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montysstuffs · 4 months

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Heyyyyy 🩷🫶🏾

Ex-husband! Choso who refuses to get remarried because he’s still in love with you. Even though you filed for divorce due to his lack of time, He still comes by the house to take care of the kids and sometimes cooks dinner. You realize that he’s not going anywhere when after every visit he fucks you like the night of your wedding. (NSFw please)?

*ೃ༄ fem!reader, ex husband!choso, overstim, unprotected sex, whiney choso, breeding, praise, mdni. wc: 0.9k

ex-husband choso never stopped loving you, despite the two of you separating.

he couldn’t.

he’s always had a deep love for you, he couldn’t be bothered with trying to move on. he still happily wears his ring, there’s probably never a moment where he takes it off because he’s just that in love with you.

it happens every time. he ends up coming over, claiming he forgotten clothes, wants to visit the kids, anything else. yet once he has you alone with the kids being at your parents house, he shows how much he misses you.

he’s so gentle with his touch—sweet whimpers escape his lips as he creates kiss trails all over your body, savoring your sweet taste that he’s always missed.

“really missed my wife,” he’d mumble out, and his lips felt so soft, tender you started to pulse. it was incredibly embarrassing. yet you and choso both knew he knew every inch of your body. every inch that makes you whine out his name. “gorgeous body. ‘s perfect ‘n all for me.”

“c-choso,” you’d moan, bringing his head close up to your neck. he sucks on your tender collarbone, he’s buried balls deep with you being sprawled out on your back. he’s gripping your thigh, caressing it before he starts to moan against your ear.

you’re nearly losing his mind at how good your warmth swallows him, gripping tight around him, it makes him dizzy. “fuck..”

“hey hey,” he mumbles, hovering over your body, his warm breath wafts against your neck, he’s so addicted to sucking softly on your skin, nibbling it playfully to drag out and elicit the sweetest sounds from your mouth.

“don’t talk baby, jus’ want you to feel me. got me so obsessed,” he goes on to say, and he grabs onto your hand. his hands were bigger than yours, a smooth surface of his palms yet as his fingers interlock with yours, you felt the coldness of the metal. the wedding ring he still wore after all the time brush against his ring finger. “woman, y’don’t know how crazy you drive me..”

choso’s heart pounds the more he stares into your eyes. and he’s always gentle with his rhythm, but with its own sprinkle of roughness.

“can never stay a-away from you,” he moans, rutting himself against you. you’re just tightening and squeezing down on him that his jaw clenches. “baby, ‘m gonna get milked by you again. i-i feel it.”

“kiss me.” you spit out, just yearning for his touch, for more of his taste. at this point, you could care less that the two of you were split. your trembling legs locked around his slim wasist as he’s pumping in and out of you.

your body cutely jerks and jolts against him, your frame he always found out to be so adorable in comparison to him.

he huffs out a breath before furrowing his eyebrows, growing more needy himself. “open your mouth then.”

you do—parting your lips, and choso leans in to kiss you, sloppily. you wrap your arms around him, his soft darkened hair tickles against your forehead, it wasn’t in its usual ponytails. he had it down because after all, he’s always had a thing for you pulling on it.

he moans in your mouth. still jackhammering his hips against yours at full throttle, your legs twitch and rub against his bare back. choso’s so high from your lips, running his tongue, tracing it against yours before you whimper once you feel him reach a hand down towards your pussy to give it a squeeze. he pulls away before whispering against your lips. “tell me you still love me, baby.”

“i-i still love you.” you whined, feeling your orgasm about to reach itself. it was approaching heavily, and your head went back against the pillow. choso’s eyes glimmer at your words, tracing a thumb against your lips before sneaking a kiss onto your mouth.

choso starts panting. “all i wanted to hear,” his muscles flex from his constant friction he creates with his sharp hips. you’re so full, his dick was purely appetizing, all you could even think of was your ex-husband spilling a thick load inside of you like he always does.

it always comes out a lot, thick stringy ropes of cum. his favorite thing to do would be to pull out and let the remains splatter all over your tummy.

“i wanna make you a mommy again so bad,” he stammers out. hiding his head inside of your neck, he’s nibbling near your collarbone once more. his right hand rests on your tummy as he’s still pumping in and out of you, his own strength making him whimper out. “miss seeing your pretty tummy so plump ‘n round. gorgeous body.”

“do it then,” you whined, brushing your heel against his back. his eyes light up, he prepared himself to say something but he just moans instead. choso’s voice, you could listen to it all day, whether he was whimpering or just conversing conversation. “gimme another baby, choso.”

“i’ll give you twins,” he whispers, his voice was undeniably shaky. peppering your nose with kisses. his hips rock back and forth in such a sensual way you find your nails dragging down his back. “but first,” he pauses, stopping mid thrust to bring out your hand, kissing it once. his voice was so gentle, he moans from how tight you squeeze around him.

choso slides off his ring—squeezing it on yours and it was a perfect fit, he leans in to kiss you before letting off a moan. “marry me, again?”

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montysstuffs · 5 months

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montysstuffs · 6 months

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I think you have a craft. Truly.

Can you do more smit with vampire Tyrone. Like how did they meet, how did the reader find out Tyrone was a vampire? How did they fall in love?

A Seduction at Midnight Prequel

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. No smut. Cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Mentions of stalking and manipulation. Mean-ish reader.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. And when he tells you he's a vampire, did you really believe him?

Word Count: 4,143k

Read A Seduction at Midnight

A/N: Since I don't know how to lay my ass down, enjoy a little vamp Tyrone prequel! How did they meet? The previous fic, they weren't actually in love. Reader is just down bad. I mean, wouldn't you be? Thank you so much for the ask, this was fun! No smut, because the party was the first time they had sex, sorry! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios!

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Tyrone

Tyrone knew better. He knew better than to go out among the mortals. The stench of them was unbearable. Every year, humans found more and more ways to debase themselves. They don’t wash, they don’t eat properly, and they drown themselves in buckets of artificial smells. It buried the scent of their blood and he hated it all.

However, his business partner encouraged him to come to the club tonight. Slick Charles was a fast talking, smooth operator that could sell water to a fish. He was ruthless in matters of business. Fed up with hearing his begging, Tyrone decided to come out for one night only.

