#Tre x Black!reader
Text
Mr. Black, Part 1
Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, degradation kink, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.
Summary: Tre is sick and tired of the countless mistakes you make while performing your work duties. You were recently hired and just trying to do your best, but nothing is ever good enough for him.
Word Count: 4,099k
A/N: Listen, Idk what happened. He's barely in 2 mins of the film and it broke my brain. That outfit and that smile was too much for me to handle! Idk how many parts this will be. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed
Tagging the usual lovelies, please tell me if you want to be removed: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj
Shit! He was going to kill you. You whined as the numbers swam in your vision. You desperately looked between two invoices, wondering how you were going to solve this before he found out.
Your leg bounced as your nerves unraveled the longer you stared at the documents. Shit! You were done for. Your stupid little job was over before you had even gotten started. Your bottom lip quivered. There was no way you were going to recover from this.
Tre’s heavy footsteps pounded the carpet on approach and your heart dropped into your stomach. Shit!
You pushed the papers on your desk into one huge pile that you’ll painstakingly unravel in the safety of your home. You tapped a few keys on the computer, trying to look busy. He did not need to know that you had been staring at your egregious mistake for the past half hour.
“Do you have that report I told you to do?” Tre asked, once he reached his office.
“Yes, Sir,” you said. You gave him a dumb ass, goofy smile. You handed over the report in a yellow folder. He snatched it from you, not sparing you a glance, and stalked into the office. The door slam made you flinch.
You weren’t even sure why you stuck around this job. You were recently hired to help with the background work stuff while people all around you were getting fired. Tre had been leading that charge.
Ever since you got hired, you wondered if he hated you. He barely said anything to you except to insult your hard work. Look, the workforce was hard, okay? There’s a lot of shit that school or life doesn’t teach you. More often than not, you had to hide your scrolling on Youtube for any kind of help.
Even when he was in a good mood, flashing those pearly whites and that sinful smile, it immediately froze whenever you entered the room. Your good mood would evaporate and then you were falling all over yourself trying to correct whatever the issue was.
His coffee was too cold, too black, too sweet. His blinds were up too high and he had a nasty glare. This report was wrong, that report was wrong. No, this wasn’t the one he wanted. Yes, this was the one he wanted. Run out and get some lunch. Well, you took too long, I don’t want it anymore.
It was exhausting working for the man, but some part of you wanted a crumb of his praise. Just a crumb. You could survive off of it. You knew you sounded pathetic. Your friends and family were getting sick of you complaining about the man.
Your best friend sort of got it. You snuck a picture of Tre one day and showed her. She nearly fell off of your couch when she saw him.
“This? This is your boss?”
Yes, he is seriously your boss. And he was a fucking asshole. Who else would feel absolutely nothing about firing people a few days before Christmas? Christmas! It was your favorite holiday and just thinking about all the tiny traditions made you so giddy, your heart flipped.
Person after person, box after box, floated by your desk looking absolutely miserable. You watched their tortured faces and your heart hurt thinking that all their years of service fit into one tiny box. The tinsel and ornaments decorating the office seemed like cruel mocking reminders that there would be no Christmas cheer for them.
“Get in here, now!” You jerked out of your seat. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The intercom flashed red and then turned off. You hated that damn box. Whatever happened to sending a chat? Way less intrusive and easier on your nerves.
You stood up with your heart racing. The pulse in your neck thumped so painfully, you placed your hand there to try and steady it. Realistically, you didn’t have to tell him about the mistake right now. You just needed a chance to find out what you did wrong.
You smoothed your checkered skirt suit, wiping your sweaty palms on the thick material. El Segundo didn’t get that cold, but the mornings were brutal.
You bit your lip as you approached his office door. You opened it. Tre stood over his desk, one hand on his hip and a paper in his hand. It had to be the report he asked for. You assumed that since it was so late in the evening, that he’d read it first thing in the morning. You had hoped to leave here with a little hope. Not defeated like the past few nights, still not living up to his impossible standards.
All things considered, he was damn delicious. His favorite aesthetic was black. Black shirts, jackets, pants, shoes. The only hint of color on him were his gold chains and glasses. His thick beard complimented his facial structure beautifully. It was an odd mix being both attracted to and afraid of your boss.
“Close the door,” he said.
You followed his command. Shit. You were really in it. Was it your report he was reading? Or did he magically glean that you royally fucked up a fifteen million dollar contract?
Your stomach roiled. You were going to be fucking sick.
You approached the front of his desk like a deer in headlights. There was no room for you to maneuver. It was you, the headlights, and inevitable death. Shit, would you go to jail over something like this?
You twisted your fingers as you stood there and waited for him to acknowledge you. He gave a long sigh and then put the paper down.
“Come here,” he said. His tone was so disrespectful and biting. It was insulting coming from such a pretty man with a soft, ungodly voice.
You rounded his giant desk and stood beside him. He was so huge. Thick muscles bunching the confines of his black suit jacket. You gulped and glanced down. He was looking at your report.
“What does this say?” He asked and pointed to a sentence.
“Due to the natre, er, nature, of the findngs.” Shit. This thing had so many damn typos in it. You typed the damn thing up, distracted, watching all of the people you never got to know walk out of here. Their faces haunted you day in and day out. You shouldn’t care, but well, here you were.
If he had done this at any other time, maybe it wouldn’t have affected you so much. If he fired people around, say…St. Patrick’s Day, then at least people would have an excuse to hide their inevitable drinking.
You looked into Tre’s eyes, an apology ready on your lips, but he was fuming. He was usually so calm and collected, firing people with an ice cold exterior. To see so much passion in him now…you were in deep shit. Without a paddle.
He reached across his desk and plucked out a red pen. “I want you to sit here and highlight all of the mistakes you made. And you better find them all,” he said.
Your shaking hand reached out for the pen. He held it away. “All of them.”
He held out the pen once more and you took it. Tre sat down in his chair and motioned for you to proceed. You spied the chair on the other side of the desk, but you didn’t get the sense that you were allowed to get comfortable while you did this.
You licked your dry lips and leaned over slightly. Page by page, you hunted your mistakes with the red pen. You circled all of the typos you made. Good god, there were so many of them.
Tre sat like a silent specter. His disapproving eyes burned your back as you searched the document. At the end, you were appalled that you let so many slip through. The fuck was wrong with you?
“Count them,” he said.
Shit, shit. You couldn’t handle this fucking stress. “I am so sorry–”
“Count. Them.” You glanced at him. Besides the fire in his eyes, he seemed calm and a little disinterested. Like he was already bored of this shit and wanted you to hurry up.
You took a deep breath. He was only a man. You needed this stupid fucking job, but you will not be treated like this for much longer. Fuck his praise. And fuck him. No man, no job was worth this bullshit. You were going to find a nice quiet job somewhere.
You counted the circles. Like bubbles of misery. “Twenty-four,” you said. At least your voice was strong, giving no hint to your frazzled nerves. Though, the more you thought about it, the less nervous you felt. You were so going to type up your two weeks notice tonight. Fuck this cheerless company.
“Do you have any clue what it’s like trying to do my job but all I can focus on is your shitty ass mistakes? A toddler can type better than you,” he said.
You gasped. Such a fucking asshole. “Everyone makes mistakes,” you pointed out. For fuck’s sake, you weren’t decoding international secrets. The occasional, okay this instance many, typos should not warrant a trip to the principal’s office.
“I spend more time correcting your mistakes than trying to turn this company around. The least you can do is be a competent assistant. Your job is to assist,” he said.
