jay beamed brightly and slouched his fat body into the tortured couch, placing his limp hands at his side and opening his mouth, waiting. “No time like the present. It is my birthday, after all!”

Matt, who had not been anticipating such an immediate start, fumbled slightly, not knowing what to do as he picked up a doughnut from the table. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked nervously.

Jay nodded, raising his eyebrows with excitement, but did not close his mouth as the doughnut was dangled so wonderfully close to his face.

With the doughnut in his hand, Matt pressed it into Jay’s greedy mouth. The boy moaned in appreciation and took as large a bite as he could. The sound was instantly arousing. Already he felt the sugar uncomfortably sticking to his fingers. By the time the third bite came along, he knew the remaining piece was too big, but pushed it into Jay’s mouth anyway; making the fat boy’s cheeks swell with fattening dough and sugar. Yet, still the glutton gorged, sucking the sugar off Matt’s fingers as soon as he possibly could. This was hot!

Jay’s hand reached towards the hunk’s crotch, feeling the arousal his part in the feeding had given him. Then he smirked gleefully. There was no hiding anything now as they both undressed entirely. “Feed me another,” he demanded.

Matt did as he was told, picking up more confidence with each fresh doughnut he pushed into the horny boy’s mouth. Seeing sugar glistening on the glutton’s cheeks, the arousal in his eyes; the pleasure he took from drawing this side of Matt out.

“Am I a good piggy?” Jay asked teasingly,sucking on Matt’s hardness as the doughnuts were all finished at last.

Moaning softly, feeling his dick getting sticky from the fat guy’s sugary saliva, Matt nodded in agreement. Had Jay really just referred to himself as a ‘piggy’?

“Say it then,” Jay demanded, letting his hand take over for the few seconds he needed his mouth to talk. “Tell me what a good, fattening pig I am.”

Matt’s brain was foggy with lust. He could tell that Jay was already holding back, not allowing him to climax just yet. “You’re a good piggy,” he heard himself saying, worrying that he could ejaculate the moment he felt the words leaving his mouth. “And I do want you get fatter,” he admitted. “I always have.”

“Prove it then,” Jay suddenly demanded, slipping his mouth and hands away from Matt’s hardness; cutting him off in an instant.

“How?” Matt asked, having been so close to finishing before this abrupt stop.

“The refrigerator,” Jay simply replied; smirking in triumph.

Matt knew in an instant what he needed to do. He headed straight over and collected Jay’s calorie shake from the cool refrigerator and held it in his hands, about to become the world’s biggest hypocrite after everything he had said about these things.

“What do you want me to do?” asked a super horny birthday boy, laying back again and letting the fat splay into the seat once more.

“I want you to drink it,” Matt replied, already unscrewing the lid.

“What’s it going to do to me?” Jay whispered next, savouring the kinky moment between them both.

“It’s going to make you fatter,” Matt smiled back, so happy to be drawn into the game; so happy that he was doing this at last.

Matt stepped closer to the fat boy and then sat beside him, using his free hand to jiggle the immense softness that had enveloped Jay’s torso, whilst kissing him deeply. Then, just as Jay was really getting into it, he lifted his free hand up and gently rocked the boy’s head backwards so that his mouth pointed towards the ceiling, in position for the pouring.

“Are you ready, Piggy?” Matt asked, finally unleashing his true self. “It’s time to grow for me…”

Jay’s eyes were dancing with excitement as they drifted from his feeder’s gaze and up towards the ominously held jug of calorie shake looming above his head. Then, just like that, his mouth opened wider than Matt had ever seen it go before.

Matt couldn’t put his finger on when exactly he came, but he knew he hadn’t been done pouring. His fat boy had slipped his pudgy, sweaty hand onto his hardness and tugged at it; pushed it right into his giant, jiggling stomach, until Matt could stand it no longer. His orgasm had been years in the making and he moaned louder than any of his former lovers had ever heard him.

A new beast had just been unleashed.

#gainer fiction #gay feedee #gainerstory #gayfeedee #gainerstories #gainer fic #gainerfic #gayfeeder #gainer story #gainer stories

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strawbeerossi · 6 months

Text

Blade

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Ghostface!Spencer Reid x Ghostface!Elle Greenaway

Description: It’s Halloween night and the streets of Washington DC are a ghost town because of the new curfew put into place after the sudden uprise in murders. Unbeknownst to you, the two people who are on a spree are planning on trick-or-treating tonight. Their treat? You

Content/Warnings: Noncon/dubcon (not sure which one applies cause I’m new to this tbh), knife play, blood, spitting, ffm threesome, crying, fuck-or-die scenario (if you squint), penetration with foreign object, oral (f + m receiving), face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex (have you ever noticed how I never write protected sex?), breeding kink, creampie

Word Count: 3.6K

Kinktober Day Fourteen: Knife Kink

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The streets of Washington DC were empty, an eerie fog picking up within the night. Halloween night was usually far different, the many parties going on for adults or the children trick-or-treating and lighting up the dimly lit neighborhoods scattered across the city. This year, fear suffocated the city, a masked killer haunting the area while brutally murdering people and showing absolutely no remorse.

The BAU was working days on end, every lead being buried so deep that not even the brilliant mind of Penelope Garcia could dig them up. Every phone call made could never be traced, no voice recognition because of the device concealing the true voice of the culprit and changing the tone. The hopes weren’t high, the best bet was waiting for this person to get sloppy. It was just a shame because this man knew exactly what he was doing.

None of you had even begun to think of the possibility of it being a team, the kills all perfectly aligned to the point that it had to be a coordinated unsub who’d planned this. The team has been sent home for the night, knowing that you all needed sleep over anything else. It was easier said than done, especially whenever you couldn’t manage to lay down without hearing some bump that had you shooting right back up. Even in an apartment where numerous sounds were normal, you were on the highest of alert.

You had just finished a brief phone call with Spencer, entrusting your closest friend and coworker in your struggles to sleep. He’d commented that he understood and was going through the same issues, telling you numerous things to try and relax yourself enough to sleep. You told him you’d call him later, opting to take a shower before bed in hopes it would relax your tensed muscles.

Little did you know, you gave him just what he wanted.

Your hands were moving to slowly turn the water of the shower head off, a sigh leaving your lips as you felt comfortable. That was what you needed. As your hand dipped out of the shower curtain, you were retrieving the towel hanging on the hanger beside you. Before you could attempt to dry yourself, you were groaning whenever the power had been flipped off. It was storming outside, so you assumed it had to do with the weather. As peaceful as the sounds of rain were, you hated some of the after effects due to the downpour. After using the towel to wrap around yourself, you pulled back the shower curtain.

You had a bad feeling. You weren’t sure exactly why but there was just an uneasy feeling filling your stomach. Maybe it was because of the dark? Your hand was grabbing your phone from the counter, turning on the device’s flashlight before you were approaching your bedroom door. For once in the night, there was silence. Maybe your noisy neighbors finally went down for the night.

The spooky ambience really added on to the Halloween feel, however you weren’t too fond of it tonight. Even in the safety of your apartment, you felt like someone was watching you. Using the handy flashlight feature and safely navigating back to your bedroom, you were contemplating for a few moments before closing your bedroom door, locking it for another sense of security.

Taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, you were trying to convince yourself that you were nervous for no reason. Nobody could get in. You locked the front door and now your bedroom door, you were safe.

“It’s probably a good thing you locked the door. Could you imagine who can come in at any time?” A disguised voice sounded from the other side of the room, making your heart fall to your stomach. “For an FBI profiler, you aren’t very observant.” You didn’t dare turn around, body paralyzed in fear. “You’re gonna kill me, aren’t you?” You asked, voice as steady as you could get it when there was a laugh behind you. “No. I’m not gonna kill you. Not if you listen to everything you’re told.” Your eyes were squeezed tightly shut from fear.

“Now,” The feeling of the gloved hand against your back made you flinch, however it was like the delicate touch was attempting to soothe you. “Turn around and look at me, hmm? Let me see that pretty face.” You had the mind to deny it, to say no and try and attempt to run, even if you wouldn’t get far. However, you wanted to stay alive, so your body was slowly turning around. “There she is.” The masked figure sighed in content, right hand gripping a blade as the opposite was coming up to pull the mask off.

Your eyes widened, the tears still pouring from the corners and soaking your face. Elle Greenaway was standing in front of you, looking at you with an undeniable hunger in her eye.

You hadn’t seen her in years, not after she lost her job and she was forced out. “Is this a joke?” You asked first and foremost. Surely it was an unfunny practical joke that your ex coworker was putting on. However she made it painfully clear that it wasn’t when the blade in her hand was brought to your neck. “Wait!” You rushed, still frozen from fear while you could hear shuffling from another area of your apartment. This was beyond your bedroom door. “He takes forever. Fuck. He almost missed the fun!” Elle commented, now using her knife to nick your flesh while watching the slow stream of blood trickle down your skin, smiling with satisfaction before leaning forward. You didn’t know what to expect but when you felt her tongue lap over the crimson fluid from your skin, you could feel your cheeks flushing.

Were you really turned on right now?

You didn’t have much time to question it as the woman took the opportunity of you being lost in your own thoughts to move you and unlock your bedroom door. “About time,” She scoffed, making the masked figure stop as he realized she had taken her mask off. “What the hell?” He asked immediately, not having time to stop Elle from yanking the mask off of his head as well.