He much preferred the solitude of his property. Even the parties were starting to dull him. Seen one orgy, you’d seen them all.

Tyrone reclined on the couch in the VIP section, a booth reserved only for him. It faced the dancefloor below, the bar area, the private tables, and the front door. He watched over everything. Watched how the mortals filled their short lives with bigger and louder and messier.

“We doin’ real well, ‘round here Tyrone. Real well. If we weren’t so exclusive, we could snatch up licensing rights quicker than a ho on the wrong corner,” Slick Charles said. Tyrone half listened.

He sat with legs crossed, his hands resting on his knees. The sunglasses he wore did little to dim his vision but it kept the curious ones from making comments about his eyes.

And then he saw you. You were down by the bar, leaning over it in a sinful red dress that left little to the imagination and yet, still covered much of your body. Only the middle was cut out, thin straps crossing over your tummy. You kicked up one leg, showing red bottom “fuck me” heels. Your body dimensions were out of this world.

Tyrone kept watch while you flirted with the bartender to score free drinks. Slick Charles was still droning on, but Tyrone made a mental note to address the bartender issue. You carried the trio of drinks to a private table with two other women dressed similar to you. Their dresses were much shorter, scantily clad, with pieces of material over their bodies. Barely enough to call it a dress.

Tyrone took a deep breath, sifting through scents until he was sure he smelled you. Something natural and earthy, like fresh rain. The more he took in your scent, the more his mouth salivated.

Your scent hit him like a ton of bricks. Your blood sang to him. Called to him. Tyrone lowered his glasses, looking at you over the top of them. You were intoxicating. How were you still unmarked? How had no one claimed you yet?

“See, what I was thinking was at least one other club. Like on the east coast maybe. I did such a good job here, I know I can bring that Slick Charles flavor over there, know what I mean?”

“Slick,” Tyrone said.

“Yeah?”

“We’re not franchising. Who is that?” Tyrone kept his eyes on you, too afraid that if he looked away, you’d disappear and take that tempting aroma with you. You were a temptress. Sent here to provoke him.

“Duncan, party of three,” Slick responded. “I didn’t get all of their names.”

A kernel of anger coursed through him. How dare you smell so good? He licked his lips. He had to have a taste of your blood. Hunger pains made him place one hand over his stomach. He hadn’t reacted this strongly in centuries. He could hardly recollect what happened then.

Tyrone replaced his shades and watched as you mingled with your friends, drinking and clinking your glasses. He longed to hear what you sounded like, what you tasted like.

You

You were so fuckin’ sick of your bitchy friend. You smiled and clinked glasses with them and encouraged London to take another shot. You looked to your other friend, Amanda, and you shared a look.

London was back on her “I hate Carlos” bender, which meant going out nearly every night in too tight dresses and heels, cruising for men she wasn’t going to take home. As soon as her Instagram blew up with pictures of her having fun, dressed up sexy, and hanging onto random men, Carlos would call.

He’d beg and cry and sniffle until she took him back and it was another few months before they were breaking up again. You and Amanda had long ago stopped trying to get in the middle of that bullshit. You were sick of the cycle.

You were not looking for a man and you hated how pushy these dudes were. They sent over drinks, tried to sidle up to the table, grabbed your waist to try and pull you onto the dancefloor.

You wanted to stick your stiletto in their eyes. You wanted to scratch or maim them. Teach them a lesson about putting hands on women they don’t know. Who fuckin’ raised these animals?

Maybe you were just too old for the club scene. You were approaching your 30s and you were fucking over it. All of these men were raised in the barn. Worse, they were raised under the barn. They stunk, their breaths were horrible, and didn’t have two nickels to rub together but wanted to buy you a drink. Please.

So, no, you didn’t want the hustle and bustle of meeting someone, finding out they weren’t shit, and getting back into the rat race.

You rolled your eyes as London took another fuckin’ selfie with her drink. You had been here an hour and you wanted to dip. You longed for a bath, some smell good, and the next trashy program you could binge watch. You locked eyes with Amanda again. She rolled her neck and gave you a pointed look.

Yes, you were seeing this mess. And yes you were over it. Amanda was the one who came up with the idea of the table. She thought that by supplying London with alcohol and posting all night, you could avoid the drunken desperation of finding any guy that would take a picture with her. You did not have the strength to fight off another fuck boy.

You watched over your friend like a boring mom-friend, wasting your good dress, until she finally got a like from Carlos. “See! Knew that fucker was watching my stories!”

“Why don’t we call it a night? This place is dead,” you said. The place actually looked fun. It had good, grown and sexy vibes. There was ambient lighting all around, shadless bulbs hanging down from the ceiling. The music was grown too. Music you could either dance or fuck to.

The floor itself was spacious with enough room for people to actually breathe. The club limited how many people came in at once. It was a huge place, two levels. The top floor was for the real VIPs. Celebrities, CEOs, billionaires, royalty, or people with that much money to throw around.

Maybe you’d have to come back here with Amanda, without London. “Yeah, it’s no fun when there’s no guy to make him jealous. All these mu’fuckas ugly anyway.”

Sweet-fucking-music to your ears. You gathered your things and slipped out of the booth. You linked arms with Amanda as you waited for London to scoot her tiny ass out of the booth.

“Think they’ll notice if I wear this back here?” You asked.

“Girl no, didn’t nobody fuckin’ see it,” Amanda said.

You laughed with her. “You right, you right.”

Amanda placed her hands on London’s shoulders to steady their drunk friend. Maybe their plan worked a little too well. “Why he gotta act like that?”

You turned your head and rolled your eyes. Crying over a man? You could fuckin’ never. “Because men are pigs,” you said. What else was new? The sky was blue, fire was hot, and men weren’t shit.

You steered London out of the club. Sharp wind smacked you in the face as you left the warm interior. There was a line outside of hopeful people ready to get inside.

Outside, you pulled your phone out of your clutch so that you could call up a ride for all three of you. “She can crash at my place tonight,” Amanda said. London went to sit on the curb, holding her head in hand as she scrolled through her pictures.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

Amanda sighed and looked at London. “Might as well. I think you had her last time,” she said.