“All you can see is my mistakes instead of all the other shit that I do!” You fired back. Shit. His eyes narrowed and you swallowed, but you weren’t going to hold back. Whether you quit or got fired, you were saying goodbye to him so what the hell did anything matter?
“I bend over backwards to do everything for you! Do you know how many times I’ve had to fix my nails as I run around here doing everything that pops into that meaty ass head of yours? Fix your computer, get you coffee, charge your fucking phone. I was hired to do assistant work, not become your personal maid. The least you can do is treat me with some fucking respect!”
A weight lifted from your chest. You took deep, heaving breaths and felt lighter than you ever had. Even before taking this soul sucking job.
“Bend over,” he said quietly.
“What?” You asked.
Tre stood to his full height. Not quite reaching six feet, but close enough. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and then slipped it off, revealing a black, long sleeved shirt. He rolled up the cuffs.
“I’m spank that tight ass you keep taunting me with for every mistake you have on that report,” he said.
Whoa, what? “Did you not hear what I said?” You asked. You watched as inches of his forearm were revealed. Shit, this shouldn’t be so hot. But it was. Your mouth ran dry for entirely different reasons.
“Every word. Bend. Over. It’s a simple instruction to follow,” he said. The sleeves were at his elbow now.
You barely thought about it. You bent over the desk, breasts pressing into the coolness of his desk. You felt him slide behind you. His thick hands rubbed over the fabric of your dress. He squeezed the fleshiness of your ass and you softly huffed.
“Count out every mistake,” he said.
Smack! Red hot fire bloomed on your right ass cheek. “What the fuck,” you gasped.
“Count it, or we start over,” he said.
“One,” you immediately said. Was this really happening?
Smack! Shit, it really was. “Two,” you gasped again, trying to fight off a moan. Your pussy ached with each subsequent hit. And he was not going easy on you. Each smack was severe, making you reach up on tiptoes to escape it.
He wouldn’t let you. His hand found your ass in any way you had it displayed for him. No two smacks were similar. Some were harder than others. He never hit the same spot twice. Your ass was a mosaic of pain. Heat bloomed in tiny flickers. There was no way you were going to sit down after this.
“Fifteen,” you ground out. Your ass sought his hands, relished each smack he delivered. Your mind turned blissfully fuzzy. Nerves melting away until it was a tiny puddle at your feet. Fuck. You were so turned on and your panties were ruined. Soaked.
Your clit throbbed in time with the flickering heat on your ass. And he continued to smack it. Your ass jiggled after each one. Your feet scrambled for purchase.
“Twenty-two,” you cried out. Tears gathered in your eyes.
The final two smacks to your ass were the worst ones. He had been hiding that strength this entire time. He smacked you like he was truly punishing you for all of the mistakes on the report. You shuddered to think what he would do when he found out about the contract.
He had maintained a professional demeanor throughout it all. He hadn’t spoken, except with soft grunts as the force of his smacks met your ass. He rubbed your booty and you moaned from the white hot pain. How the hell were you going to get home after this?
Tre lowered the zipper on the back of your dress and you whimpered. What more could he fucking do right now?
The answer to that was swift as he pushed the edge of your skirt up and over your wide hips. He groaned with a soft, “fuck”, as he revealed your racy black panties. The lace was sheer with tiny flower designs woven into it.
“I knew hiring you was a fucking mistake. Can’t even focus on shit around here,” he said. Though it seemed like he was talking to himself.
“I thought you hated me,” you whispered. You wiped the wayward tears from your face.
“You and these fucking outfits,” he answered back. He rolled your panties off of your damp pussy. He bent with it, so his breath trailed the back of your thighs and legs. He kissed his way back up. Plump lips placed soft kisses to your thighs and ass. Pain bloomed from his recent spanking and you moaned and moved away. He straightened and pulled your hips back.
He smacked your bare ass this time. The wet sound was loud and lewd. You prayed that everyone was gone for the day. There was no way that these flimsy ass walls had good sound proofing.
“Fuuuuuck,” you moaned out.
“That’s for being such a fuckin’ tease,” he said. His hands left you, going to his own fly as you heard the zipper and the frantic huffs as he hurried to free himself.
“I wasn’t–”
“You know you were. Bending over every chance you got. Smiling every time I fuckin’ saw you. Wearing these outfits you know are not professional,” he said.
He settled back behind you, groaning as you assumed he pumped himself. Fuck, you wanted to see. You looked back at him. Oh, that was a mistake. His head was thrown back, his arms moving jerkily as he pumped his thick length with his hand.
Your pussy clenched as you watched him. You bit your lip at the sheer ecstasy on his face. You didn’t want to speak and interrupt him. While it was true that you dressed up a little more than your coworkers, these outfits were appropriate. You didn’t show unnecessary cleavage and your skirts were decent lengths.
Okay, maybe they went a little too high. But you spent most of your time behind a desk, who was really going to notice? It was better than the bland ass, off the rack looks these other girls wore. It was like they all shopped at the same, ugly ass store. Why should you be bland like them?
You were fucking gorgeous. And wearing pretty outfits made you feel beautiful and comfortable. You loved your heels. Why should you keep all that shit in the closet to make basic bitches feel nice? Fuck ‘em.
Tre rubbed the tip of his dick through your wet folds. You nearly buckled. Your knees collapsed and Tre roughly grabbed your hip to make you stand upright.
You rested your cheek against the cold desk. The coolness helped cool off some of the heat burning through you. You moaned as his tip brushed against your clit. “Please,” you whispered.
“Please what?” He asked.
“Please, fuck me. I need it,” you moaned. God, it had been too fucking long since you got fucked. Not had sex. Got fucked. You had decent situationships in the past. Sure, you had fun. But to get fucked, you needed a certain type of man.
He grunted as he shoved inside, stretching you completely. You cried out as he pulled back and shoved back in, getting his dick wetter from your juices alone. “Sweet fuck,” he moaned.
“So fuckin’ wet for me.” He worked himself inside you, pushing into the warm, wet core of you. You were a vice grip on his dick. Welcoming him deeper and more easily with every glide. His fingers dug into your hips.
“From now on, I’m checking over all of your work. If I catch more typos, that’s your ass,” he said.
How the hell could he expect you to listen when he was buried so deep inside of you, you were pretty sure with one more shove that he would hit your G-spot? You pathetically whimpered as his movements grew slippier. He slid in and out with more ease than before.
His thrusts turned sharper. Each one shoved you against the desk. The hard plane of the desk shoved into your stomach. The pain was barely a thought.
“Oh yes, yes,” you moaned.
“Takin’ this dick well,” he moaned. His thrusts increased. Barely giving you time to breathe in between each one. They were powerful and unrelenting. The desk rattled. His thighs pushed into yours, trapping you against the desk as he pounded into you. His hands around your hips were bruising. He had you slightly lifted, so your feet slightly dangled off of the ground. He supported you easily.
The minimal praise from him made your heart soar and your pussy flutter. “Oh, you like that shit, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” you moaned.
“Tell me you like it then,” he said.
“I like it,” you said.
“Like you mean it,” he said and gave another savage thrust that made you see stars.
The desk made an intrusive knocking sound in time with his thrusting. That’s how hard he was fucking you.
“Oh shit, I’m cumming,” you moaned. Your belly flipped as your orgasm built and built.
“Let it go, then,” he said.
You cried and whimpered as you came.