You could’ve expected anyone else in the world but when you saw Spencer’s wide eyes from beyond the mask, you could feel your blood run cold. You’d told Spencer all of your plans for tonight just for him to make plans to break into your apartment? You could only assume he was going to kill you and the amount of betrayal that consumed you was enough to throw you into the pits of hell without needing to be murdered first. “Look at her! We can’t hurt her. Besides, she’s already so graciously agreed to celebrate the holiday with us tonight. I feel like we deserve a trick-or-treat break.” She began while smirking as the dots were soon being connected by Spencer as he nodded slowly. “Are we sure this is a good idea? Keeping her alive keeps a giant target on our backs since you got the bright idea to show our faces.” He grumbled. “I’ve been to prison once before and I promise you that I would rather die than end up in there again.” He said in a simple tone, making his partner wave him off. “I don’t think we will have a problem with her. Besides, the goal was to catch her in the shower but someone showed up too late.”

You were silent as you’d realized your vulnerable state, wrapped up in only a towel that you’d managed to squeeze tighter around your body. This was insane. “You two are fucking nuts.” As quickly as you found your voice, you were losing it again the moment you had the blade pressed against your throat again. “Watch your fucking mouth.” Elle spat while her intense gaze had you squeezing your thighs together. Being with two profilers, albeit one former, it wasn’t hard for them to notice the way your pupils were blown out, face flushed, the way your grip on the towel was turning your knuckles white.

“Are you really turned on right now?” Spencer asked, a thick tension clouding the room as he was moving closer to you, eyes trailing to the knife in Elle’s hand while he was pulling his out soon after. Holding it up in front of your face, he raised an eyebrow. “You like the idea of getting fucked by people trying to kill you?” He was amused, making you blush from embarrassment. “She’s a whore. You should’ve seen her reaction when I licked her neck earlier.” Elle added soon after, both of their intense gazes making you want to fall to your knees.

As the woman in front of you dragged the tip of the knife from your neck to your shoulder, she sighed in content. “Try it. It’s fun. I think she gets off on the idea of you cutting her, marking her like she’s only ours.” She hummed, watching as Spencer nodded, although his blade was rested under your chin, using a light push to tilt your head up to face him. “You like my knife? Even though I could kill you with it?” He asked, his honey colored eyes hidden behind the cloud of lust overshadowing the beautiful irises. As he let the blade trail from your chin to your neck, his eyes were fixated on your face, watching as you let your eyes flutter shut.

“What kind of slut likes this shit? You really are a whore.” He spat. This wasn’t a side of Spencer that you ever thought you’d see, however you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. He applied more pressure, the blade breaking the skin as he ran it down your neck to your shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to scar, however the sight of your blood covering your skin had his cock stirring in his pants. Like Elle, Spencer had leaned forward to lap up the metallic fluid. He did something a little different though. “Open your mouth.” He grumbled, the mix of your blood and his spit sitting on his tongue. You obliged, mouth open as you had stuck your tongue out as well, which earned a chuckle from the woman watching the scene.

Spencer spit the mixture into your mouth, his free hand forcing your mouth closed while giving you no choice but to swallow it. The act had your cunt clenching around nothing, arousal building in your stomach. “She listens well. We might have to keep her alive after all.” The woman mused while the man in front of you was putting the handle weapon in his mouth, quickly ripping the towel off of your exposed body while grinning around the black handle. Taking it from his mouth, the knife was soon back in Spencer’s hand and running down the valley of your breasts, your breathing picking up from the adrenaline.

He really could gut you like a fish right now but here he is, dragging the knife over your flushed flesh while smirking. Your pussy was glistening from how wet you’d been from this whole encounter.

The knife was dragging down your stomach, then dropping to your thighs as he traced it over your inner thigh. Your mouth was agape, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Let’s see how good that cunt is, hmm?” Elle finally commented, getting bored of only watching as she was flipping her knife around, hand moving to hold the blade while she was dropping to her knees in front of you. “She’s soaking wet, Spencer. Look at this.” The woman taunted, the male dropping to his knees as well while leaving you blushing.

You were anticipating what move they would make next. What you weren’t expecting was for the blunt handle of the knife to tap against your swollen clit, making your eyes widen. “It’s not that big.” Elle commented, laughing as her free hand was moving to spread your labia apart, looking at your desperate hole attempting to clench around nothing as she sighed in content.

“Let’s give that greedy pussy what she wants.” She’d commented, pushing the end of the knife into your cunt, a grin on your face as your desperate hole was eagerly sucking the weapon in. As her hand was moving slowly to fuck you with the knife, you were left to be a whining mess. This was fucked. You should’ve been terrified, ready to fight back even though you knew you’d die. Instead, you were getting pounded with the handle of a knife while being reduced to a moaning and whining mess. The unholy sounds of your pussy squelching around the knife was enough to make things progress quite quickly.

Cruelly, Elle was taking stopping her actions and ultimately tossing the knife on the floor, a huff of displeasure leaving your lips from the emptiness. “Don’t you huff at me. You know, you don’t deserve this.” She spat, her head moving closer to your core as her tongue swiped over your clit with a soft hum, grinning once you’d gripped her hair. “That’s right. Gonna fuck this desperate cunt with my tongue, bet you want that so bad.” Her words were low, her hands resting against your thighs as her tongue was sliding along your slit, collecting every ounce of your essence that you were happy to let her drink up and savor.

“Oh fuck,” You panted, feeling the woman waste no time as her tongue was pistoning your slick hole with no remorse, as if you were the piece of candy she’d gotten for wearing such a clever costume tonight. Spencer had already discarded his robe by that point, palming his hard cock in his pants as he watched the scene go down in front of him.

Her tongue was massaging your inner walls, your moans in sync as she was slurping and sucking at your desperate cunt. She knew exactly what she was doing, her attention moving to your clit while she was sliding two fingers into your cunt without warning. It was enough to make you grip her hair and attempt to shove her face deeper. With her middle and ring fingers, she was scissoring your cunt as she curled them deep inside of you, your walls spasming around her fingers as you could feel your arousal building. The first orgasm you had was powerful, the way you gripped tightly onto Elle while desperately rocking your hips and whimpering softly.

Spencer was humming as he glanced at the woman beside him, her mouth wet with your cum and arousal as she was pulling back after licking up your mess from your cunt and thighs. “Alright. I feel like it’s my turn. That’s fair, right?” He questioned, although he wasn’t delving into your cunt, no, he was pushing himself to stand. “On your knees.” He murmured, hands working on his belt before undoing it, eventually pushing his pants down his legs as he kicked them off. You were mesmerized, seeing the outline of his cock that was being constricted in his boxers.

He hadn’t forgotten about your love of his knife though, kneeling down briefly to retrieve it while slowly running it down your cheek. “You don’t deserve to get fucked by me yet.” He murmured, eyebrows raised as you were seemingly not even listening to him, your hands moving to the waistband of his boxers to tug them down. Watching his cock slap against his stomach had an involuntary moan falling from your lips. “Yeah, figured you’d be a cockslut. Go on then.” He murmured, hand gripping your hair as he was leading you to his cock that was standing at attention. As soon as the tip was pushed past your lips, Spencer gave you a few seconds to get a rhythm going as you were sucking at his dick. However, he was frustrated at just how slow paced you were. That was when he took matters into his own hands, keeping his tight grip on your hair as he was roughly thrusting into your mouth.

The sudden intrusion had you gagging, tears brimming your eyes while you were staring up at Spencer through your eyelashes. “Fuck. That’s right. You look so fucking sexy with my cock in your mouth. Take it like a champ.” He grunted, hips snapping as you were reduced to gagging, moaning, and whining while attempting to bob your head in time with his thrusts. It didn’t work out that way. Spencer craved control, that was why he even worked with Elle in the first place. He’d spent years being the shy guy who had no idea what to do or wanted to hold back. Now however, he had no remorse as he had you crying from him fucking your throat raw. Much to your dismay, you were being roughly yanked off of his cock by your hair.

“There’s no way in hell that I’m wasting my cum in your mouth. You’re gonna have to take it in that desperate little pussy of yours. Bet you’d like the idea of me filling you up, marking you as mine. You know.. I bet you’d like me to fuck my load deep inside of you, get you pregnant? Then what would you do? You’d be stuck with me.” He smirked. He did like the idea of that. The idea of you being quiet and keeping him and Elle safe due to the fact you were filled with his child? It was enough to make his cock twitch.

“Get up. Get on the bed.” He ordered. He could order you around but he knew Elle wouldn’t follow his instructions. “Why don’t you sit on her face? Keep her whore mouth shut so the neighbors don’t think she’s getting murdered in here.” He suggested, the woman not needing to be told twice as she was shedding off her robe along with her pants and panties, not wasting any time to roughly shove your body back into your bed. “Gonna suffocate you with my pussy. I bet you would like that, wouldn’t you? To go out desperately licking and sucking on my cunt?” Elle and Spencer were both filthy talkers. That was for damn sure.

With your body falling against the plush mattress, you barely had time to react before the other woman was setting herself over your face. “I can’t wait to make a mess out of that pretty face.” She mused, waiting for Spencer to get situated before the two shared a glance while the male was getting between your legs, his hand coming down to give your pussy a smack while eliciting a squeak out of you. The sting hurt a little too good, the male taking note as he gave two more smacks before his hand was gripping his cock. He gave himself a few lazy tugs before getting situated, his cock slowly pushing into you. As much as he would’ve loved to split you open, he wasn’t planning on killing you nor seriously hurting you. His generosity was appreciated, even if that generosity didn’t last all too long.

The minute you had Elle’s soaked cunt hovering over your face, your hands were gripping her thighs as your tongue was flicking over her clit, relishing in the hint of her sweet essence. It wasn’t too long for her to take control though, all her weight being put onto your face as she was rolling her hips against your mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer had pulled out and roughly slammed into your pussy again.

Both of the people you feared so much earlier were using you like a fuck toy, Spencer pounding deep into your cunt while Elle was riding your tongue as you attempted to tongue fuck her, however the moans being muffled into her warmth from the assault on your pussy made it just a little difficult to focus. “Fuck. I think we may have to keep her locked up. Use this little whore for whatever we need her for. Especially after these stressful fucking days.” Spencer panted out.