You agreed and moved to the side, out from under the streetlight to better see your phone. You typed as you moved. Something heavy slammed into your shoulder and you went careening to the side about to trip over your heels.

Strong hands encircled you and you steadied yourself.

“Yo, what the fuck?!” You shrieked.

“Damn, bitch you don’t see me walking?” Some pimp-lookin’ wannabe looked you up and down. He wore a leather jacket over a black turtleneck and heeled boots. He looked like a damn clown.

“The fuck did you just call me?”

“Apologize to the lady!” A deep, smooth voice moved over you like chocolate. You looked into the face of the one who held you.

Damn. He was gorgeous. Rich, ebony skin. Faint facial hair. Neat cornrows. The sunglasses hid his eyes from you. But those lips. You stared at his lips as they moved.

“...alright?”

“Huh?” You asked.

“Are you alright, miss?” He asked.

You told him your name. He let you go now that you weren’t in danger of falling on your ass. He held out his hand. You took it. His hand was so warm, near scorching. He brought your hand to his lips.

“I’m Tyrone,” he said.

You smiled at him. It had to be illegal to look that damn good. He wore an all black suit, nothing fancy, no jacket. There was a silver chain running from his vest to his pants pocket.

You giggled as his soft lips brushed your knuckles. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said.

Maybe…you needed to rethink your whole stance on men. He smiled without showing his teeth, still holding your hand.

“Are you sure you’re alright? That was pretty rude of that man,” Tyrone said.

You shrugged. “Par for the course. Most men are rude,” you said.

“Well, then, I hope to be the exception.”

***

Tyrone

Tyrone knew better. But he could not get you out of his mind. The night he met you was like a shock to his system. Rebooting the long frozen heart in his chest. You really had no clue how delectable you smelled. He wondered once again how you flitted through life with no one claiming you.

True, vampires were decreed to keep their activities hidden. Only allowed to keep three donors in rotation and even then, not keeping them for long. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to drink you like ambrosia through a straw.

Unbeknownst to you, Tyrone spent his nights learning your routine. A few keystrokes on the computer and he learned where you worked. Keystrokes later, he found your address. Every night since that meeting, he perched in the shadows of your place, looking for any glimpses of you.

He knew when you came home that you locked your car and swiftly headed inside. Not bothering to search your surroundings. Careless. You did at least lock your doors. Your neighborhood was…cute. Seemed beneath someone as gorgeous and smart as you were.

You were undervalued at the company you worked for. Yet, you seemed content with that. Why?

Each new thing he uncovered about you only served to pique his interest more. He had pieces of you but the whole picture wasn’t clear. And it wasn’t enough.

Tyrone watched you for weeks. You were none the wiser. Each night, he thought he’d finally give in and devour you. Your scent was its own temptation. Luring him half across the city. Begging for him to take you and claim you as his.

But then you’d do something cute like tilt your head. Or wear another sexy dress that looked painted on your ass. His dick stirred on more than one occasion as he watched you. He yearned to bury himself in you. Wondered if your pussy tasted as good as you smelled.

He didn’t know what the hell you were doing with your two friends. They seemed beneath you as well. He caught the way you’d look at them sometimes. Like you wanted to set fire to their hair with just your eyes. Why remain friends with them?

In his nightly watches, he never caught a man sniffing around. None? How were you not beating them back with a stick? How did they not harass you day and night, wanting to be in your orbit?

You ended up coming back to the club and he arranged another accidental bump into you, charming you into giving up your number. He already had it. But you didn’t need to know that. He ended up talking to you every second of the day and night.

He had to explain that his job gave him an opposite schedule, sleeping all day and up all night. You seemed to buy it.

He took you out on a few trips. Showing you LA at night. The LA Zoo hosted a special event where they set up lights to look like animals. You glowed in the neon light and Tyrone hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you.

But he held himself back. Only touched your hand or the small of your back to lead you through the crowd. He wanted you to crave his touch. He wanted you to seek out his comfort. So he held off on touching as much as possible.

You were probably used to men pawing at you. He endeavored to be the exception and that was what he was going to do. He took you to restaurants and museums. You marveled at how he was able to get you in after dark. He walked you through the galleries, regaling you with anecdotes about painters and artists. Some he knew in a previous life, but he couldn’t tell you that.

Eventually, you got curious about the shades. Strangely, he didn’t want to lie to you. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Tyrone said.

“Try me,” you said.

You had been going out for a few months and talking all the time. He knew the shades would be an issue at one point. Especially since it was clear he wasn’t blind. Tonight, he took you on a private Griffith Observatory trip. On the deck, he stood beside you and looked out over LA.

“Do you believe in monsters?”

“Like the boogeyman?” You sang.

“Naw, like vampires and werewolves,” he said.

You giggled and shook your head. “Uh, no,” you said.

“Why not?” He asked.

“Are you going to tell me about your glasses or not?” You asked.

Tyrone smirked. “C’mon, indulge me,” he said.

You shrugged and looked out over the cityscape. Why didn’t you?

You

Why would you have a reason to believe in monsters? Sure, you had the odd fantasy about them. The occasional smutty book about being at the mercy of one. But they were all cheap knock offs and underwhelming.

Pale, frigid beings that masqueraded as high school kids. Yuck. The fuck would a vampire want with jail bait? Even if they looked young, they weren’t young. They ought to know better.

“I guess Hollywood made them too clean and sanitized. They’re actors with fake teeth. They don’t actually exist. What keeps them alive? Why blood? Where does it go?” You asked.

“What if I told you they were real?” He asked.

You sucked your teeth. “I knew you were too pretty and perfect. There had to be something wrong with you,” you said.

You giggled, meaning it as a joke. But maybe there was some truth to it. Tyrone always held himself away from you. As if he were afraid that you’d break if he touched you too long. At first it was hot, but dammit. You were a modern woman with needs. Each successful date was like another nail of desire hammered into you.

You lay awake at night, feverish. No one else had been able to rev you up like that. But any time you tried to get close, Tyrone found some excuse to keep his distance. Even when he dropped you off at home, he’d kiss your hand and ask when he could see you again.