“Mhm, let it go. Let it go. Mhm, feeling all of that,” he cooed while you came, stars going off like bombs in your weak vision. Your head swam. Your vision winked in and out. You were bliss personified, cumming with a type of euphoria you didn’t know existed.
You squeezed his dick as you came. “Get that shit nice and creamy,” he said.
He continued to pound into you, fucking any last remnants of your orgasm out of you. He was so hard and thick, sliding in and out and wrenching every little sound he could out of you.
Wet smacking and the rattle of his thrusts filled the room with a harmony you wanted on repeat forever. You were creamy for him. Needy for him. Needy for the way that he could fuck you stupid and you thanked him for it.
You managed to look back at him. Again, his head was thrown back. The wide expanse of his neck pulsed with a thick vein you wanted to lick. Sweat dripped down into his shirt. His sleeves were still rolled up. He was power and strength. Thick in every sense of the word.
Broad shoulders, soft beard, and those glasses. Good god, you loved those glasses on him. That wide smile of his. His rich, midnight skin. You could spend hours licking every inch of him and it wouldn’t nearly be enough.
He was lost in you, lost with his dick pumping into you. Watching how you were making him feel, another orgasm built. It climbed its way to the surface, whisking you away to the stars again. Shooting through the universe with nothing to hold you down. Nothing to keep you anchored. You just floated like stardust around the cosmos.
“Oh fuck, please,” you moaned. You didn’t know what the fuck you were saying. You were mumbling and moaning, unaware of anything but his hands on your hips. His dick inside you. His balls slapping your clit. Your hand moved behind you seeking his body. His thrusts were too much.
You pushed against him. You didn’t want him to stop. Just for him to ease a bit. Your swollen clit was sensitive as hell. You weren’t sure if you had another orgasm in you. It was too soon and his punishing pace was going to literally fuck you stupid in a minute.
“Move that fuckin’ hand before I do,” he spat.
“But…Sir…” He was fucking the air out of you. You couldn’t breathe. “Fuck, please.”
True to his word, he grabbed the hand that you were trying to push him away with. Your left hand was twisted behind your back as he leaned forward, deepening his strokes.
It turned harsher, fucking you into the desk. He’d fuck you through it if he could. His moans turned desperate.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “Take this nut.”
He groaned as he unleashed his climax inside of you. He filled you with his cum. His dick twitched and pulsed against your spongy walls as his cum was fucked into you. Still he moved, still he pounded into you like he was trying to prove something.
His hips faltered as he sputtered the last of his cum. He buried himself to the hilt and a shiver ran through him. Your frantic breathing matched his as he slowly pulled out of you.
Fuck! You were fucking sore! A hundred baths wouldn’t soothe this shit. A moment later, his cum slipped out of you and you moaned. Well shit. No condom. Luckily, you were on the pill but still. You shouldn’t be so fucking horny that you didn’t talk about these things.
However, after getting fucked the way you just did, you’d happily accept his cum.
Many times over.
His cum leaked out of you, sliding down your pussy and legs. He groaned, leaned down, and spread your ass cheeks just to watch.
“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He pushed two fingers inside and you whimpered. He grunted one last time and removed his fingers.
He grabbed a few tissues off of his desk and started to clean you up. You hissed when he hit a sensitive spot. He kissed your ass and legs as he cleaned up. “So fuckin’ pretty. So fuckin’ beautiful,” he soothed as he cleaned.
You were a shaking mess. Your legs could not support you. He chuckled as he finished. He pulled his pants up first. You heard the slide of his belt buckle. Then, he pulled your panties up to cover your ass. Next, he lowered your skirt and fixed the zipper.
You were too weak to move from your spot. Too weak to stand up and say or do anything. You laid there in amazement. He helped you up and then steadied you while he lowered you into his chair. His chair.
He got to work, righting various knick knacks on his desk. He moved a tiny Christmas snow globe on his desk that you had brought him on the first day. He had raised his eyebrow at you, told you that you couldn’t bribe your way to a good start, and disappeared into his office. You thought he had thrown it away. You were too nervous to notice anything when you came into his office. Just his disapproving eyes and smug smirk.
He moved the report back into the yellow envelope and closed it. He turned around and rested his ass against the desk. He tapped the file with his long fingers. “Be sure to correct this. We’ll go over it first thing in the morning.”
You glanced at him. “Yes, Sir,” you said with a hoarse voice. Fuck, your throat hurt. Everything hurt. He smirked as if he were reading your thoughts.
Yeah, a merry Christmas to you too, mu’fucker.
Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed
#Megaminds Secret Files#The Secret Tre Files#Trevante Rhodes fanfic#Trevante Rhodes fan fic#Trevante Rhodes fanfiction#Trevante Rhodes fan fiction#Candy Cane Lane fanfic#Candy Cane Lane fan fic#Candy Cane Lane fanfiction#Candy Cane Lane fan fiction#Tre x Black!reader#Tre x Black reader#Tre x Fem!reader#Tre x Fem reader#Tre x plus size reader#x Black reader#Tre x Assistant!reader#Tre x assistant reader#Tre x you#Tre x reader#x reader#my writing#Black writers
484 notes
·
View notes
Text
Princess.
Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!reader
WARNINGS: SUB!reader, DOM!trevante, thigh riding, size kink, breeding kink, rough s*x, reader and Tre are married but it isn’t implied, daddy kink, no protection(wrap it before ya smack it), just really nasty chile…
SUMMARY: how Trevante acts with his pretty princess <3 (I was in heat writing this, sorry in advance)
Ps. Inspo from @notapradagurl7 recent fic <3
✮✮✮✮
He’s so exhausted when he comes home from his big boy job but seeing her gives him so much energy. He just wants to pull her into his lap and hold her, letting her ramble about her day and tell him all about the new things she learned and all the things she bought when she went out shopping.
“Tell daddy what you got” He’d say as she bounced excitedly on his thighs, innocent and unknowingly waking up a demon that was kept under wraps since early that morning. He just didn’t wanna wake his baby so early. She’d go on and on about all the cute clothes she found and the purses she bought online, the good food she ate and the nap she took before he arrived. He’d listen and pretend his dick wasn’t growing hard under her ass.
How he’d run baths for her when he was home, adding her favorite scent and bubbles to the water as she’d put her hair in a ponytail to avoid wetting it. She’d ask nicely to be carried to the tub because her legs were just too sore after being fucked until she blacked out and forgot her name. Her knees also aching from being on them for so long, taking his dick deep down her throat until she choked and a strong gag forced him to pull out before he was painting her face with his cum. She already felt so full of him even with his essence leaking out of her and dripping down her thigh, there was no way she would make it to the bathroom.
When she’d do something that was on the “no-no” list and he’d make her pick her own punishments. He’d ask if she deserved an easy one and she’d nod with teary eyes, already having a stinging bottom from the spankings he gave her earlier for touching herself while he was at work. He’d shake his head with a ‘tsk’ and simply throw her over his shoulder, carrying her to their playroom.
And that time she had made him play with her, forcing a game of hide and seek before he’d give up in frustration from not finding her for over ten minutes. She’d giggle and reveal she was hiding in the coat closet the whole time and as obvious as it was, he still hadn’t found her.
He wasn’t always a nice daddy. He had his limits when she just wouldn’t listen. Those were the times where he either made her cum back to back with no break until their sheets were soaking wet or he’d refuse to let her cum at all, watching her cry and beg as he’d take the vibrator away from her swollen and overstimulated clit any time she made that face.