Your body was nothing more than a toy, begging to be used and abused by the two psychopaths who seemingly pulled you into their spell.

Your second and final orgasm of the night was building with each rough thrust that Spencer granted you with, your face a mess from the sounds of you licking and sucking at Elle’s desperate pussy, the other woman moaning and demanding more out of you, as if that were possible. “Fuck. Wanna be filled with my cum, slut? I promise that you’re gonna be mine. Gonna mark you the only way I know how.” The feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around his cock was all he needed, ropes or his cum painting your inner walls, you were pretty sure he painted your womb just as much. Pulling his softening cock out of you, he was inspecting the damage. Your pretty cunt was glistening, cum just begging to come out as it ran down your inner thighs and onto your bedsheets.

As your tongue was lapping and desperately sucking at the woman’s clit, it wasn’t long until you could feel her creamy arousal paint your mouth area, even rubbing down to your neck as she was pushing her body off of you to fall back against the mattress. You were beyond fucked out, eyes closing as your chest rose and fell at an unsteady pace as you made an effort to catch your breath. “You know..” Elle began while glancing at Spencer, who’d already been pulling his clothes back on.

“I feel like you’re onto something with us taking her.” She commented, the two looking down at you as if they were predators and you were their helpless prey.

“Oh. She’s definitely coming with us.”

1K notes · View notes

bunny-yan · 11 months

Note

Love your yandere king so much ❤ But what if he kills his darling ?

TW:death, descriptions of death, violence, strangulation, content is not suitable for minors —

Strangled gasps echoed throughout the room, beating against the walls as your cries for help were silenced.

You supposed it didn’t matter even if you could manage to get someone’s attention. The king could order a maid to stand and watch as he tortured you endlessly and they would act as if it was another normal day. Stone faced they’d watch, no signs of registering your pleas unless the king allowed.

And the king didn’t allow much these days.

Constantly irritated and on edge if you weren’t plastered to his side, you knew you should’ve woken him up and told him that you were going to the bathroom, but you wanted a moment of peace. Of silence. A moment to yourself.

The punishment when you returned was his hands around your throat, squeezing as he leaned over your body and cursed you for trying to leave him, for attempting to escape.

It didn’t make sense.

You came back so you didn’t understand how he could accuse you of trying to escape. You could argue that maybe it was just his sleep deprived brain playing tricks on him. That the you inside his dreams was a bit more honest about how you felt and he was dragging that version of you to reality. The real you. The silenced you.

But it still didn’t make sense.

You’d gone to relieve yourself for crying out loud. In what world did it seem appropriate to reprimand a natural bodily function with violence? Of course, he was the king and he could punish you for simply looking at him the wrong way. There was no arguing for someone in your position.

You were tired of self-debating the injustice of it all.

You tried to apologize, knowing that it usually calmed him down. You would take the blame because it was your fault at the end of the day.

You set him off. If you had just remained by his side, this wouldn’t be happening right now. You knew he would get angry and you expected this to happen. What were you thinking? You could only blame yourself for the hands that were actively squeezing the life out of you. You struggled to get the two words, that seemed to live on your tongue, out.

I’m sorry.

He’d stop then. He’d still be angry, growl cruel words at you and shake you like a ragdoll, shake you so hard that it felt like your neck might snap off of your neck, but then he’d hold you close like the perfect lover, as if the monster that consumed him every waking moment never existed.

But you couldn’t make a sound.

Looking back and forth between his furious eyes, your mouth opened and closed but short breaths were the only thing that passed through your lips. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, begging him to loosen his painful hold but as if he sensed your squirming resistance he gripped you harder.

You felt as he crushed something in your throat and a sharp jolt of fear passed through your body at the thought that this was it.

You were going to die.

You could fight, struggle, but you knew it would only make him squeeze tighter, completely cutting off what little air you were allowed.

This is the end.

Strangely, the thought gave you peace. You couldn’t imagine how many times you’d woken up after dreaming about a simple life with someone you loved in a small village as far away from the kingdom as possible and felt the growing urge to cry. To bawl your eyes out as you lived each day in devastation, realizing that it was simply that. A dream. And a dream is all it would ever be.

Until now.

You finally got to escape. Escape the growing loneliness that seemed to burrow itself deeply inside of you, carving into you each day without remorse. Escape the callous remarks and repulsed stares, judging you for dwelling in a position you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemies. You would get to escape the king and his sweet, sick laughter and soft looks that’d morph into an erratic crazed obsession.

You would finally get to be with the people that were taken from you, the people you loved and would no longer have to miss dearly.

Finally.

When the king’s anger ebbed, he ripped his hands away from your neck, climbing off of you to go to the balcony. He hoped that the cool air would calm him down because he was still seeing red and being near you wasn’t helping the situation.

As he looked out on the silent night, he took a deep breath and pushed a frustrated hand through his hair.

You would be the death of him.

The king didn’t understand why he always got so angry when it came to you. It was never this difficult to control his anger, but he supposed with time his rage only grew.

From the minute he laid eyes on you, he knew the two of you were meant for each other. He kept you by his side in order to get your to realize that, but no matter how many hints he dropped or passes he made, you refused to understand. Those around you didn’t make it much better. He noticed the way some of your fellow servants touched you casually when it’d taken him months to touch you without you flinching away from his touch or tensing up.

You always reminded him of his position when he knew it better than anyone else.

The prince was as kind as he was benevolent. He was wise and patient to better understand and lead his citizens. And if another dared to lay claim on something he already acknowledged as his, the prince was going to lose his mind.

What good was all this power if it couldn’t give him what he wanted? He was raised with the knowledge that everything in the world was within his grasp.

And so he took.

He felt awful. Anyone would when faced with their lover’s crying face. You were supposed to be happy, but your aversion was simply because you didn’t understand.

And you didn’t seem to be the only one.

He’d heard the conversation you had with your father and it broke his heart to hear that you no longer wanted to serve as his companion. You begged, pleaded to be demoted to the position of a stable hand if you had to, but your father understood his position. He understood that it was an honor to serve the prince in a position that most other nobles your age could only hope to dream about and told you there was nothing he could do.

But he went to the king anyway. Asked him to reconsider the prince’s companion and place someone more suitable in the position.

He fumed, realizing that you weren’t the only one he would have to educate.

Your father was a nuisance that aided you in your foolishness. A nuisance that you’d helped him get rid of. You were despondent, but so docile and sweet once he got rid of the distractions in your relationship.

Or most of them.

He never imagined that his father would try to separate the two of you. The prince thought that he of all people would understand, but he wouldn’t muster his princely patience this time. He’d waited long enough to get you all to himself and nothing would stand in his way.

He was king now and he’d all but assured that no one would ever stand in the way of your relationship again. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. No one would take you from him.

No one would take you away.

Pushing off of the balcony, he walked back inside, reasonably placated as he shut the doors to prevent a draft before climbing back into bed. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he was surprised when you didn’t flinch away. After one of his outbursts you had a tendency of trembling and angling your body away from him, but you laid still.

He smiled before pulling you closer.

It had to have been the most peaceful sleep he’d gotten in a while.

~*~

The king’s first thought when he woke up the next morning was that you were oddly cold. He looked to the door, frowning when he saw that it was closed. He’d made sure to close the balcony doors so why did your skin feel like ice?

“Good morning, my love.” he said, caressing the side of your face. He smiled, leaning over your body before slowly kissing your frigid lips.

You were silent.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, he shook you lightly. “Wake up, love. It’s time to start our day.”

You remained silent.

“My love?”

Looking at you, he slowly backed away when he noticed your body was unnaturally still. No fluttering eyelashes, no rise and fall of your chest, nothing.

He was stumbling towards the door yelling for someone to call a doctor before he even realized what his body was doing. Maids entered, hands covering their mouths at the sight of you and he was sure someone screamed, but he couldn’t hear anything past the static in his ears. He couldn’t see anything, but you.

It didn’t take long for the doctor to arrive. Rushing to your side as the king yelled at him to fix you, asking her what was wrong with you. He knew it couldn’t be anything good when the woman froze after touching your wrist, slowly turning before looking at him with those eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she began to say, but he was shaking his head.

“Get out.” he said quietly, coming forward before shoving the woman away from you. “Get out!” he yelled, not bothering to watch as she hurried out of the door. “That doctor was incompetent. Drag her away, punish her, and find someone else. NOW!”

Bodies bustled around, rushing to fulfill his orders, but he only had eyes for you. He held your hand, kissing each knuckle before he rested it against his face. You would be okay. You had to be. He didn’t know what he was going to do if you weren’t okay.

Doctor after doctor arrived, feeling the fierce pressure the king exuded as he ordered them to do something and time after time he received the same words.

I’m sorry.

It seemed to be the only thing the incompetent fools could say.

I’m sorry.

He shook his head, wondering whether he would hang the doctors for their incompetence. You were fine yesterday. Talking with him, laughing and touching, and now you were… what? What would they have him to believe?

He walked to your side, the doctors backing away slowly as he leaned over your body.

Silence permeated the room, everyone afraid to breathe lest they incur the king’s wrath, but it was abruptly broken by sharp laughter.

The king’s laughter.

Broken laughter that became muffled when he covered his mouth.

His body shook violently, everyone in the room flinching when he whipped around to face them with an ugly sneer.

“Are you fools so blind to not recognize a sleeping person?”

Everyone hesitated, too afraid to look away from the king.

“I have no further use for you. Get out.”

Maids, doctors, and servants alike left the king’s chambers single file, unsure what had occurred, but he didn’t seem to notice.If anything it was better for the both of you. No one was bothering you and you could rest peacefully.

He came to your side, tugging the covers back over you as he sighed.