Tyrone smirked and rubbed his jaw. “What if I were serious? What if I told you that monsters are real and they’re out to steal your blood?”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, what does that have to do with your shades?”

Tyrone lifted his hands to his shades and tugged them off. He kept his red eyes trained on you. Wait..red?

You backed up a step. He had deep, red rimmed eyes where people would normally have brown or blue. “What the –”

“Don’t freak out,” he said.

“Where’d you get contacts like that?” You asked. It looked so real. Like movie-grade real.

Tyrone chuckled, not showing his teeth. “Naw,” he said. He licked his lips. He stalked closer. He bared his teeth, his canines longer than normal. Pointed and sharp. Sharp enough to pierce skin.

Your heart thundered in your chest. “You can’t really be serious, right?”

Tyrone shrugged. He put his shades back on his face. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see. If you’ll still have me,” he said. He held out his hand and you looked at it.

Was this guy crazy? You weighed who he had been with what you were discovering tonight. Surely, he was just a vamp lover, like a furry. Right? You took his hand. Your curiosity would get you in trouble, but you weren’t done trying to discover what made Tyrone tick. You might regret it.

***

You

Tyrone took your questions with resounding patience. He answered them all. Yes, he drinks blood. Yes, he can run fast. No, he could not shapeshift into a bat. No, he couldn’t turn invisible. Garlic was just another abhorrent smell. Silver didn’t bother him.

“C’mon, you really believe you’re a vampire?” You asked.

Tyrone took off his glasses, safe to do so since you were walking along the outside of the Getty museum. The view was breathtaking. Nothing glowed like LA at night. The twinkle of the yellow and white lights never failed to make you feel alive. One among many but never truly alone.

“Have we ever met in the daytime?” Tyrone asked.

“Well, no but…c’mon,” you said. You couldn’t believe it. “Fangs” and red contacts did not equal a vampire. You didn’t know why you were reluctant to believe it. He seemed too alive to be dead. He breathed, he sighed, he ate food!

Tyrone grinned, showing that hint of fang. The back of your thighs tingled. Desire pooling low in your belly. Everything about him turned you on. Still, he denied you. Only touched you when it was necessary.

When you were fed up with a dude, that was it. You were out of there. But Tyrone was intriguing. Interesting. He kept you guessing. Entertained. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do next. And you wanted to find out.

“Want me to show you?” He asked.

“How?” You asked.

One minute, you were standing outside the Getty. The next moment, you were at the bottom of the hill. You shrieked, holding onto Tyrone’s long sleeved shirt for dear life. You stared up into his flaming red eyes. His smile was predatory.

In the next blink, you were back up the mountain outside the museum. He let you go and you moved away from him, backing into the railing so he couldn’t sneak up behind you.

“You’re…”

He stood away from you, poised as if he were posing for a magazine. “A vampire. Like I’ve been telling you,” he said. That predatory grin was back. He stalked closer. You held your hand up.

Your lip quivered. The mad dash up and down the mountain stole your breath and made you shiver. This was insane. Vampires? Like actual vampires? Blood-sucking vampires?

“So what? You were just playing with your food? Am I gonna end up on a T-shirt?”

Tyrone

Tyrone shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone that far. You stood away from him. The flirty tone you always used with him was gone. Your beautiful eyes were wide, your breathing had increased.

Fuck. If he thought you smelled delicious before, your scent mixed with fear and it drove him wild. He took a step forward before he knew what he was doing.

“No,” he said. He shook his head. He was under control. He could handle himself. “I’m not going to kill you. Would I have taken you on all of these dates if I was? I haven’t even touched you,” he said.

“Why is that?” You asked.

“I wanted you to know me before you found out. Find the man under the monster,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes. Okay, he laid it on a little thick. But these dates only proved how obsessed he was with you. If no one else had claimed you, he was going to. He was going to have you.

Shit. Tyrone clenched his fists and stepped back from you. The tradition. How could he forget? He started the damn thing as a protective measure against discovery. He didn’t want to share you with the others.

He also couldn’t leave you alone. Not until he finally got to taste you. Hold you. Move inside you. Even then, he wasn’t sure that’d be enough.

“So, what? You were just going to date me until you asked for a drink from my wrist?” You weren’t as tense as before. You relaxed inch by inch.

Tyrone approached you. He held up his hands as if to calm down a skittish deer. When he was close to you without crowding into you, you held up a hand.

“I just wanted to know you. You’re interesting,” he said.

“I’m interesting to a fuckin’ vampire?” You asked.

Tyrone nodded. He looked over you, over the olive green jumpsuit you wore. Your heels were going to be the true death of him. If he was lucky enough to take you to bed, you were keeping those on.

“The choice is always yours,” he said. Not. If he couldn’t have you one way, he’d sure as fuck find another way. “I can walk away right now. Leave you alone.”

“No,” you said quickly.

A surge of triumph coursed through Tyrone. He felt like a fisherman with a tricky fish on the line.

“I-I want to know more.”

“Are you sure?”

You bit your lip in that adorable way that made his dick twitch. You nodded and Tyrone answered with his own nod. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

True to his word, he did. He told you all about vampires and how to protect yourself over the next few dates. Though not all the ways. You would never get rid of him. Not if he could help it. He wanted to smell the sweetness coursing through your veins for the end of his days.

You were curious about him drinking your blood, even going as far to offer your wrist once. Tyrone declined and declined, giving you just enough hint to make you stomp your foot and beg for answers.

He told you about the parties and why they were needed. He told you about the tradition. Each new donor was to be stripped and fucked and drunk from in front of the others. Mutually assured destruction. You could go to the cops, but you’d also have a room full of witnesses of you dallying with the devils.

He expected you to balk then. To shut him up and resign yourself to keeping your virtue. To demand that he leave you alone and never speak to you again. Who would agree to such a thing?

You had grinned. Perhaps you had a devil in you already. “Take me to one of the parties then,” you said.

You offered yourself up like a lamb to slaughter. How the hell did he get so damn lucky?

“There’s no going back if I do,” he said. He ran his fingertips up and down your arm.

“I want you to show me everything,” you said with a wide grin.

Tyrone gave you a grin of his own, fangs and all. He pictured your descent into hell and relished the way he would eat you whole.