He loved when she was desperate for him. She was just too cute. There were times where he’d go on business trips for days and come back to her needy than ever. She’d do anything for him just to have a simple touch.
When he suspected her to have touched herself in that time of need and he’d refuse to give her what she wanted, but he’d let her ride his thigh like the needy crybaby she was. Her panties were so damn wet that when she rose up off of him she left a wet spot on his slacks, proof of how much she had came just from that little bit of release.
“You miss daddy? I know you did, princess” He smiles, those pearly whites shining at her. She melts from the sight.
He loved her reaction when he’d fill her up unexpectedly. He slams into her with that last rough stroke and she’d let a small gasp fall from those plump lips that were once glossed before Trevante had basically kissed it all off. She could feel the liquid threatening to drip from her entrance and she could only hope that was what would get her pregnant with his baby.
She couldn’t help but think of carrying his seed and getting turned on. Sometimes she’d purposely make him cum inside of her so he’d go to work with empty balls and she’d get to run errands filled to the brim with him. Sometimes she’d even stop by a few maternity stores while she was at it too, just out of curiosity(not) before scurrying off to do something else.
He was so sweet. He’d buy her gifts she had been wanting for a long time, no matter how useless or weird it was to him or anybody else, he knew she wanted it and anything princess wanted, princess got. She even had her own room, decorated how she liked with her favorite colors and favorite things.
He was only ever rough with her when she wanted him to be, which was most of the time, but there were times where she wanted to be soft too, and he supplied that also. Some small gestures like fixing the bow in her hair or helping her reach something on the top shelf….or slowly fucking into her as he cradled her head in his large hands, looking into her soft eyes while she pouted, her tummy feeling butterflies every time he’d hit her special spot. He was so tired and fucked out, but he couldn’t stop until he and his princess was drained completely.
The way he ate her out alone was soft. He licked and slurped on her pretty little pearl, complementing her on how good she tasted and how daddy could eat her for hours. She would try not to close her legs and push him away.
✮✮✮✮
🏷️ @thatone-girly @notapradagurl7 @swavydadon @miyahmaraj @planetblaque @msinterludee @milkiboo @bloodripleygal @stevelacyballs @naj-ay444 @blackelysian @shaolyninferno
#black fanfic writer#black fanfiction#black!reader#black reader#black!fem!reader#masterlist#black!oc#black actors#trevante rhodes fan fiction#trevante rhodes smut#trevante rhodes imagines#trevante rhodes fic#trevante x reader#trevante rhodes x reader#trevante rhodes#actor smut#smut masterlist#black smut#smut blog#smutty#henneseyhoe
639 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi I was wondering if you could possibly make a cute regulus oneshot where regulus is just admiring the reader and compliments them in french knowing the reader doesn't understand. I love your posts so much. Hope you have a good day! 🌷🌟
-Regulus Black x reader
{Regulus loves to whisper French endearments to you}
Thank you lovely! 💕 also if there are any mistakes with the French please let me know and I’ll fix it right away, enjoy lovelies! 💕
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Another sigh falls from your lips as you stretch your arms before laying down against the soft picnic blanket, the feeling of the material against your skin only elicits another sigh which in turn makes Regulus let out a breathy chuckle, looking down at you with soft eyes.
“Are you okay?” He asks pushing your hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear, he smiles, an expression overflowing with love. You look up at him, your hand shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun as it casts down against you both, and you notice the way its orangey light dusts against his skin making him glow, just like an angel.
“Yeah, m’just getting a little tired” you whisper, and you watch as he lays down on his front, chin propped up on his elbows. He looks down at you and there’s something in his expression that melts you completely.
He leans down to press a kiss or two against your jaw and then another to the corner of your mouth, smiling into the small peck. Regulus never fails to make you go all giddy, the small touches and his love-filled eyes, that have you hiding your face behind your hands.
You can hear him 'tut' slightly as his fingers wrap around your wrist, the warmth of his hand against yours as he guides them away from your face.
“There we go,” he says with a smile, the sight has your chest blooming with warmth. He leans into you once again before whispering, “Tu es tres jolie” his lips peppering kisses against your face, and you swear your heart is skipping beats.
The words leave his mouth so beautifully and even if you haven’t the slightest idea of what they mean they still seem so heavenly. In all honesty, he could be insulting you, the thought makes you chuckle.
You watch as he frowns slightly, tilting his head with slight confusion. “You could be insulting me, I would never know,” you tell him, Regulus shakes his head, his curls that frame his face bouncing as he does so.
“I would never” he gasps with fake offence, a hand over his heart, “Je t'aime tellement” he whispers, his hand resting on your hips as he lets his head fall against your shoulder.
“I still don’t understand” Your fingers thread through his wind-tussled hair and you can feel him chuckle against you.
“Do you want me to tell you?” He asks, sitting up slightly as he kisses your cheek, you nod with a small ‘Mhm’
He smiles, excitement flashing through his eyes as he pulls you up, both sitting crossed-legged on top of the soft blanket he whispers a quiet ‘Okay’ before he speaks again, “Tu es tres jolie” he says slowly, breaking down the words for you.
And for what you lack in knowledge of the language you make up for with passion, and he stifles his laughter behind his hand, “Hey! Don’t laugh, I’m trying” you tell him with a slight twinge of embarrassment.
“I’m not laughing at you,” he says taking your hands in his, fingers entwined as he rests them on his lap, “Now listen carefully” he tells you as he repeats the words even more slowly.
“Tu es tres jolie” You give him a weary smile and he nods.
“Perfect” he praises you, his thumb smoothing over the bumps of your knuckles, “It means, you are very pretty” he leans forward pressing his lips against yours, your noses bumping slightly with the action, and his gentle words leave you feeling all floaty.
He doesn’t have time to pull away before your arms wrap around his shoulders pulling him back into you as you kiss him, although it doesn’t last too long as you both end up smiling, which makes you both break out in a fit of giggles.
“Teach me more?” You ask, forehead resting against his.
“Of course beautiful,” he says, and he spends a good hour teaching you, enjoying how interested you seem to be. The sun will eventually set, and both you and Regulus pack away your small picnic into a basket before walking back to your quaint little village house, arms linked.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
#regulus black imagine#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#regulus black scenario#regulus black oneshot#regulus black fic#regulus black fluff#regulus black headcanons#regulus black fanfiction#regulus black one shot#regulus black blurb#the marauders era#the marauders fanfiction#regulus x reader#regulus fluff#regulus fanfiction#regulus fic#regulus imagine#regulus x you#regulus x y/n#the marauders imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Late Night Trip ~ Miguel O'Hara x GN! Reader
A/N: A drawing from @scwibbs inspired me to write about going to the store late at night with Miguel. All because he wanted some more ice cream. I hope you all enjoy it!
“Amor? Do we have any more ice cream?”
You paused the movie, the frame stopping right before the part where a woman gets stabbed to death. You removed yourself from the couch and walked into the kitchen, where Miguel dug in the freezer. Only in his boxers.
“Yeah, I saw some yesterday.”
He huffed as he continued to search, “Well, I don't see it.” You pushed him aside, knowing he had tunnel vision when it came to looking for something in the house. Lucky for him, you remembered the exact place you saw it last night: sandwiched between frozen broccoli and the ice maker. But the pint of strawberry cheesecake wasn't there.
“Hold on, it was right there. What happened to it?”
Miguel didn’t look at you, “If you're talking about the strawberry cheesecake, I ate that one yesterday.”
“What?” Your head flickered, annoyed, “How did you eat that one already? We just bought that one.”