“I shouldn’t have kept you awake for so long.” he said. You looked so cold.

His cheeks stretched into a soft smile. If you’d only opened your eyes to see how easily he could rest beside you now.

Your routine followed the same pattern.

The king would wake up, smiling as he kissed you and coaxed you to wake up but you remained as still as you’d been for the past couple of days. Your clammy skin did nothing to deter his affection as he’d kiss your forehead, your eyes, your pale lips.

He was used to getting an adverse reaction. He wasn’t sure if he preferred not receiving one at all, but it had to have been progress, right?

The king could start the day without punishing his lover for not responding properly. He could go perform his duties as king without worrying whether or not you’d attempt to escape again. He wouldn’t have to order the guards and maids to search for you. You would just remain sleeping in bed until you saw fit to get up.

The king hoped it was soon because he’d missed seeing your eyes, regardless of the emotion they held for him.

After a week, no one mentioned the putrid odor that began to drift from the king’s bedroom. The king himself had nothing to say about it so the others would keep their mouths shut.

His advisors continued meetings, exchanging glances between each other but none being bold enough to speak up. Maids would glance towards him nervously when he would pass by, too afraid to even whisper.

A considerate maid walked in and caused a commotion by screaming. What she saw remained a mystery to the other servants as the king barred others from his bedroom, lest they disturbed his sleeping lover and she refused to speak about it, looking distant. The servants were relieved they had an excuse to avoid cleaning the king’s bedroom. If not for the unspeakable terror then for fear that they’d aggravate the ghost-like king that appeared more haggard the longer you went without acknowledging his presence.

He supposed he couldn’t blame you. You couldn’t speak to him if you were asleep. He understood that rest was important, but he missed hearing your voice. Even if it meant hearing things he would hate, anything was better than this awful silence.

“My love?” he said, speaking to you even though he knew you wouldn’t respond. It wasn’t time yet, he told himself. You were still recovering. Still catching up due to restless nights he caused. He could give as many as he took, but it didn’t stop him from being lonely.

If anything, it was the one emotion he had to realize he felt.

He was terribly lonely. He’d only realized it after he no longer had the choice to speak to you. He didn’t have to seek you out anymore. He knew that you would be lying here, sleeping peacefully, but he’d look for you any day if it meant getting to hear your voice.

“Do you think you’ll wake up soon?” he asked, brushing your hair gently. If only you would open your eyes and see the amount of love he held for you. You would just have to look at him to see.

“Will you open your eyes?” he asked, on the verge of begging as he grew more and more afraid of the silence he knew he would be forced to endure.

Wrapping his arms around your body, he held you gently as he tried to choke down distress at being deprived of something he’d taken for granted.

“Please open your eyes.” he begged. “Please.”

After a month, the king was sure you were getting sick.

He’d tried combing your hair since you couldn’t do it for yourself and was shocked to find that it was beginning to fall out. At first he thought it was normal, but as he persisted more hair clumped into the jeweled comb.

He couldn’t wipe your body down because he’d begun to notice your skin change into a sickly color whenever he changed your clothes and the doctors that he’d attempted to enlist for advice responded with the same words he’d become tired of hearing.

I’m sorry.

There was never anything anyone could do. He had grown weary of even bothering. You would be fine. If he just gave you time, you’d recover and come back to him.

But he didn’t know how long that would take.

He’d begun to forget the color of your eyes, or what your expression looked like when it was filled with warmth. He continued to hold you as you slept and even if he hated it when you would flinch away from him, he needed something, anything from you.

He craved to hear your voice say that you loved him.

He wanted to remember the taste of your tongue as he held you tight.

He needed to see you give something other than this god awful stillness.

The king grit his teeth to the point where he felt as if his teeth cracked as he stared down at you, sleeping peacefully in the bed.

“Get up.” he said, feeling something surge inside of him at the continued sight of your sleeping face.

“Get up!”

The vase of wilted flowers on your bedside was the first thing to fly across the room, shattering into a million pieces as it hit a wall. He flipped over the table, ripped down the curtains, tore apart the bookshelf, wreaking havoc in attempt to bring you back from your persistent slumber.

The king didn’t care when he stepped on glass, cutting into his feet. He didn’t care that there was a group of servants beginning to crowd outside of his bedroom, calling in to ask if he was okay.

He only had eyes for you.

“Wake up.” he ordered, voice hard and cold as he hovered above you, willing your eyes to open at the sound of his voice. “You’ve slept long enough. Get up!”

He yelled.

You didn’t flinch.

All it took was the lack of a simple reaction to break him completely as he sunk to his knees, pleading, begging for you to open your eyes. For you to end this tantrum because he had grown impatient of waiting for you.

The king couldn’t remember when he had fallen asleep, feeling pain in his legs, but he couldn’t comprehend anything beyond the sound of your voice calling for him.

“My king?”

A gaunt face looked up. Wide eyes met your soft ones and the king felt tears prick the corner of his eyes as his shaking hand reached out to touch you. He was afraid. Was it really you? He hadn’t heard your voice for so long that he couldn’t be sure, but when you leaned into his touch, the dam burst as he hugged you tightly.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him.

His body shook, wracked as he sobbed. He didn’t understand just how much he’d missed hearing your voice. How much he missed you.

Pulling away, he cried in your lap feeling such immense relief that he was exhausted despite having just woken up.

“I’m sorry.” he said, kneeling at your feet as he caressed the sides of your ankles. It was the first time the words had ever left his lips. You had always been unsure whether he was taught the meaning of such words since he acted as if he could do no wrong, but maybe it took your continued silence to draw it out of him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” he said.

He sounded so broken. It was unlike his usual haughty tone. The confidence he wore like a second skin was gone now, replaced with an empty shell of a man as he prostrated himself before you.

“Please,” he begged, not wanting anything more than your forgiveness in this moment. If it meant forsaking the kingdom and relinquishing his title, he’d do it if it meant keeping you by his side. “Please don’t leave me.”

It was quiet for a moment and the king felt a ghost of a hand against the top of his head.

“Oh, king.”

Your voice was soft, gentle even. It gave him hope. Maybe he could fix things. He’d start over. He wouldn’t be so forceful. He always had a feeling that if he slowed his advances and focused on wooing you, you would’ve chosen to be his with time.

“Don’t you know that I’m already gone?”

The king was frozen.

You said the words so softly he was unsure if they were even said at all. He slowly raised his head, getting the distinct feeling that something was off, wrong.

His mouth was dry, feeling sweat run down his neck as he attempted to steel himself. He couldn’t sit here frozen forever, but the sense of relief that encompassed him turned into a dreadful chill. It was foolish. There was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing had changed in the last few weeks.

Months?

Your words were ominous, but you weren’t to be feared.

With a nervous breath, he lifted his head before his eyes froze on the stranger in his bed.

His body locked as he struggled to pull his eyes away from the repulsive corpse sprawled on his bed. Ghastly pale skin that appeared to mold in multiple places, maggot infested sockets where eyes should’ve been housed, and a slack mouth that melted into skeletal jaw. He could see the bone.

The king couldn’t move fast enough as his gag reflex kicked in, not just at the sight but the putrid smell that seemed to invade his senses. He retched, feeling his throat constrict painfully, but the smell was nothing compared to the body.

He was no stranger to dead bodies, having created many of his own, but there was something about the sight of one in his bed, one that seemed to sink and decay in too many places. In the place where the two of you spent time together. In the place where you should’ve been.

Shaking his head, he stumbled backwards as he tried to get to his feet. After almost failing twice, a sudden surge of fear struck him.

Where were you?

It was dangerous to stray from his side when someone had broken into his chambers to leave him such an unsightly display.

Staggering to the door, he yelled for the guards, afraid to look behind him at the dead body he’d discovered in his bed.

It didn’t make any sense.

You had been right there. How could you have moved so quickly?

“Find them.” he said, the minute the first guard entered his eye sight. “Find them. They have to be here somewhere.”

They stood stockstill, the king growing increasingly angrier the longer they stood and stared at him like fools.

You could’ve been halfway to another kingdom at this point!

“FIND THEM!” he roared, grabbing his sword as he threatened to cut down any who would dare disobey his orders.

“My king.”

He whipped around at the sound of your voice, eyes wide and wild.

“Don’t you know that I’m already gone?”

Where was this voice coming from? It was yours, but you weren’t here. You weren’t…

His eyes slowly made their way back to the corpse on your side of the bed. The same place you’d always slept. The place where you’d been for the last couple of months, sleeping.

But you were sleeping, you couldn’t be…

No.

He shook his head, not wanting to come to terms with reality. It couldn’t be. This body wasn’t yours. It looked nothing like you.

I’m sorry.

It was all they could say.

I’m sorry.

Each and every doctor he’d called to check on your condition.

I’m sory.

Even his own words that he’d realized he said too late.

He was too late and you were gone.

The sword clattered to the ground, the king’s quick breath becoming painful as bile forced its way up and out of his body.

The body was you.

No.

Don’t you know I’m already gone?

No. Who said that? He’d heard you. He heard your voice. It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be you. It couldn’t be you. It couldn’t be you.

The king apologized! He said he would do things differently and he meant it this time. He wouldn’t let his anger get the best of him. He would try to understand you better. If anything his time apart from you proved that he could patiently and wait for you, so you couldn’t be gone. Not when he was finally ready to make things right.

I’m sorry.

Gripping at his hair, he let out something akin to wail that sounded unsettling and inhuman as he began pulling at the strands to rip his hair out. He fought against the hands that grabbed at him, forcing him to the ground to stop him from hurting himself, but he only had eyes for you.

He only had eyes for you.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #gn reader #ask #king!yandere #king yandere #yandere king x servant reader

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keto-keyes · 1 month

Text

Slytherins with a non!Deatheater S/O

Imagine/preference

The Slytherins are down bad for their partners. So how do they rip off the band aid and break the news that secretly, they're all bad?