&&&

Read where it started: A Seduction at Midnight

Need more Tyrone in your life? The Secret Tyrone Files

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montysstuffs · 6 months

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You 🤝 Me

I am a new member of the club. Happy to be here!

we need more Usopp fuckers.

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montysstuffs · 7 months

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Whoops! Looks like you made me slip into an obsession 🫶🏾🫶🏾

Bearing his mark 1

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･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★ ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★･･｡ﾟ★: *.✦

(Juan Ruiz x fem! Reader)

Summary: staying up late to study with a college partner wasn’t such a bad idea, that is until you get a bloodied Juan Ruiz knocking on your door right after your study partner left… quite odd, but your his best friend of course you help him out instead of reading too much into the lines

Warnings: blood, death, injury, bite mark!, cussing,sexual encounter/description, restraint, a bit of dubconish actions, no actual sex

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Word count: 2k

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Authors note: there is literally no fanfics on this man what is the problem.

･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★ ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★･･｡ﾟ★: *.✦

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Juan pov

My heart was pounding inside my head, the blood in my veins coursed throughout my body not finding an end. I don't know why I did what I did but this feeling was taking over my chest as I saw that guy with his hands on (y/n). Maybe it should've been best to stay under the safety of my bed sheets but her scent led me out of bed. I needed to see her, feel her, smell her.. taste her and for some random guy to have his hands around her made my eye twitch..

She was mine

I had blacked out my eyes now scanned my hands, red decorating them, a stench greeted my nose, for a second I trembled till I was met with the now dead man. The same guy that had his hands on (y/n), a smirk decorated my bloody lips, drooling, the irony taste feeling like satisfaction. But a small pit in my stomach made me fret, I had just killed someone, a stranger what would I do?before I could come up with a solid plan my eyes darted to a light being turned on, I had been hiding in y/n's backyard, her room window bright letting anybody see what was happening in the air of night. The boastful feeling that once over joyed me was no longer there, my worry being overtaken with need, the smell of this mans corpse didn't excite me any longer, instead hers made its home in my senses once again. My body followed involuntarily like it had done before..

You were sitting on your bed, smiling like a little girl inlove while your radio was on playing a romantic song. Scrolling through your phone you stared at the contacts list of the mans name, Ethan, the one that had been inside your home. He was a college partner of yours, same class that would help you with your work like he did today except you had a small crush on him. Sure he was a stranger and it could've easily gone south but His amazing sense of style and physical attractiveness interested you, his personality not as much since he was on dry side when it came to conversation making but you were blinded with his looks.

ring*

The doorbell of your house rang you instantly perked up, having said your goodbyes to your classmate only a few good minutes before. "Who rings the doorbell at this time?" You mumbled to yourself as you turned off your radio heading towards the front door. You were a fairly lonesome person only having your small group of friends and your closest friend Juan always around. So, this seemed odd they were never at your house late at night either..

You groaned to yourself as you walked up to the front door swinging it open. A small whiff of the disgusting smell permitting made your face swell in disgust... "what the -". Your next words got caught in your throat, here was Juan drenched in blood, his eyes half lidded in what you thought was exhaustion. "Juan! What -I- what happened to you?!" You yelled immediately ushering him into your home, the precedent uneasy feeling in the back of your head.

He didn't resist, his eyes filled with desire, hunger you could only resolve too enthralled with your hands grabbing onto him and your sweet intoxicating smell to protest, letting you control him like a rag doll .

You threw questions at him left and right, dragging him into your kitchen, which he kept quiet, leaving all of them unanswered but you didn't even seem to notice. All you could focus on was providing aid to what you assumed was his debilitating form. Grabbing a rag you got mentally ready to clean him up and search for wounds. You turned on the faucet, while you continued your rambling. He could only focus on your pulse, your hair had been wrapped up in a bun, putting it on perfect display for him. His mouth started to tingle, imagining the way your skin would fit right between his teeth. Would you taste as sweet as you smelled? Would your blood be the only source of liquid that could quench the thirst he felt in that very moment?

This oddly accelerating feeling was growing unbearable, blood rushing through out his body and without shame to the south of his body causing a tent to grow in his jeans too.

"I've told you I don't like you being out late and this! Who did this to y-" you were cut short, his stiff body acting as a wall when you tried turning, towel in hand. He was only a few inches away, your breath caught in your throat, a deep yellow glow forming in his irises.

For the second time in only a few minutes your words died on your tongue. This was odd, weird... he was not acting normal and the yellow was definitely human. He seemed out of it, lost in your gaze, burning holes through you. Fighting the growing tremble of your lips you called his name "j-juan?". Maybe if you had taken an extra moment to analyze him before letting him in you would’ve had the ability to notice there were no wounds on him, most blood stains seemed to be on his upper body, mouth and hands like he had been eating... an odd shiver ran down your spine at the thought.

Thing was he had told you about these amnesia like thoughts or "dreams", where he'd wake up with blood all over him... but he said it was never anything dangerous, was he in this state right now? would he remember, did he even know who you were?

His breath kissed your face, a small pur fighting its way out of his throat,half lidded eyes still on you. Your mouth ran dry, hairs on your body spiking up, the counter top dug into you as you backed up, Juan pushing his body onto you. The key was to not provoke him... right? you recalled all those times your friends joked he was a werewolf, which he would correct, saying he was a chupacabra which proceeded with them calling him by his nickname, chapi . It was all fiction, fun, them teasing him... but maybe there was a reason why they wouldn't joke like that around you, Juan's glares sent to your friends only when you entered the conversation, left you to capture the general sense of their jokes.

You moved your head to the side, his face getting too close for comfort but he only followed, you whined uncomfortably, both of his hands had you trapped between the counter and his body. A small jolt in your movements as his nose made contact with your cheek, an effort to get away which made him growl disapprovingly, his face digging into your neck, inhaling. The Little receptors of fire built in your cheeks started to go off. Juan's movements reminding you like that of a cat, rubbing it's scent all over on its human owner, except he wasn't a cat or human... not at this moment, with those golden eyes drenched with want.