He rubbed the nape of his neck, “Late night hours at HQ.” Your fingers rubbed circles on the sides of your forehead. Miguel was the king of late-night snacking, especially if he was working late.
“Well, no ice cream for us then.” You accepted defeat, going back to your comfortable place on the couch to get ready to finish the horror movie.
Miguel had other plans. “I’ll go out and get some more.”
As he disappeared into your room, you perked your head up, about to protest. It was past midnight when you checked your phone. “It’s late.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Oh I know you will.” You stood, going into your room to grab a jacket, dressed in your t-shirt and pajama pants. “That’s why I’m coming with. I want some more snacks.” As you slipped your multi-colored covered feet into some slides, Miguel was ready to go. He resorted to simple sweatpants and a shirt, wearing matching black slides. Oh and he couldn’t forget his shades.
“You’re not going overboard.”
You raised a brow at him, “This is coming from the person who’s about to go out to get ice cream. At night.”
“Because I want some.” He stated, taking your hand and leaving the house.
There was a convenience store a block away. It was open until 3 a.m., enough time for you two to grab some goodies and go. Cool air brushed along your jacket as you walked beside Miguel. The atmosphere was quiet, crickets singing in your ears and the moon shining down on both of you. Hardly anyone was out at the moment. You didn’t see many cars in the store's parking lot when you went inside.
Miguel’s hand didn’t leave yours as he dragged you to the freezer aisle. Your eyes blinked multiple times to get used to the strong fluorescent lighting. The cashier’s hello drowned in the background from the vibrating hum of the freezers. He had to get his favorites, the strawberry cheesecake, banana bonanza, and tres leche. Your eyes caught triple chocolate fudge and dream boat, so he grabbed those too. Both of you noticed champagne, a flavor neither of you tried yet. Soon, his arms were covered in pints of ice cream.
“We should’ve gotten a basket.”
After a basket was acquired, you made a beeline for the chips. Throwing a bunch of bags of flaming hot ones inside, your favorite.
“You know, I heard they can mess up your stomach lining if you eat them too much.” You glared at your spouse, putting a bag back. Ignoring his smug look, you caught a little shelf of ramen on the other side. It wasn’t much to browse through, but there was no need. You saw that signature black packaging, grabbing the remaining two.
Miguel tsked when he saw the ramen packages you were holding, “I can't eat those. They're too spicy.”
“See, that's the white in you saying that because these aren't that hot.” You quipped back while he rolled his eyes. He took the packaging from your hands and tossed it in the basket. Being the nice partner that you were, you also grabbed the less spicy ones, the packaging sporting a green color.
Moving on to candy, you snagged a few bags of gummy bears. Stashing some chocolate bars too. Miguel picked up some hard candy, liking to suck on a few throughout his day.
“Are we done?” He asked, motioning to how much stuff was in the basket. It was almost overflowing if you put one more thing in it.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”
As you two made your way up to the cashier, who wasn’t paying attention to you and was watching videos on his phone, you stopped at the beverage aisle. You smacked your lips, feigning thirst, before grabbing two bottles of a mystery-flavored cola.
The cashier's eyes went wide at the number of items you had, but he had no issues ringing you two up. You didn’t make eye contact with your husband as the beeping lingered in your ears, but you felt his eyes.
Still, he took your hand, carrying the bags as you traveled home. While walking, you opened one of the sodas and took a swig to taste the mystery flavor. Hints of cotton candy lingered on your tongue with a mix of cherry? Or was that blueberry? You needed to ask an expert.
“Here, taste this.” You placed the bottle to his lips so he could take a sip.
Miguel felt the flavor, tasting like he had a sip of wine. His eyes lowered in mild thought, his lips pursed. “It’s blueberry-flavored cotton candy.”
“I knew it.”
Once you all got back inside, you threw your slippers off, grabbed your bag of hot chips, and jumped on the couch. After putting the snacks away, Miguel sat beside you, holding the tres leche ice cream and two spoons. Both of you got comfortable and resumed the movie, treating the outing as a success.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x reader#slushycoookie writes
378 notes
·
View notes
Text
FEELIN’ IT
KOFI SIRIBOE X blackfem!reader
SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: Drank In My Cup by Kirko Bangz, Drunk in Love by Beyoncé, Refill by Elle Varner
WARNING: 18+, SMUT, Henny D*ck from Kofi lol, praise kink, semi-rough s*x, unprotected pinv (wrap it up kids)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: beware of typos & mistakes lol, and this one is for my petite girlies (*cough* self-insert) / GIF CREDIT: @tishrivers
Low rumbles of movement awoke Y/N from her sleep. Y/N stirred for a moment as the movements continued, shifting slight in her spot. She cracked one eye room, immediately welcomed by the pitch blackness of the room except the silver of neon light from a side table clock.
2:16 AM.
He’s home.
Y/N yawned as she sat up from her bed. Stretching her arms and legs she flipped the blanket off her, getting up from the bed. Y/N softly padded out of the bedroom and downstairs to the source of the noise.
She could see a shadow stretch from the kitchen and into the hallway. Smiling slightly to herself, Y/N tip toed her way to the kitchen. Her smile grew wider as she saw the culprit behind the noise.
He stood with the fridge partially open, the light illuminating his beautiful angular features. His brows were furrowed, as his coca-cola brown, yet borderline blood shot red eyes scanned the shelves of the refrigerator. Y/N chuckled softly at his expression while he had spoon held in his mouth. Y/N’s eyes traveled to the island where a large bowl filled with ice cream sat. Immediately she knew what he was searching for.
“Kofi,” Y/N spoke aloud. Immediately Kofi turned to her, taking the spoon out of his mouth. A slow syrupy smile grew from his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Bottom left drawer.”
It took a second for the information to sink in, for Kofi in his buzzed haze. It did though, Kofi’s eyes lit up, his smile grew even wider, as he turned back to the fridge. He bent down opening the drawer and pulling out a brown bottle of chocolate sauce.
“You the G.O.A.T., baby,” he murmured as he closed the fridge.
Y/N walked to the island, watching Kofi pour a generous amount of chocolate sauce onto his ice cream. He took a huge spoonful and shoved into his mouth. A groan erupted from him, a dangerous one that should’ve not sent tingles through Y/N body, but did anyway. He had that effect on her always.
“It’s good?” Y/N asked. She lifted herself up and sat on the island counter next to Kofi. She caught huge whiff of the Hennessey he must've been sipping on from earlier on.
“I fucks with this Vegan ice cream heavy,” Kofi proclaimed, pointing his spoon at the bowl.
He took another spoonful as his gaze dipped towards Y/N’s bare legs, it fully registering her sleep attire, a huge Destiny’s Child band t-shirt and short shorts. His eyes traveled back upwards to Y/N’s gaze, a bit more heated than previously.
“You taste better tho,”
“Kofi, don’t start,” Y/N chuckled, playfully swatting his arm. He jokingly cowered and continued to devour his dessert. “How was the club? Y’all have fun?”
He nodded slowly, setting the spoon to the side, and scratched at his beard.
“Yeah. Good vibes. Good music too...Tre was in better spirits since the split," Kofi mused, his eyes slightly danced as he absentmindedly scratched at his beard. He turned towards Y/N peering down at her. Large, calloused hands found themselves at the soft flesh of her legs, the pads of his thumbs rubbed on the tops of her thighs. A warmth bloomed underneath Y/N's skin, while butterflies flew around in her stomach, and dampness pooled in her panties. "You should've been there with me."