Mattheo Riddle:

We all know he's a bad boy with a bad attitude

...except around his S/O

He doesn't try to hide the blood on his hands, but uses the excuse "I was protecting you"

He does actually do it to protect you, don't worry

His dad threatens to end you if he refuses to do his Deatheater duties

So he makes sure to keep you around him whenever he can to make sure you can't get hurt

Our boy stresses the heck out whenever you get even the smallest bit injured

It might start fights sometimes between the two of you, but you KNOW this mamas boy would never lay a hand on you in the wrong way

If you try to join, he discourages it

He doesn't want to psychologically scar you

lots of time together whenever he can kick his dad outta his mind

Then he holds you tight like he's gonna lose you

Don't ever stop loving this man, alright?

Tom Riddle:

It's kinda impossible for you not to know about his...situation

It's all anybody talks about when you're around

But he only wants to protect you

So he makes sure to keep you distracted whenever he must get the job done

He'll take you dancing, or go shopping afterwards

sometimes you might need to clean him up after a scuffle

he lets you, but only if you promise not to ask how he got the injuries

His dad also threatens him with losing you and he could never be complete without his S/O safely in his arms

if somehow you get tangled in his mess of deatheater-ness, he will sacrifice EVERYTHING for you

his only thought is to keep you safe

Theodore Nott:

He doesn't tell you he's a Deatheater until you meet his friends

That's right, he didn't let you meet his friends

not at first

after you meet them, it's kinda like momentum until he finally tells you he's a deatheater

he definitely expects you to hate his ass, but you don't so he's hopeful

he smokes to forget all the horrible things he does.

he does it more once he finally confesses, but tries not to when you're around.

dw, his stoic attitude when you ask him about being a deatheater isn't him being uncaring

he just forgot how to feel remorse after being a human murder weapon for so long.

it's like torture for him, and he hates it

So care for him please, as best you possibly can

Draco Malfoy:

He's probably the most affected by the deatheater thing

If you're dating him, either you're younger than him or your families are close.

So you know all about the deatheater thing

he pretends having a dangerous father is a good thing

like, he can destroy draco's enemies in an instant,

but... he could also force you to join Voldemort, and that's something that can never happen.

you have to either be holding his hand or his cheek AT ALL TIMES,

otherwise his anxiety causes him to start shaking

he'll whisper all his worries as he weeps himself to sleep, and sometime you catch him doing it

his dad only protected him for so long, now it's your turn

Blaise Zabini:

He doesn't talk about it

ever

even when you two have been dating for a while, he doesn't mention it

it's not your problem, it's his

and he wants it to stay that way for as long as possible

he's afraid telling you will somehow lead to Voldemort knowing, and holding it against him

especially since the only thing Voldemort's actually threatening him with is death. extremely painful death.

so he doesn't even mention it.

you know though. you know how painful killing and torturing is for him.

it tears him apart, almost to the point where he wants to smoke with theo

sometimes he wishes desperately that he could tell you everything, but he's scared you would be in danger.

so he stays quiet and lets the anguish build

he doesn't crack. ever

he stays stoic and silent. caring

Pansy Parkinson:

she doesn't like to bother you with the gorey details,

but sometimes they slip out

she breaks down all the time. it's traumatising

but she can't really articulate what she feels

so she just cries as you hold her to your chest/side

yeah, idk i didn't really have any ideas for pansy

Lorenzo Berkshire:

he may be a little flouncy at times, but he cares about your wellbeing enough to protect you

its his main goal in life

so he tries to keep himself between you and the others for as long as possible. like theo

its less of a "you don't need to know them"

and more of a "what? other people? who needs people when I'm your cute bf?" while waving his hands in front of you so you focus on him

he lets you wash his cuts for him

and do his hair in consolidation for not being by your side for a few hours.

Voldemort really can't touch enzo without hurting you.

So he keeps his mouth shut about it a lot.

sweet boy livin in a cruel world, what can i say

#draco malfoy #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #tom riddle #theodore nott #tom riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys #blaise x reader #pansy parkinson #draco x reader

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ilovedilfsandleonkennedy · 9 months

Text

you find yourself staring at your husband...

as you wordlessly take in his appearance.

you remember the last time you kissed him very well. it was little peck to his right cheek.

yet you don´t remember giving him the hickeys on his neck you´re currently staring at.

könig knows what he´s done. of course he does.

he keeps his gaze lowered, clearly avoiding your gaze and silently revelling in remorse making you wonder if these guilty feelings of his are even real or if they´re just a hoax like his love towards you.

"i can explain, love, i was drunk…. i-" he halts as he breathes heavily, trying to take a step closer to you, but stops when he notices you backing away from him.

he was drunk. you almost laugh to yourself.

"no." you say, trying to get the hell away from him.

all those sleepless, exhausting nights wondering if your husband would come home to you again, or if he´d spend the night with some woman he picked up from the bar, have finally brought you to this breaking point.

you aren´t even sad or shocked anymore, just tired and fed up with his bullshit, knowing this numbness has been clouding your mind for a while now.

you stare at the ring on your left hand, your head racing with doubts and thoughts.

"love-"

"stop calling me that." you whisper. he frowns at that.

könig watches you leave the room, reaches out a hand, but then quickly withdraws it, well aware that he´s lost the right to touch you a long, long time ago.

"i know i´ve messed up, i know that. but please, please," he begs but it doesn´t faze you, "don´t give up on us. don´t do this."

"there is no 'us'", you mutter, "there never was an 'us' and there never will be an 'us' ever again."

you grab a bag to pack your belongings, as you'd rather burn alive than spend another minute in this hell.

"please wait, please.. i can´t imagine my life without you, without your warmth."

'then why did you sneak out and seek the warmth of another woman?'

his heart is racing as he finally realizes the magnitude of his mistakes, "let me explain. i was just trying to escape my problems for a moment-"

"your problems?" you scoff, "'for better or worse', remember?" you scream.

könig doesn't say anything, he just stares at you while tears well up in your eyes.

"if you´re dealing with problems, you´re supposed to talk to me about them and not go and fuck someone!"

"love, i´m so sorry-"

"i´m leaving." you say, ignoring his attempts, "i´ll stay at john´s until we got this figured out. until you fucking learn how to respect a marriage," you shout, angrily poking your finger in his chest.

he´s silent again, the only reaction are his eyes widening at your outburst.

it makes your blood boil that he doesn't show any kind of reaction. he doesn't even try to get you to stay. he´s not trying to convince or pressure you into staying either.

and you realize he never really fought for you. he never did.

"i understand." no he doesn´t.

"you will also give me your signature because i want a divorce," you finally say, "i can´t do this anymore and i´m afraid forgiving you over and over again for your mistakes is gonna kill me eventually."

"a divorce?", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

—

this is so bad aaaaa, anyway should i make a part 2?

#könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig #könig x you #könig angst #angst #könig x reader angst #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii

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anantaru · 1 year

Text

— not saying “i love you” back

including scaramouche, ayato, alhaitham, cyno x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, we‘re evil (especially in cyno's part)

— scaramouche

"and please don't forget to buy some fruit!"

you sing over to your boyfriend, musing with a pacifying, settling timbre in your voice when scaramouche indisputably turned around one last time before leaving for the grand bazaar.

in any other occasion, the two of you would proceed to go together, hand in hand, strolling through the entirety of Sumeru City while sauntering in midst the many food vendors to stock up for the upcoming week.

"i will, stop repeating it all over again."

he's gutted, scrunching his eyebrows with indistinct wrinkles showing on his forehead, "i'm not stupid." obviously, kuni was barking back in his usual fashion, tiptoeing around the edge of your nerves.

"obviously you're the smartest."

you responded, with a crooked little grin accompanying your teasing, the taunting that had your boyfriend weak on the knees, making him all giddy but he wouldn't admit it, ever.

he sighs, acting a bit peeved, but in truth he could barely muffle a laugh, or a little giggle at least, "whatever, i'm leaving." your eyes follow him, watching as he walked towards the exit, speaking once more. "bye, love you."

"bye!"

okay, well, maybe you were evil after all.

you weren't sure what brought you to the realization that, yes, maybe now was the right time to poke fun at your boyfriend, provoke scaramouche to tickle a sweet, little reaction out of him.

the moment he had heard you speak, he didn't move, as if he was waiting for the last few sentences he was sure, you must've forgotten.

"really? is that all you got to say to me?"

scaramouche was swaying from leg to leg, left to right, killing time and fiddling his thumbs as his eyes dangerously proceeded to throw daggers on your resting frame, yearning for attention. "mhm!"

as it was, you didn't seem to care, at all, it was both irritating and off putting.

aside from how you were innocently resting on the couch while browsing and paging through a little picture book you bought a while back, you were still, ignoring him, thoroughly indulging in it.

right off the bat, his face tweaked, his left brow twitching in displeasure.

actually, there were two possible routes to take right now, he figured; one, he could either just brush it off and go on about his day or second, he'd go back and find out what he had possibly done wrong this time.

obviously it must've been something quite significant, because normally it's you who's saying 'i love you' first and he needed, no, he deserved to hear that, right now.

so .. how dare you forget about it just like that? without an inch of remorse?

scaramouche was standing upright, shoulders confidently jolted back, while walking to where you were sitting st, and you noticed, of course you did, yet you pretended you didn't, fully immersing yourself into your other activity.

"hey." he speaks lowly now, a little confused but he's got the sprit before carefully lowering himself next to you.