He aggressively pushed himself further into your chest, not realizing he was much stronger putting your barely visible muscles to shame he made you bend backwards, now laying half down half up on the kitchen counter. You tried protesting leaving the rag behind to instead urge you hand to push on his shoulder but he only swiftly grabbed both wrists in each of his hands to slam next to you. You were now borderline straddling his lap except you didn’t welcome his hips with your feet. Instead the tips of your feet grazed the floor, offering no solid support to let you fight back, you tried tugging fighting at your wrists but your hips bucked, unintentionally causing friction between both your bodies, heart thumping feeling the stiffness in his jeans.

No.. this isn't right

That statement took over your inner thoughts, trying to feel better about your body positively reacting to the closeness of your friend, being excited by your predicament you closed your eyes. His heavy breathe met your neck his lucious lips you had undeniably admired starting to leave lazy open mouth kisses on your neck did not help."M'sorry.." Juan breathed into your neck, slurring the small apology. For a second you were confused, he was sentient? Subconsciously you forgave him, knowing that he was probably not 100% there and that state of mind his body was in far from his control...only if you knew that he was referring to the attack he was contemplating on against you after he let that apology out.

A sharp scream erupted from lips, his teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh of your neck without remorse. It must've sent a shock through him because his body almost immediately jolted back, leaving you to slide off the counter and onto the floor, his heart clenching the pained expression hitting his ears . Your hand immediately aided the now open wound on your neck, stinging tears rolling down your cheeks, as you slowly crawled away, the throbbing ache on your neck making it difficult to breathe.

For a brief moment, he was back to his normal self, aware of what he had done, his chest rose and fell quickly trying to decipher what to do. As he tried to make his way to you to help, his body pulled him back, subconsciously twitching. He fought but his senses started heightening again, he could smell her blood, her tears... a groan emitted from him, his eyes starting to burn. He hurt her... he felt her every breath, skyrocketing blood pressure, and trembling limbs it was overwhelming him, tears stinging his eyes as-well.

While he fought his internal changes, you finally stood up, your legs weak begging to lay down on the floor again but the sight of Juan's body starting to transform, crack into something else pushed you backwards. Maybe if it wasn't for the light headedness caused by the loss of blood you would be running to your bedroom much faster, but successfully the adrenaline kept you a float as you moved to the hallway leading to your room. The walls behind you starting to get painted with the evidence of your fingers dragging on it , splattered with your red essence, your feet battling the persuasive thought of resting as shuffling was heard behind you.

It was obvious this wasn't your dear friend anymore, but something much more wild, a monster who had been hiding behind Juan's skin. His feet stomped on your wooden floor, deep breaths filling up your narrow hallway in frustration. Your heart was beating out of your chest ready to explode before you finally made it into the safety of your own room immediately locking your door. A bang on it made you jolt, backing up to the nearest wall farthest to the door.

Please....

You repeated in your head hoping, praying that this would all end, that you'd wake up and find out it was a silly little nightmare. His efforts to break in grew in size the bangs getting louder making you flinch every time , all you were able to do was clutch your eyes shut, bloody hands being your only sort of comfort, sobs escaping your lips.

A battle like cry erupted from you as a humanoid hand ripped into the door, but instead of short nails it had sharp claws, the skin surrounding the nails dark grey and littered with hair obviously not human. You wrapped your hands around your mouth, trying to stop any noise alerting him... it of your whereabouts, but his hands slowly retracted, leaving a huge gaping whole,

A gasp when you saw it..

It peeked through the new whole, his eyes.. it's eyes were the same deep yellow color Juan's eyes had been when he had you pinned to the counter, your chest fell and rose the eye contact proving a bit hypnotic, for a second your fear was washed away. As if you knew the being behind the door for millions of years... knowing that he would never hurt you, that small illusion broke from the sting on your neck reminding you of its disregard for your well being. But after that small eye contact the animal backed up, you were no longer able to see it through the gaping hole ,instead the comfort of his foot steps, clicks from what you presumed were the matching nails on his leg were hitting the floor fading filled another of your senses, alerting you of it's disappearance. You were left disheveled, neck adorned with dry dark red and fresh blood, dry cheeks from your tears and red eyes.

'What the fuck just happened' you thought while trying to catch your breath and grasp what had just gone down

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montysstuffs · 8 months

Text

Chile lemme-

Sunday

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, multiple uses of the n-word, refer to female anatomy as "she". You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), cum play, breeding kink if you squint, possession kink, size kink, all consensual. Mentions of drug use and drug dealing, allusions to violence and murder.

Summary: You usually visit your grandmother on the weekends but manage to cross paths with Tyrone one day and your life was forever changed.

Word Count: 3,025k

A/N: You ever get an idea you just can't get out of your head? This was me with this fic and I had too much fun writing it! John Boyega got no business being that damn fine and I am absolutely feral. Enjoy my brain rot. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @wakandas-vibranium @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs

Tyrone knew that you didn’t want to mess with no banger. It was only by accident that you two even met. You were visiting your grandmother early in the afternoon. You usually went on the weekends, early in the morning to watch her stories with her and then you were long gone by the time Tyrone rolled out of bed and headed to the corner store.

You happened to be in the neighborhood and stopped to check on her. She was doing fine as usual, except she wanted some ice cream. As always, you told her to get her sugar down and maybe you’d sneak her something. She always managed to find the little piece of candy in your pocket. It was your secret and it didn’t hurt.

As you were walking out of the house, Tyrone pulled up blasting music with the windows rolled down. He caught you looking and gave you one of those fuck boy smiles. Licked his lips and looked you up and down. You intended to ignore him. But hell, you weren’t blind.

He had gotten out of the car lazily. Swinging his legs out of the car and stretching a bit, showing his stomach as his black shirt rode up. He walked up to you confidently and held out his hand.

“Tyrone,” he said. No other words, no other fake ass compliments. Just his name because he was that damn cocky.

You shook his hand and gave him a polite smile. You told him your name and he rolled it around his tongue. “Pretty ass name,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “How many little girls does that work on?” You had asked him.

He nodded and shrugged. “A few, I ain’t gon’ lie,” he said.

“Good, ‘cause I’on like liars,” you told him.

He put his hands in the pockets of his sweats and eyed you up and down once more. He took in the horror movie on your T-shirt. “You watch that shit?”