A soft moan threatened to escape Y/N's lips, she choked it back before she spoke.
"M-Me? Be responsible for interrupting boys' night, I dunno about that, baby."
Kofi tipped his head to the side, a sly grin bloomed across his lips. A flicker of mischief appeared in his eyes. He stopped rubbing at Y/N's thighs and instead gave them gentle squeeze. Y/N whimpered slightly, causing Kofi's grin to grow even more.
"Maybe it was a good thing, I was bricked up thinkin' about you, anyway," Y/N's eyes slowly trail down, seeing the large print behind his black jeans. Kofi palmed himself and groaned. "You gon' help me, pretty girl."
Y/N nodded quickly, immediately bringing Kofi down to her, crashing her lips against his. Initially, a kiss that was heated and messy, turned slow, and passionate. Kofi's tongue swirled around in her mouth, she tastes the sweetness of the vanilla ice cream and chocolate, with the slight bitterness from the Hennessey. He kissed her so softly and sweetly, that it put Y/N a daze. It was all mere distraction, as Kofi slid his right hand down her shorts curling two fingers inside of Y/N.
"Kofi," Y/N whimpered as Kofi's fingers began to slowly pump in and out of her. "Fuck, baby!"
Kofi peppered kisses on the side of her face, nibbling on the outer shell of her ear.
"I feel you tightin' up, let me see ya pretty ass cum, baby," Kofi drawled, his LA-New Orleans accent slipping through, spurred Y/N even more.
The pleasure began to pulse through her as she felt herself clenching around Kofi's thick fingers.
"I'm-I'm gonna cum baby, fuck!" Y/N mewled.
"Let go, baby. I gotchu," Kofi rasps.
Her orgasm pooled out of her, flooding Kofi's fingers. He thrusted his fingers a few more times before he pulled his fingers out of her. Y/N slightly pouted at the lost of Kofi's touch. He chuckled softly before he sucked on his two fingers, swirling his pink tongue around them.
"Turn around for me," Y/N happily obliged, she quickly discarded her shorts and panties, flinging them to the side. She turned and faced the counter. Y/N stood on her tippy toes, excitement rushed through her as she heard the sounds of Kofi undoing his pants. Y/N almost crumbled as Kofi's rubbed the head of his dick between her soft, wet folds.
"Don't play, Kofi. I need you," Y/N whined, attempting to draw him further inside of her.
Kofi's hand came crashing down on Y/N's ass, it echoed throughout the kitchen. She yelped, slapping her own hands against the marble counter.
"Relax, Y/N" Kofi groaned has he continued to rub himself in her folds. "So fuckin' hard-headed, gimme a minute baby,"
"Sorry, "Y/N moaned quietly.
After a few more seconds of teasing, Y/N's prayers were answered as Kofi finally plunged into her warmth, completely bottoming out before he began to drill into her.
“You feel too good baby," He's deep inside now, with his large hands gripping at Y/N's waist, Kofi continues to grind his dick into her, with rough, sloppy strokes. "Fuck you so tight, all this shit for me?"
Y/N could feel herself gushing at just the tone of his voice. A sweetness managed to cut through all of the hoarseness and lust. It always drove her crazy when he did shit like that. The familiar thrumming of her orgasm, hurdled towards the surface, she squeezed and tightened around him. Kofi moaned at Y/N gripping him.
"You close?" Kofi asked, already knowing the answer to his question.
"Yes baby, I'm gonna," Y/N's orgasm shot through her before she could finish. She whined and moaned as Kofi continued to fuck her through it.
"You still with me pretty girl?" Kofi rasped in her ear.
“Mhmmm, Kofi, shit!” Y/N babbled, her mind only zeroed in the pleasure between her legs. It was too much trying to keep with Kofi too.
Kofi grabbed a fistful Y/N’s coils bringing her upwards, not all the way, but far enough that she couldn’t use the counter to support herself.
“I said, you still with me pretty girl, hm?”
Y/N nodded. A sharp slap on her ass caused her to whine, a small punishment for not responding. Whether he liked to admit or not, Kofi was a words kinda guy. He loved to hear how he made you feel, even if it was garble of incoherent nonsense, he needed to know that you were there with him, present for it all. Still, the words choked on her tongue. Another slap, harder than the last, had Y/N squirming underneath Kofi. Another slap was soon to follow, but Y/N responded before he could.
“Yessss, baby I’m with you! Fuck meeee!"
"Fuck, I'm about to nut. You gon' take this shit like a good girl, huh?"
"I will baby, fuck, give it to me please!"
Kofi went into overdrive, fucking Y/N wildly. She felt him swell inside of her. His bulbous hammered at her spot, sending her into throws of pleasure, so much so she felt tears prickle in her eyes.
"You so pretty takin' me, fuck I'm cumin'," Kofi groaned as he spilled inside of Y/N. They both shook and moaned together, as Kofi slowly fucked his cum inside of her. He slowly slipped out of her, his breath on Y/N's sweat-slicked skin. Kofi tapped his finger Y/N's waist, signaling her to face him. She turned around only to be greeted by his glistening, cum-dripped, shaft. It was still hard.
"I wanna see that pretty ass face when I cum inside you," He proclaimed, slipping right back inside Y/N, ready for round 2.
#siribaesfics#kofi siriboe fanfic#kofi siriboe x blackfem!reader#kofi siriboe x black!reader#kofi siriboe smut#black fanfiction
272 notes
·
View notes
Text
✩｡°𝄞🚨D-TOWN BABY 𝄞✨°｡✩
╝ •part one | part two ╔
╰₊𓂂➢ pairing: gang affiliated!yoongi x fem!reader
╰₊𓂂➢ genre: hood au, bother’s best friend au, smut, angst
╰₊𓂂➢ warn!ngs: use of the n-word, aave, [mentions of drugs, drug dealing, death, smoking and drinking], negligence due to use of drugs (reader’s mother), reader is heavily black coded, cat-calling, riding, oral (reader receiving), swallowing semen. (let me know if there’s more please!)
╰₊𓂂➢ summary: yoongi is apart of a gang called d-town, the gang your brother just so happens to be apart of.
╰₊𓂂➢ word count: 5,625 words
╰₊𓂂➢ author’s note: the inspiration came from me shouting “D-TOWN NIGGA!” at my sister while watching the Daechwita music video. lmao, i hope y’all enjoy it.
The headlights of your black honda civic shines on the group of men huddled together on the steps of the project building.
Smoking, drinking, talking and laughing loud as hell, and hitting licks.
You huff while turning your car off. Stepping out, your long, fern green skirt flows with the wind. Cleavage hanging out of your bohemian patterned shirt. As you approach the ran down project building you can hear the men on the stairs whistling at you.
You roll your eyes at the gang members who are shouting and cat-calling loud as hell— the whole block could hear.
“Damn Ma, can I get a 360?!” One of them call out. Before you could even flip him off, two familiar voices chime in.
“Chill, nigga.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
They say at the same time. The two voices could easily be distinguished as Trey (your brother) and Yoongi (your brother’s best friend).
Or their street names: Tre D and Agust D. The ‘D’ standing for D-Town. To which you find corny as hell because you all literally live downtown. All these corny ass niggas’ names end with D.
Once you’re right in front of the group of men your brother nods his head at you. That’s just him acknowledging your existence. The two of you have a complicated relationship. It’s only complicated because you don’t like his lifestyle (respectfully) but he won’t stop gang banging.