"what's so interesting about this?"

he's ignorantly swatting his hand towards the little book in your grasp, his eyes were now, a touch lower, as if he was sad and actually concerned. "weren't you going somewhere?"

you were expecting this, flawlessly guessing his next step.

yet you opted to burst the bubble before you'd end up giving your boyfriend a heart attack.

meanwhile scaramouche couldn't believe his own hearing, momentarily he was more than fed up, bewildered, "you know what? forget it."

he pursed his lips, you knew he wasn't good with words so when he made an effort to angrily get up from his seat, you quickly wiggled your arms around his waist to drag him down again, nuzzling into his back when scaramouche plopped back into the cushions with a low heave.

"i was just messing with you." you're clasping on him tighter, further when you noticed a slight shake in his body, "forgive me please."

you're mumbling, hardly a whisper, as scaramouche cradled his body to face you, his lips carved into a purse, it was visible on how displeased and worried he had gotten.

he's accepting your apology in his own ways, kind of.

curling himself into your hug and precisely positioning his lips so they’d ghost against your ear, "do this again and i‘ll get back at you." gently kissing your earlobe, "but so much harder."

— ayato

"i will be free to retire from my duties tonight."

ayato spoke in a tranquil approach while applying a moisturizer on his face, gently massaging it into his skin.

"i'll fetch you later so you can join me for dinner."

it was quite usual for the both of you to plan your day ahead post slumber, above that going over ayato's schedule in particular which was mostly tightly packed and overfilled.

"sounds good to me." you're quick to slip into a cozy garment before lowering yourself to the vanity in his bedroom, smiling and carrying on to finish your daily routine.

taking this into consideration, ayato was set to start his day, slipping himself into his jacket before walking back to you once more.

he's lowering his face to charmingly nudge your jaw, "i'll be leaving now." his knuckles gently stroked down your nape while pondering softly.

subsequently, he quietly settled his lips on your cheek to plant a chaste goodbye kiss on you, "i love you."

that being done, ayato stood tall to walk out of your shared bedroom because normally, in any other instance, you'd say it back anyways, no reason for him to wait.

"until later!" your fingers moved idly over your face, not gifting him a single look back, whatever it was— that was developing right now, ayato at first, had no clue about it.

especially once he's almost reached the door, he figured, wait a minute, how come you still didn't say it back?

strange, he thought.

ayato narrowed his eyes and turned around, carefully observing you, extending all his senses in efforts to get behind the little mystery, and then, in the blink of an eye, it clicked and resonated in him.

"oh." ayato put his deepest, commanding voice, his scent, still hovering throughout the entire room, making you nervous, "so that's the little play you have issued for me today."

you're clearing your throat upon noticing the slight vibrations on the floor, emphasizing that he was walking towards you.

"i don't know what you're talking about, baby."

feigning innocence, you so early deciphered that it was in vein, coming from the mere fact that now, your boyfriend had an amusing grin spread across his smooth lips. "you don't know?"

he slowly clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, quietening his steps once reaching your body and placing his hands on top of your shoulders, watching you through the mirror of the vanity.

he's leaning forward, his shadow overcasting a spell on your body that had all your earlier confidence dissolved into nothingness, you caught yourself panicking and cradled your head to the side to meet his own.

"you know i'm utterly displeased if you act this way."

along the thin skin of your jaw, he planted short kisses on your flesh, his warm, minty breath ghosting over your face, "what way?"

you really wanted to know it now, desired to jump into the cold water without any safety measures.

you took a hard swallow and prolonged the eye contact, "like a brat."

you crooked a smile and then laughed, breathlessly giggling at him.

"ugh, i thought i would win today!"

you, in defeat, dramatically leaned back into the chair to render yourself defenseless, next, cradling his cheek to kiss him tenderly, "sorry."

his animated smile turned your heart ablaze, he was so outlandishly handsome even though he had just woken up half an hour ago.

ayato returned your kiss at the same time, liquifying your touch into his own when he drew himself back, a little, with you still being capable to taste his lips.

"now." he pauses for a brief instance, just a bit, before feebly nudging your nose, "say it back."

— alhaitham

alhaitham had told you, consistently, to be more mindful about your surrounding, urging you to take of yourself, most importantly your overall health.

and at any time you would assure him that you will listen, yet only shrugging his solicitousness off as nothing more than a small scale characteristic of his 'protective boyfriend' nature which traits he would display occasionally.

yet there you were now, sadly— and much to your dismay, vastly nauseous from coughing your literal heart out and attempting to get rid of the gnawing burn in your throat, your stomach churning after every inch of your muscles pulsing.

obviously for alhaitham personally, it was quite funny in the beginning, after all he had told you numerously to look after yourself, that there was a serious flu going around in Sumeru City.

so .. for you to not listen to his advice after all? let's say he wasn't surprised.

"how's my patient doing?" you can hear your boyfriend sing from across the room as you narrowed your eyes upon noticing that damned grin induced on his face, especially at the amusing little ring surrounding the color of his voice.

"what do you want?"

you're speaking lowly, a little raspy while fighting the soreness in your throat, "did you get my medicine?"

you weren't sure if alhaitham purposely took his time to get your treatment or if it was you, in fact, who didn't have any patience left in your frail body.

"of course i did." he's forcefully rolling his eyes, acting all dramatically while childishly swaying the package in his hand.

"what would *you* possibly do without me?"

folding your arms over your body, you intently stared at him now, as if the sole reason he got up in the morning was to get the best of you, mess with you or maybe punish you for not listening sooner.

alhaitham dropped himself onto the bed where you were currently residing in, comfortably nuzzled up in your blanket when you noticed the apparent shift of weight on the mattress.

you're reaching your hand out for the medicine, an invitation clearly made in vein, "can i?" the chill in the air cuts through the haze and pain in your throat, bringing your boiling blood singing on the surface of your cheeks.

as alhaitham made no effort to actually hand it to you, you were on the brink of snapping, attempting to grab it yourself yet he quickly pulled it back. "now, now." he speaks, amused.

"what do we say beforehand?"

"you're joking." your words are short, clumsy and there was something utterly repellent about the hilarity in alhaitham's tone and mannerism, "i'm not."

you're huffing out an exhausted sigh, reflecting the situation in your mind as to how you could pay him back for this behavior, clearly you were aware of how your boyfriend tends to act, how he could be quite a smart ass to you, but mostly to everyone around him.

instantaneously alhaitham breathlessly laughed as he noticed you zoned out, carefully planting the medicine in your palm, "yes, i was joking." his hand drew itself to your cheek to playfully nudge the flesh when he continued his sentence to you, "you're lucky i love you."

"whatever." you spoke and abruptly closed your hand to plump back into the velvety cushions of your shared bed, fully averting his gaze.

"you can go now."

there is a pause before he said anything, your face was hidden in the pillow when he watched over your shoulder.

"so .. you won't say it back or?"

"nope." you were quick to shush him, "really?"

"yes."

"are you sure?"

"yes."

it was an instinct when he suddenly let out a laugh, but an inaudible one, the sound not echoing through the room when it unexpectedly went back to silence.

okay, well, maybe he was a bit harsh today, he figured, you were sick after all so your reaction was valid.

alhaitham carefully sank himself further into the bed so you could perceive his warm body flushed against yours, his broad arm lazily falling over your waist, "okay, okay, i got the message."

whispering in defeat, you suppressed a giggle, cradling your head so you could look at him, "what do we say beforehand?"

the mock in your voice was evident and he did not mind, replying with a chaste kiss on your forehead, "i'm sorry."

— cyno

when it came to something as crucial as playing tcg with your boyfriend cyno, he always urged you to never hold back, to ruthlessly crush him with your cards.

most of the times your boyfriend would get quite competitive as well and you, in all honesty, did not mind. It was cute, really, how his face would slightly scrunch up whenever you were able to land a pivotal hit on one of his cards.

but what was a game .. without some additional fun tucked into it?

especially since cyno was overall a protective boyfriend, you'd love to tickle a new reaction out of him that you never experienced beforehand.

"it seems your cards aren't working well together."

he speaks volumes, two little dimples appearing on either side of his mouth as he chewed on the insides of his cheeks, concentrating and figuring out his next move to take.

"you're always so cruel to me, cyno."

you suddenly blurted out, adding a little mewl.

at this, his eyes abruptly widen in irritation, it wasn't particularly the sentence itself that made him struggle to comprehend what you just said, but the way you had phrased it.

"what?" he says at last, slowly tugging his cards to his body, "you never let me win!"

the contents of his mind have been pinned to your face, eagerly, attempting to decipher what the hell was going on right now.

"and i thought you love me, hm, whatever."

you quickly had to hide your face from him, biting back an evil laugh that was just about to spill when he laid his cards down the table.

"wait." he's panicking and for a moment, you felt bad for even playing this little trick on him, or, messing with his emotions, "of course i love you."

your fingers were playing with the hem of your shirt when you acted reluctant to answer.

"oh, that's awkward now."

your mouth split into a half grin, unable to prevent yourself from keeping up your devilish scheme but archons, cyno's face was priceless, he was absolutely bewildered, as if your words alone gave him serious whiplash.

"speak clear to me now."

his words dried in his throat, agonizingly slow, looking just as horrifying as if he was in the midst of working his occupation as a matra, fighting to the brink of utter death.

"when did you plan to tell me that you didn't harbor the same feelings for me after all?"

cyno couldn't feel his heart anymore, yet it was thrumming expressively under his ribcage.

you breathe in and hold it, nostrils flaring, before you bursted out in a long laugh in front of him, hiding your mouth with the palm of your hand.

"i was just messing with you!"

needless to say, cyno, didn't find it hilarious at all, clicking his tongue while aiming to get up from his seat when you were quick to jump out of your own, dipping him back into the cushions.

"i'm sorry!" you nervously hugged him, tightly wrapping your arms around his neck, "don't be mad."

if only you weren't so sweet or the love of his life then maybe, he could've stayed mad, or at least lectured you about your wrong doings.

but cyno, did not speak at all, rather did he draw himself into you before leaning in to meet your eyes, propping his chin on your shoulder.