“I wouldn’t wear if I didn’t,” you told him.

From there, it spiraled into Tyrone waking up just a bit earlier to see you come out of your grandmother’s house. He’d give you shit about whatever was on your T-shirt for the day. Sometimes, you’d wear something wild just to see what he’d say.

“Pussy: Push until she screams yes?” Tyrone read your shirt and burst out laughing. He was so damn sexy. From his cornrows to his big, sexy ass lips, and his deep voice. It was hard not to crush on the man. But you didn’t want to. You didn’t want all the drama that came from his world. Not like he made it fuckin’ easy to resist him.

He was always finding ways to touch you. Whether it was to get your attention, push you, poke you, or pull you closer by your shirt. “I’m just trynna read it, damn!” He’d say and pull you too close where you knew damn well he couldn’t read that shit.

The heat of his body was like a furnace. Like touching a hot stove. LA was already fuckin’ hot this summer. The sun wasn’t pulling punches and neither was Tyrone.

“Come chill for a bit,” he’d say.

“Boy bye, I’m not coming in there with you!” You’d tell him.

It was cool. He’d try again the next time he saw you and the time after that. Your crush got so bad that you were starting to linger if you arrived before he got up. If he wasn’t sitting on the porch when you pulled up, he was definitely sitting on it when you got out. He’d wait patiently for you to visit with your grandmother and he’d ask how she was doing.

Your grandma used to tell you about the nice young man next door. She was always dropping hints about that nice boy who helped her with the groceries sometimes. You thought it was just some punk kid looking for a favor. But to actually meet Tyrone…yeah, you kind of got it.

He was the perfect mix of hood, toxic, and a good man. You didn’t know how it was possible. He probably had a couple of bodies on the gun hanging out of his backside. You couldn’t help but notice it every time he turned around. You were already staring at his juicy ass. The gun made you uncomfortable for a variety of reasons. The chief among them being that at any point, his ass could be taken out by other hood muthafuckas on the block.

That one fact kept you from ever getting too close. It was hard to tell your heart that. The poor idiot just wanted him. So you always found some excuse to leave or bow out. You’d blame it on meeting up with your friends or your parents or work.

Tyrone just gave you that same cocky smirk and he’d tell you he’d miss you. He’d watch you walk away and get in the car. You’d feel his eyes on the back of your head.

“Come chill for a bit. And don’t give me no shit about work or whatever. I know yo ass lyin’,” he said.

“I’on like lying,” you told him.

“Then give me a good reason why you won’t come inside,” he said. He stared at you intently, daring you to contradict him or give him a lame excuse.

“I don’t fuck with bangers,” you told him.

He’d playfully roll his eyes and wave you off. “I don’t even bang like that,” he said.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Sometimes he’d be out here with his friends. You knew dope dealers when you saw them. They were constantly passing bottles and pills back and forth with all kinds of people. Getting money in exchange to do whatever the hell he did with it. Probably spent it on some girl he was fuckin’.

You weren’t jealous, by much. You’d seen the way he walked. That nigga was cocky for a reason. And you wanted no parts. Okay, maybe some parts.

He finally tugged on your hand and led you inside of his house. You were expecting it be gross or filthy. But it was surprisingly clean. He had a couch and some chairs, minimal artwork, and the kitchen was decent. He had a flat screen TV on turned to some game.

He sat down on the couch and pulled you close until you were snuggled up against him. “I’m not fuckin’ you Tyrone,” you said.

He laughed and shook his head. “That’s yo nasty ass mind in the gutter. I just wanted you close to me,” he said.

“Mhm,” you muttered.

His phone rang and he picked it up. You couldn’t hear what the other person was saying but you knew it was a woman. You smirked at him while he looked at you. “I’m a little busy,” he said to the person.

The person began yelling and Tyrone hung up the phone and tossed it onto the glass coffee table.

“Who was that?” You asked with a smirk.

“Shit, I’on know,” he said.

You shook your head. “You probably got a girl for every day of the week,” you said.

“I’m just missin’ Sunday. You free?” He asked.

“Boy, shut up!” You laughed. You stole his remote and flipped through channels until you landed on a thriller you love. You caught it near the beginning and you told Tyrone what he needed to know to catch him up.

“I can’t believe you don’t watch TV. Like…everyone watches TV,” you said.

He shrugged. “I just don’t watch it like that. I got shit to do,” he said.

“Yo ass just like sitting outside to see what you can get into,” you said.

“I just like watchin’ yo pretty ass,” he said.

You sighed and twisted your lips at him. “You already know that shit don’t work on me, Tyrone,” you said.

He chuckled and pulled you closer. You were already so close to him. You could smell his clean, soapy scent mixed with weed. He kissed your cheek and smirked at you. “I been seeing you round here for weeks. I see the way you look at me,” he said.

“Like you crazy?” You asked.

“Naw, like you trynna see what this dick can do for you.”

You choked on a laugh and slapped at his stomach. It was solid under your hand. Not super thick with corded muscles but he had some meat on him. Strong, capable, tough. “Now who’s got the gutter mind?”

He pinched your shirt and released it. “How many licks does it take?” He asked. His voice was low and rusty. It sent tingles up the back of your thighs. You shifted in your seat and tried to lean off of him but he held you to him. Not giving you an inch.

“Tyrone…” you warned him. You didn’t want to start this shit. But he looked at you like he was trying to eat you for dinner. He licked his lips and looked at your eyes, your cheeks, your lips. His hand roamed over your bare legs, exposed in your cut off shorts. So what if you wore it just for him? It was harmless. Until his fingers played with the distressed hem.

“Let me see what it taste like,” he said.

Your pussy contracted and you felt yourself getting wetter. You were always wet whenever you spoke to him. Some days, after seeing him, you’d go home and take care of yourself. You’d even set the mood. You’d replay the conversation and his flirting while running a bath. Setting up some candles. Laying on your bed and using your vibrator as you came just to the image of him in your mind.

But it paled in comparison to feeling his body next to yours. His fingers on your thigh and his arm around your shoulders. He leaned down and captured your lips in his. His juicy lips were wet and hot and he sucked on your bottom lip. Your kisses were loud and sloppy and you wiggled on the couch trying to find some relief.