Nonetheless, you’d still take a bullet for that man. Vice versa.
“Yo, _______.” Yoongi speaks. From the looks of it, you can already tell he’s about to say some stupid shit. He has that sorry ass smirk on his face and keeps glancing around at his little posse. Leaning your weight on to one leg, you simply arch your brow at him.
“You gon’ let me tuck you in?” Your stoic expression remains the same. A few giggles are heard and your brother shakes his head. Trey is more than used to Yoongi making advances at you— he’s been fiend out for damn there 8 years.
Yoongi looks you up and down, adjusting his duffel bag on his shoulder. You smack your teeth and harshly brush past the men blocking your way up the stairs. Prior to entering the building you yell back at the long haired, pale man.
“Tuck your dick!”
SLAM! You slam the door shut, you can hear the distant instigating behind the door as you walk up the stairs to the shared apartment. Mumbling curse words on your way up.
Yoongi’s smirk never leaves, despite the instigation his crew nagged on about. He likes that shit. He loves it. Your hot temper and all of it. He knows that if he wanted to he could shut you right up. But you being mad at him kind of turns him on… so he’ll let you have it.
You’d prefer a nice and quiet, empty pathway to your home when you get off from work. You go through enough stress as it is. Another headache is exactly not what you needed.
Stepping foot into the dark apartment, you set your purse down and walk to your room, ready to get in the shower after a long day. The apartment is fairly big compared to the other units. More than enough space for you and your brother. Although, for the past year it’s really just been you occupying the space.
Trey is never home. He’s out and about being Tre D. He stopped coming home about a little over a year ago. It’s just gang related activities after the other, selling drugs, hanging out with D-Town and fucking random girls. Repeat.
It’s reasonable that you gave up on trying to stop him. He’s a grown man now and you can’t sit around all day to inspect your little brother’s everyday life to make sure he’s doing ‘the right thing’. He’s only 2 years younger than you but you always acted as a mother figure. Taking over that role after your mother got sprung out on crack and left you both.
Working your ass off everyday, feeding him and yourself, trying to make sure he’s doing well in school— all a waste of time. Now look. He’s outside of your shared apartment, probably not even going to come up stairs and is making way more money than you.
You regret the day he met those guys. And you regret even more when he dragged Yoongi along with him.
The thought of Yoongi makes you sigh. You pick up your towel to get in the shower, blasting Lauryn Hill as you lather your brown skin with smell-good soap. You manage to decompress in the shower. Tracking wet footprints to your bedroom as you approach the window, you look outside to see if they’re still there.
Yes. Yes they are. Your brother seems to be leaving and you can’t help but notice someone is missing from the gang.
And almost on queue— as if the devil himself set it up… you hear the front door opening. Letting out a groan, you go and peak out of your bedroom door.
“No need to hide, babygirl. Come on out.” Yoongi calls.
You roll your eyes before slamming your door. But like you figured, the door opens right back up and in comes Yoongi. He silently stands in front of the door after he closes it behind him, observing your figure that is semi-hidden behind the white towel you have on. Yoongi already has a little stiffy just by looking at you.
“Stop calling me babygirl you freak, I’m older than you.” You say, responding to the comment he made. He chuckles, walking over to sit on your bed while you apply lotion on your legs. He drops his duffel bag on the ground next to him.
“Yeah, by like a few months.” Looking down at him, you noticed that he’s man spreading, leaning on his arms that are propped up behind him on the bed. Refraining from gulping, you look away.
You don’t respond to him. Instead, you continue on with your nightly routine, pretending that the fine man is not sitting on your bed ready to pounce on you the second you say go. You can hear shuffling behind you as you fix your locs, putting them in the ponytail.
“_______, I got you something.” He says and you reluctantly turn around. This man really doesn’t learn or care to catch a hint. In his hand is a book. A book that you’ve been searching for everywhere and is sold out.
“How…” is all you can mutter out. Out of all of Yoongi’s highly prestigious and unusual gifts he attempts to give you, this has got to be the best one yet. Best, because you actually wanted it. Not that that Birkin Bag was easy to donate— that was a struggle.
“Uh— I saw you were looking for this shit everywhere on your spam.” You furrow your eyebrows.
“Why the hell are you on my spam page?!”
“So I had drove damn there 2 fucking hours to get this shit.” He says, ignoring the previous question.
You love it. You want to snatch the book out of his long slender fingers, throw your bonnet on and start reading immediately. But—
“I can’t take that Yoongi.” The sentence isn’t something that he hasn’t heard before. You tell him every single time he comes up to your apartment trying to hand you something he bought for you. You never take shit from him and if you do, it gets donated almost immediately.
He scoffs. Honestly looking a little pissed off— fed up to be exact. “What do you mean you can’t take it? Didn’t you hear me, _______?” He stands up, book still in hand. “I drove 2 hours for a fucking book!” He exclaims.
It’s not like you’re meaning to be a bitch. You’d just rather not take anything that was bought with drug money. Even the book you’ve been dying to read for months.
“Listen Yoongi—”
“Agust D.” He corrects.
“I’m not calling you that shit!” A smile cracks onto his face. Just a small one. Because, as mentioned before, he loves that shit. But he’s still fed up.
“I can’t take that. It’ll be donated just like the other gifts you attempt to bribe me with.” You say and he sets the book on the bed, stepping closer to you. “I’m not bribing you _______. I just wanna spoil you, just let me do that.”
“No! I don’t want anything you or my brother buy with your fucking D-Town money. You can keep all of that shit!” You roar while waving your arms around. He sighs, running his fingers through his long black hair, letting it fall back in place. “Money is money, _______.”
“I’m not doing this with you, Yoongi.” Arguing with him back and forth is like arguing with a wall. You two could go on and on about the lifestyle he and Trey are choosing to live.
Yoongi walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don’t pull away. Despite how stubborn you are, you’d never deny Yoongi’s touch whenever you feel him. It’s instant stress relief.
“I’m trying, _______.” He calmly says in your ear. The disembodied voice— so husky yet smooth. It sends shivers down your back and all of the hair on your arms stand tall.
“Try harder then.”
“Why are you like this?” You scrunch your face up. “Like what?!” You can feel him shrug his shoulders behind you.
“Like… stubborn and petty.” Offended, you scoff.
“Stubborn and petty like your mama?” It was a quick little insult— a joke! Everyone says it. Plus, you had to think of a come back quick or else you know Yoongi would’ve known that you knew what he said was partially accurate. But when you feel the tight hold Yoongi had around your waist loosen… you knew you fucked up.
“You know my moms’ is dead.” You immediately twist your body around to face him, your towel nearly unraveling. You quickly catch it. “Omg, I did not mean it like that, for real. I was just saying shit!” You ramble on and on about how you don’t think before speaking and how sorry you are.
Then he laughs. Like actually laugh. Not a corny little smirk or the low chuckle he does when he’s around his boys— not even a light smile. He gave you his infamous, gummy smile, shoulder bouncing laugh. He even threw his head back for a second.
You really couldn’t help but smile. You missed that laugh. Having been reunited with it after so long makes you forget everything said and done. Because that’s the Yoongi you know, the Yoongi you grew up with, the Yoongi you loved. You smile at the taller man still looking at you with that cute gummy smile even after the laughter died down.
“Stop apologizing _______, I was just fucking with you.” You scoff but the smile never fades, even when you playfully punch his shoulder. “That’s not funny!” He nods his head in agreement as if he wasn’t just literally laughing his ass off.