"you're a menace." he exhales with a shuddery laugh, shaking his head in disbelieve and rubbing his eyes awake.

the look of deep concern was still vividly noticeable when he danced his hand over your back soothingly, "now's the time." he suddenly words to you, imploring the obvious with his lips barely moving an inch.

"the time for what?" you were confused, lightly pinching his cheek.

"to say it back." he gazes up, his eyes softening like liquid fire, "you forgot to say it back."

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 3 months

Text

Aren't We Just Terrified?

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, hostage situation, blood, angst, death threats, Ghost going batshit

Words: 4.5k

Synopsis: Time is up...

You are currently reading chapter 13 of The Roommate Series

You weren’t getting out of this alive.

The moment that the man had ended the phone call with Ghost, he had broken the phone and threw it on the ground. He spoke quickly to the other men in Russian and you watched them walk out of the room without hesitation. He stood in front of you in the middle of the room, his attention turning back to you.

You swallowed hard, your cheek still stinging from his slap, as you waited for him to make his move. You tried to control your shaking, your eyes burning into his as he stared at you with eyes that made your stomach turn.

You had never known someone to embody evil until you had met him.

There was nothing in his eyes, a complete lack of any remorse for his actions towards you and presumably anyone else who had met the same fate as you in the past. They were dark, a void of blackness that unlike your Ghost’s eyes, was not at all comforting or warm.

They would haunt you if you ever got out.

He stepped closer to you and you pressed yourself against the wall, ignoring the pipes that dug into your back and the rope that bit into your skin. He kneeled in front of you, the gun hanging in front of him as he titled his head to get a better look at you.

You hated the way he stared at you. There was a strange hunger in his eyes, as if they thought of killing you sent a rush through him.

“A ‘college’ student, yes?” He wondered and you flinched. “How did you end up with ‘the Ghost’?”

You said nothing. There was nothing you could say that would help your case or Ghost’s and you were afraid that if you said anything wrong that he’d lose his temper. He showed you once already that his patience runs out quickly, so you weren’t willing to test how quickly it would take to make him angry.

“It doesn’t matter.” He tapped the barrel of the gun against your knee. “He won’t make the same mistake when he finds you, wherever I decide to put you.”

“But you said you’d give them eight hours and that I’d be let go if-”

“If they give it. You overestimate your value.”

He smiled and his eyes went black, an amalgamation of evil and viciousness as he raised the gun up to your face. He chuckled when you flinched and grabbed your jaw when you tried to look away and made you look at him while keeping the barrel in your line of sight.

A panicked breath shuddered out of your chest as you looked from the gun to him frantically.

“I never said I’d give you back alive.”

Your mouth went dry. You felt faint, from the blood loss or from the realization that you were about to die you didn’t know but if it weren’t for the fact that you were tied up to the pipes, you would’ve fallen over.

You couldn’t look at him as your body froze. There were no tears or shaking. You weren’t sure if it was acceptance or your mind preparing you for when the man would take your life.

Would he shoot you now? Would he shoot you at all? Maybe he was cruel enough to draw it out…

The man pushed your head away and stood up. You prepared yourself for him to raise the gun and shoot you, but he walked away from you towards the door.

“Preparations still need to be done.” He said and shut the door with a loud slam.

For a moment all you could do was sit there in silence. Your limbs were heavy with dread and you couldn’t move, your mind had gone completely blank. It was like you were somewhere else entirely, no longer inside your own body as you stared at the concrete floor with empty eyes.

You weren’t getting out.

You were going to die here.

There was so much that you still had left to do. So much that you wanted to do that you had waited years to do. It felt silly that you never went to college right after high school now that you were about to die. If you had, you would’ve had time to do what you really wanted to do in life and to go to the places you wanted to before you died.

But if you hadn’t gone to college when you did, you never would’ve met Simon…Ghost.

You would have never known him, the man you deemed to be the love of your life, and you never would’ve been able to become friends with him. All the time you wasted on the what ifs before you got together felt stupid now that you knew he loved you just as much. You should’ve spent more time with him, should’ve told him you love him more, should’ve told him you loved him from the beginning instead of waiting.

There was so much the two of you were going to do together. There were so many memories you were waiting to make with him.

The light flickered and caught your attention, bringing you partly out of your shock. You looked around the empty room, at the concrete walls that would be the last thing you ever saw before you looked to the rusted pipe that you were tied to.

You grabbed the metal and looked up at the ceiling where it connected to a series of other pipes. You gripped it tightly and gave it a harsh tug, watching all the pipes shudder from the force.

You tugged again. And again. And again.

You kept pulling against your restraints and the pipe with as much strength as you had. You listened to the creaks and groans from the pipes behind your thumping heartbeat and swallowed the lump in your throat. Your body ached, your head hurt and you felt sick but you continued to try to break the pipe.

If you died, you weren’t going to let it happen without a fight. You were going to fight until your body gave out, until you were too exhausted, until he killed you quick and easy.

You’re not sure how long you sat there trying to break out of it, an hour maybe even almost two, but every second counted. Sweat rolled down from your temple and you began to feel faint again, but you refused to give up.

Outside of the building you heard rumbling, a sound that you immediately recognized as an aircraft of some sort but you didn’t pay too much attention to it. There was no time to waste.

“Come on, come on.” You huffed out under your breath as you placed your feet against the wall and pulled back as hard as you could. “Please, please.”

The pipe dislodged and rattled against the wall. You fell onto your back and you took a moment to catch your breath as every part of your body felt heavy against the concrete floor.

The ropes were still around your wrists and burned against your skin. When you rolled over on your side you looked down to see some of the threads turning red from your own blood and you grimaced at the pain that coursed through you.

The men would come back soon and you had to get rid of the ropes.

You bit into them immediately. You tugged on them as hard as you could while you wiggled your wrists, ignoring the pain and the few tears that rolled down your cheeks. Before long, they were loose enough that you quickly threw them off and felt blood trickle down your wrists.

You stood up on shaky legs and rushed towards the door. A curse left your mouth when you tried to open it but it didn’t budge. There was no way out of the room except through the door and it was entirely made of metal.

You’d have to wait for them to come back.

You went back to the pipes and grabbed onto the one that you broke. You pulled hard and tried to break it off the wall in hopes that you’d have something to defend yourself with.

The pipe fell and you struggled to hold onto it from how heavy it was. The end smacked against the floor, causing the pain in your head to get worse and you hissed.

It was too heavy for your beat up muscles and weak state, but you couldn’t let go. You needed it, it was probably the only thing that was going to keep you alive when the men came back.

You heard footsteps outside of the door and you quickly moved behind it. Your heart beat so fast your chest hurt, and you tried to keep control over yourself and your emotions.

You don’t think you’ve been this terrified in your life. One wrong move and you’d be gone.

The door unlocked and opened with a loud squeak. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to ready yourself for a fight.

One of the men, the one who followed you at campus, walked in. He stopped when he didn’t see you against the wall and let out a loud curse in Russian.

You ran from behind the door and swung the pipe at him as hard as you could. He screamed when it connected with him and you shoved him out of the way. You didn’t wait to see if he would stand up or not, you bolted out of the door and into the hallway.

You sprinted down the hallway, unsure of which way to go, while the man yelled behind you. The walls of the building all looked the same. Every turn you took confused, yells echoed throughout the halls and you felt faint.

You eventually found the stairwell but just as you did, gunfire began to ring out. You jumped, panic flying through you,

Were they shooting at you? Was Ghost here coming to get you?

It didn’t matter, you weren’t going to wait to find out.

You raced down the stairwell, the gunfire in the distance sending your nerves over the edge. You raced down the stairs to get to the first floor. You had to get out, you didn’t want to be part of the firefight that was taking place within the walls of some abandoned building that no one even thought about anymore.

You opened the door out of the stairwell but just as you came out into the hallway, your captor turned around to see you. In the split second he saw you, he raised the gun and the bullets narrowly missed you.

You sprinted back up the stairs and heard him race after you. You slammed through the door that led to the third floor and entered a random room, two bullets hitting the door just as you entered.

It was an old supply room filled with crates and shelves that had dust all over them. There were old windows on the other side of the room that you ran to but there was no time to break them to jump as you heard his footsteps approach.

You hid behind one of the crates and tried to quiet your breathing. The door slammed shut and you clenched your jaw, thinking for just a moment that you could jump out one of the windows but you were already three stories up.

If you could sneak around him and get to the door, you could run back out and be free.

“You could’ve made this easy for yourself.” He said from the door before he began to walk through the room. “I would’ve made it quick.”

You listened to his footsteps and crawled around the crate away from his view. You tried your hardest to stay as quiet as you could while he made his way through the room searching for you. You jumped when he pushed over a shelf that clattered loudly but hid yourself behind another crate.

The door was still halfway across the room and it was possible he’d shoot you if you attempted to run right for it.

You eyes caught onto a rusty wrench a couple feet from you and you grabbed it just as he shoved another shelf down. Clutching it made your heart race more but you couldn’t allow yourself to hesitate; if this was how you’d survive you had to do whatever it took.

“You think that you’re safer with Ghost? You have no idea who he really is, what he’s willing to give up for his own needs.” He taunted and you scrambled closer towards the door.

You wanted to argue that he wouldn’t. Ghost had done nothing but make you feel safe, he would do anything to protect you, and you knew he was coming to get you. You’d never believe the words that came out of a man who kidnapped civilians.

He knocked over a couple more crates and a shelf, his rising frustration becoming more palpable. He seemed to get more frantic and you listened to him walk back towards the door.

There was no way around it.