“Let me see what it taste like,” he said again.

“Ain’t yo momma at home?” You asked.

He shook his head. “She don’t never come out her room. Her TV too loud, she won’t hear shit,” he said.

You scowled. The last thing you wanted was to meet his mom with your ass up in the air getting pounded by her baby boy. He saw the look on your face and smirked.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you to his room. It fit him. There were posters on the wall and his clothes strewn about. He picked up some of it off of his bed and closed his bedroom door.

Then he was back to kissing you and running his hands over your ass. He squeezed and kneaded the globes of your ass and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands grabbed his shirt and yanked it off of him, finally giving you an entire view of his body. Fuck, he was so hot. His sexy brown skin was lickable. Your ran your hands greedily on him.

Tyrone slipped your hoodie off your shoulders and then unbuttoned your shorts. He pushed it and your panties down your legs. Then he got rid of your shirt and bra until you were standing buck ass naked in his room.

You reached for his sweats and he batted your hand away. “Get on the bed,” he said.

“Who the hell you talkin’ to like that?” You asked.

Instead of answering, he grabbed you and pushed you onto the bed. You bounced as you sat down. You opened your mouth to say something but he grabbed your legs and pushed them as far as he could.

He studied your wet pussy and the way you contracted as he looked. He smirked and looked at you. “Needy little fuckin’ pussy, ain’t she?”

You gasped and huffed out a laugh. He got to his knees and ran his tongue down the crease of your fold. He moaned. “Goddamn, you taste fuckin’ good. But how many licks does it take?”

He was quoting your shirt again. Your hands were braced behind you to keep you upright. Your chest bobbed up and down as you started to hyperventilate. You had imagined him between your legs for weeks. Too cowardly to say anything to him. You hid behind the “I don’t fuck with bangers” line. You were sure that little bit of armor was all you needed to resist Tyrone. If that were true, you wouldn’t be moaning at the sight of him kneeling before you.

His nose nudged your pussy lips and he inhaled. “Fuck,” he whispered before kissing you there. His tongue darted out and he began to lick you, kiss you, suck on you until you were a whimpering mess.

Your legs were shaking as he tongue fucked you. “Oh fuck, oh shit, Tyrone. Fuuuuck,” you moaned. You leaned on one hand while you dug your nails into his hair.

“Stop fuckin’ playin’ with me,” he said. He stared at you, almost angrily, as he went back to eating you out.

Your stomach was on fire as pressure built low and steady. He flicked the little nub until you were sobbing and cumming on his tongue. He leaned up with that signature cocky grin. Your juices were all over his mouth and chin. He wiped it away with his hand.

“Got a nigga sprung over here,” he said. “I wanna see what else this pussy can do,” he said. He drew down his sweats and his cock sprang free.

It was long and thick and your eyes widened. “Where the hell you gonna put that?” You asked. There was no fuckin’ way that was fitting inside of you. It was truly a one-eyed monster. Thick and veiny. The head was already leaking a little bit.

He grinned as he stroked himself. “Sit yo pretty ass back,” he said. He didn’t wait for you to comply. He pushed on your stomach until your back hit the bed. He grabbed your fleshy thighs and yanked until you were half hanging off of the bed.

He wrapped your legs around his waist as he dipped his cock inside of you. There was already a slight burning and you moaned. “Fuck, Tyrone. You’re too big,” you whined.

“Suck it up, ‘cause this finna be my favorite spot,” he said. “Shit, this all mine now.”

You laughed but it turned into a gasp as he started to work himself inside you. He pleasantly stretched you out as he gave shallow strokes to wet his dick with your arousal and make him sliding in easier.

Then, he added his thumb to rub circles on your clit. You clenched around his dick and he moaned. “Just like that,” he said. He continued to rub circles, making you relax and take all of him. He still hadn’t bottomed out, but he was starting to increase his strokes.

“I knew this fuckin’ pussy was gonna be good. I ain’t know it would be this good,” he said. His voice was low as if he weren’t really talking to you. Your nails grazed his stomach as you tried to push him away. You didn’t want him to stop, it just felt so fucking good to finally have him inside of you.

He grabbed your hand and slammed it onto his bed. He leaned over to do it, so he was driving in a little deeper.

“Shit, I think I can go deeper. What you think?” He asked.

“There’s…no…way…” you said in between gasping and moaning.

He licked his lips and winked at you before increasing the intensity of his strokes while slowing down the tempo. He shoved in once and then twice and he seemed to unlock some hidden level inside of you because he did go in a bit deeper.

“If you keep on, I’m gonna…fuckin’...shit…” You were close to cumming and his finger on your clit was making you dumb. Boneless and shivering. You couldn’t think, let alone say anything.

The unexpected slap to your titties half woke you up. You couldn’t focus on him. He was fucking all common sense out of you. He pulled on one nipple before leaning down and suckling it into his mouth.

It was like a straight shot of desire straight to your pussy. You clenched around him and he moaned around your nipple. He tugged on it with his teeth, running it back and forth.

You came with his name on your lips. You didn’t care who heard you. There was noway to hide what ya’ll were doing in here. The whole block could hear you and you didn’t care one bit. The orgasm tore through you, ripped through you; it sent you into another fucking dimension where you lost all sense of self. There was just his dick still slamming inside of you.

Your vision winked in and out and your eyes rolled back. Is this what dying felt like? Complete bliss and peace unlike you had ever known? Tears slipped from your eyes and disappeard into your kinked hair.

Tyrone grunted as he pounded a few more times before spilling his cum inside of you with a string of curses. He pumped you full until you were near bursting with his cum.

“I’ma put a baby this pussy and keep you forever,” he said. He collapsed on top of you and you giggled while he kissed his way up your chest. He kissed the top of both your titties before kissing your neck, your ear, your jaw, and finally your lips.

You were still joined and he rocked a little bit. You groaned. You were riding a fine line between pleasure and pain.

“Naw, I’m gonna keep you,” he said. He grinned and kissed you. You were too fucked out to speak. To think. To register what just fucking happened. But you wouldn’t mind being kept by him.

You’d keep him too.

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