When he got closer you jumped out from behind the crate and swung the wrench at him. You managed to hit his arm with it and the gun was sent flying across the floor as he yelled out in pain. You went to swing again but he grabbed your wrist and twisted it, causing excruciating pain to flash through you.

You cried out and dropped the wrench, trying your hardest to break away from him before he punched you in the face. You nearly fell to the ground but instead you grabbed him and dug your fingernails into his skin while you hit him as hard as you could.

Pure adrenaline raced through you and bit into his skin so hard you tasted blood. He screamed and you kneed him in the crotch as hard as you could before pushing him away.

You scrambled for the gun, falling onto the floor as you clutched it with an iron grip and turned towards the man. You aimed it the best you could, remembering briefly what Ghost had told you to do while the man quickly regained his composure.

The door opened and you pulled the trigger.

The helo had carried them to your location in record time, not even two hours had passed before they were flying above the empty factory you were held hostage in.

They were so incredibly lucky that whoever had kidnapped you didn’t destroy your actual phone or toss it at a different location. With little time Laswell had gotten your location and it wasn’t even that far from the location the man had given them.

From there they would split up. If they were being truthful then Price and Gaz would keep you safe until he got to you, if not then he’d find you in the factory and get you out by all means necessary.

The entire flight Ghost was on edge. On the outside he seemed as composed as he usually was, maybe just a tad more tense than he normally was but on the inside he was fighting to keep his sanity.

If he couldn’t reach you in time he might not recover. He might become someone who he had buried a long time ago, someone who had become so hellbent on revenge that he barely had enough to rebuild himself back again.

He’d make him regret it until the very moment he was buried six feet under.

“This is a rescue mission first.” Price’s voice cut through the comms and he turned his attention to his captain. “We get her out-”

“John, we need information.” Laswell interrupted and Ghost clenched his jaw. “We rescue the hostage but we keep the target alive. We don’t know how much he knows.”

“If the target needs neutralized then we’ll do what we need to.” Ghost said and watched his teammates glanced between each other.

They knew what he was thinking. They didn’t feel the same way as he did about the situation but they knew he wouldn’t stop at anything to get you to safety. He’d deal with the consequences later and he didn’t care what it cost him.

Nothing else mattered but you and he’d forsake the entire world if it meant your safety was guaranteed.

Laswell was quiet for a moment and he stared at Price who had a serious look on his face. Out of everyone, his captain would understand, it wasn’t like he had never bent the rules in order to achieve what he wanted or to save he wanted to.

“You have full execute authority.” Laswell said and that was all he needed. “But we need him alive, Ghost, do the right thing.”

The right thing would be killing him. The right thing would have never been putting you in this situation in the first place. The right thing would be fixing this entire mess before he lost you for good.

Price gave him a knowing look. He knew his lieutenant but said nothing as he addressed them all as the helo began to descend near the factory.

“Soap, Ghost, clear out any hostiles in the factory as you need. Local police will join you on the ground. Radio in once you find her and the target.”

“We’ll work on getting our own intel.” Gaz cut in and locked eyes with Ghost. Kill that bastard, he could hear him saying, take the gloves off and kill him. “Focus on getting her back.”

Ghost didn’t think twice to nod. He’d use his best judgment, try his hardest to compose himself because while you were in danger this was his job and he knew how easy it was to get a hostage killed. He had to be Ghost, which meant he couldn’t let his emotions take control of him even when he desperately wanted to destroy the entire building to get to you.

“Rog.” He said and the helo touched down.

Ghost and Soap jumped out not far from the factory. The moment his boots touched the ground he pushed his emotions away and focused himself on the building. He immediately set out towards it, clutching his gun as tightly as he could while Soap followed closely behind him.

The air was thick, humid and silent. He could see the police waiting outside the factory and he could only think about how much worse they were going to make this.

“Let me deal with them.” Soap told him and he couldn’t feel more grateful towards his friend. “You go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He mumbled and gave him a quick pat before he raced towards the factory.

He went around the back, searching for an entrance and found a door. Someone stood in front of it with a cigarette in their mouth and he pulled out one of his knives. He didn’t even blink when the knife sliced through the man's throat as he threw it and entered the factory.

“Moving interior.” He called into his comms.

“Right behind ya Lt.” Soap replied.

Ghost kept his gun at the ready as he entered the musty building. His eyes were trained down the halls as years of field experience drove him down one of the halls.

He didn’t have time to check every floor. Every moment wasted was a moment where you could possibly die. He had to think where they’d put you to keep an eye on you and limit your chances of escape.

Any floor above the first. There were four floors from the info that Laswell had found, it’d deter you from jumping out a window and make it harder for you to escape through the stairwells.

He found a stairwell and quickly made his way up without making much noise, all the while he kept his eyes and ears open for any hostiles. He went up to the third floor and began to sweep the hallways.

They didn’t know how many of them were inside. If they had any indication he and the others were inside, they might execute you before he can get to you first. There were two men coming down the hallway almost frantic as they talked too fast in Russian for him to understand.

He hid behind the corner and pulled out another knife. He waited for the men to get closer to keep the upper hand-

Gunshots from below sounded out and he cursed under his breath. Soap radioed in the situation and he heard the men start running towards him.

In an instant he jumped out from behind the corner and threw the knife, striking one of the men in the chest, before he shot the other in the head. It was quick and painless, more than they deserved for touching you, but now time was running out.

He began to check the rooms, getting further and further away from the stairwell. All of the rooms were empty and by the time he got to the other side of the building he was starting to lose some of his composure.

What if he had been too late? What if you were already gone?

There was a commotion at the other side of the building on the same floor as him. He heard two gunshots and then a door slammed before there was silence.

Ghost immediately turned back. He rushed down the halls, listening for whoever had run up here, hoping that maybe it was you, though if that was you being shot at it made his stomach drop. He checked the rooms he missed but every empty room filled his fear which only made him angrier.

You had to be here. He couldn’t have failed you, he couldn’t have failed someone he loves again…

He heard crashes in the distance that got louder as he got closer to the stairwell again. There were only a few rooms on this side and the closer he got, the louder the crashes got.

There was yell and then you screamed.

You.

Your scream sent a chill through his body and for a split second he thought about that nightmare. Your lifeless body, your life cut short because of him, him losing you.

Ghost sprinted towards the room he knew had you in and just as he kicked the door open he saw you shoot a bullet into your captors shoulder. Instinct carried him and all rational thought left him as he rushed up to the man and slammed his gun into his face.

He kneeled on top of him and raised his fist, striking him hard. He punched him again and again, letting the blood from the man’s broken nose and busted face drench his glove as he pinned him down against the cold concrete floor. He kept an iron grip against his and the man tried to fight back.

Ghost wanted to beat him to death, wanted to make him hurt a thousand times worse and make him pay for it. He nearly would’ve, ready to kill him right there in cold blood like a fucking murderer before he heard you behind him.

It was like he was pulled out of a trance.

He was breathing heavily as his fist shook, pain radiating from his knuckles as the blood made the fabric stick to his dry skin. The ringing in his ears brought him back to the present and he stared down at the mangled face of your captor who barely hung on to life.

He couldn’t kill someone in front of you. He couldn’t make this even worse than it was, he couldn’t hurt you any more than he already had.

Ghost shoved away from him and when looked back at you his heart broke.

You were covered in bruises and grime, but mostly blood. Your blood, judging by the matt of it in your hair on your temple, which had soaked your shirt. There was blood on your wrists and dried blood on your arms; you clutched your wrist and as you sat on the ground staring at him with fear.

There was no familiarity in your eyes as they bounced around his face, his mask.

Ghost said your name and he watched instant relief wash over you.

“Ghost…!” You cried and threw yourself on him.

He wrapped his arms protectively around you and kneeled on the ground.

A heavy weight had lifted off his chest as you clutched him as if your life depended on it. He let out a shuddering breath as he placed a hand on your head and listened to your sobs that echoed throughout the room. Feeling your weight against him, knowing that you were still there had him shedding a few tears of his own.

You were alive. Fuck, you were alive.

“I’m here.” He whispered to you as you shook. “I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you.”

Your full body sobs were heavy. Your tears soaked his jacket but he couldn’t care less as he tried to soothe you, tried to calm you down enough so you could at least breathe between the hiccups and your cries.

“Breathe, sweetheart.” He quietly begged as he worried more about you. “Need to see your head.”

But you were inconsolable, unable to control the torrent of emotions as the last couple of hours hit you. You dug your nails into his tac vest as if you feared he would let go of you and you hid your face in his shoulder, refusing to let him pull away to look at your wounds.

You didn’t care about your injuries, you just wanted to be held by him.

Ghost cared deeply. He didn’t know how long you had been kept here, how deep they went and how they might become infected. He knew they hurt and he didn’t want you to feel anymore pain, he didn’t want you to have to suffer any more.

His heart broke at the way you held onto him. At the state of you, at the fact that while you were still alive he had still failed you.

You had come into contact with his work, with the other part of his life he never wanted you to come into contact with and it had nearly torn you apart. He had put you in harm's way and now you were forever scarred.

“Ghost, how copy?” Price’s voice cut through his ear piece and he realized the gunfire had stopped.

“I have her.” He reported back and wrapped his arm tighter around your waist. “Target is incapacitated.”

“Rog. Helo’s on the way.”

“Prep medical.”

Ghost maneuvered you enough to where he was able to hook his arm underneath your knees and picked you up. He gave you a reassuring squeeze when you tightened your hold on him and walked out of the room.

There were so many emotions within him. He was angry at himself, guilt and shame festing inside him for letting this happen, relieved that you were still alive but so anxious about your state that he almost felt sick.

You didn’t deserve this.

Link to part 14

A/n: whoops wrote another fic of Ghost going batshit insane for you haha (it will happen again) Next chapter will be much, much longer I'm sure. also title may change idk

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#the roommate series #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #call of duty #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2

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