“It was just funny seeing you speak like that. First time in mad long you didn’t have that stick that you love so much up your ass.” Looking up at him, you can’t even be mad at what he just said. Not when all the old feelings were suddenly rushing back in. The ones you fought off years ago.
“Yeah,” you switch your focus onto the ground. “It was nice seeing you laugh like that.” His fingers lightly grip your chin to lift your head back up to look him in the eyes. Your heart is doing backflips but in your head there are a million different alarms going off, screaming ‘abort!’.
“You always make me laugh. Whether I’m laughing around you or at home in my bed, laughing about something that you said. You make me…” He trails off making you furrow your eyebrows a bit.
“Make you what?” He sighs, scratching the back of his head, looking out of the window. You shove his shoulder to get his attention again. “Make you what?!” He looks down at his shoes as if the answer was written on them. They weren’t. You checked.
“You make me… hmmph.” He mumbles and you slap your hands on your naked thighs in frustration. You grip his face in your whole hand to get him to stop looking around the room helplessly, like a mother trying to force feed their child.
“What!” You scream.
“Happy!” He reciprocates the volume, eyes going wide when he finally lets the shit flow free. Your hand slowly drops from his face. “Damn— satisfied?” He sassily asks, rolling his eyes. Too in shock to even say anything, you just stand there with your eyebrows high, looking like a dumbass.
“_______,” he starts, earning you attention. So many thoughts sprint through your mind as you stare up into his sharp brown eyes. It’s really hard to believe that after everything, he still found happiness in you. You can’t recall the last time you felt happy in Yoongi’s presence. The man that you once loved. You and Yoongi never dated, never slept together, never really announced any feelings for each other either. The relationship the two of you had was unspoken. You knew the love was there— he did too, and that was enough.
“I need you to know, that I want you.” He says seriously. Your heart drops at the words. No.
No, not now. Why now?
“I want us, _______.” You could melt underneath his gaze. You feel yourself slowly folding. Ready to submit and give into him— give into your heart that’s been begging to be his for 7 years now. “Tell me you want this too.”
Yes, tell him you want this. Want all of him. Because you do… but you can’t. It’s not the same. This is not the same as it was 7 years ago. Yoongi isn’t the same. You can’t do it.
“I can’t— I don’t… want this.” You try to stand strong but you’re weak. Yoongi always did that to you. “You don’t or you can’t— which one is it?” He says, already knowing the answer. He needs to hear it from you though. You sigh, closing your eyes. “Yoongi—”
“No _______ tell me right now why you can’t just let us be happy?” Yoongi’s frustration is valid. But so is yours. You try to walk away from him, to get away, like those alarms that kept going off in your head a few minutes ago told you to do. But Yoongi isn’t having it. He already laid his heart out there, he just wanted you to take it— for it to be yours. So he grabs your arm. “Don’t walk away from me.” You yank your arm back immediately.
“I fucking can’t Yoongi! You want me to stand here, laugh, ‘kee-kee’ in your face. Tell you I want you and that I want this just for you to go back to the streets the next second someone calls you.” You’re out of breath from all of the screaming, no doubt the neighbors were gonna report. But you aren’t done.
“D-Town tells you to jump, you ask how high. I ask you to get your life together, to get off of the streets and I’m left with the same answer. I’m not gonna be one of those bitches that hold you down when you decide to get into some dumb shit and I’m damn sure not gonna be the person people have to get in touch with because their fucking boyfriend died doing some fuck shit.” The undertone of your face is red and your hands are shaking. “It’s bad enough my brother is in to deep. I’m not trying to have to worry about someone else.”
Yoongi’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he takes in everything you said. You’ve never been this vulnerable. With anyone. You’ve never said any of this to anyone but you don’t want to keep having the same interactions over and over with him.
“I understand.” Is all he says. And it’s all he has to say. You know he’s not gonna quit the streets until the streets quit him. After all, that’s how it works. But he really did understand and if that’s how you feel he won’t push it.
“Can I just lay with you?” Before you can even protest he raises his hands to clarify. “Just for tonight. Can you please… just do this for me? Let me lay with you.” You sigh, over analyzing the possibility. In the end you conclude it was fine. So you grab your pajamas and change in the bathroom. When you come back in, Yoongi is already laying in the bed. Shirtless and wearing nothing else but the pair of basketball shorts he had in his bag. The book resting on your nightstand.
Your pajamas includes a sage green tank top and a beige pair of cotton shorts. You lie next to him in your bed after cutting the lights off. His body instantly cuddles into yours.
“Yoongi,” you call out. “Your head is on my boobs.” He chuckles into the pair before raising his head to look at you. “You used to always let me lay on your boobs. They’re comfortable.” He says with a faint pout, poking your plushy boobs with his finger, making you flinch.
“Yoo— will you stop poking me!” You say frustratedly. “It tickles.” Yoongi perks up at that. “It tickles, huh?” He sings, continuing to poke you. His fingers pokes at your chest, your sides, your neck. You try to fight him off but your laughter is making you weak. “Stu— stop!” You cry out and he just giggles at your plea. It’s really over once he hovers his body over yours, locking yours in place underneath him.
Your face hurts from laughing so hard, can’t even manage to fight it anymore. The poking eventually stops but the soft giggles and toothy smile on your face doesn’t falter. Yoongi’s eyes sparkle as they bore into yours. He carefully places his hand on your cheek, thumb caressing your lifted cheekbone.
“You’re so pretty, _______.” He observes your features from above and his heart pounds against his chest. The pace aligned with yours. “Sometimes,” he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I forget just how pretty you are. So I come to bother you— just to see you. But when I have you this close… you make me want to leave everything else behind just so I can be with you.”
That’s all you really wanted. For Yoongi to leave all the bullshit alone. Maybe then you two could work.
But you know that all of this is just pillow talk. Yoongi would never do that. Not for you. Not for anyone. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Yoongi.” You speak mellowly. He lifts his head out of your neck to look at you again. “I can’t tell you how I feel now?” You roll your eyes. “You can but don’t sit here and lead me on to believing in a lie.”
He doesn’t respond. You feel his lips on your cheek. Eyes widening, you look at him in confusion. “What are you—”
“I’m not lying to you, _______.” He kisses your forehead. “Even with everything that happened, no matter what you say to me— I never told you a lie and I don’t plan to.” He leans in to give you another kiss but pauses. His face just an inch away. Your breath hitches at the close proximity, growing nervous when his eyes focus on your lips.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispers softly against your lips. Your mind isn’t working. There’s no alarms blaring, no weird gut feeling, just you. Underneath him. Without much thought, you mutter a breathy “yes.”
He leans in, his lips molding perfectly with yours. It’s soft and passionate and you’re worried that you just might have a heart attack the way your heart is pacing. Your fingers travel their way through his long strands of hair as you happily taste the minty flavor of his mouth— covering up the taste of cigarettes. When he pulls away to catch his breath, you immediately pull him back down. Now that you got a taste of him, you don’t want to let it go.
The kiss starts getting heated when Yoongi rolls off of you and pulls you on top of him. His hands roam the surface of your back, letting them slip under your tank top. You bite on his bottom lip once you pull away, letting your soft brown hands travel up his abdomen to his solid chest. Your back arches as you leave open mouth kisses against his chest. He takes the opportunity to cup your ass into his hands, occasionally squeezing the fleshy rump.
You slightly shift your hips up against him to lift up. “Fuck,” Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “Don’t move like that.” You furrow your brows in confusion but you quickly understand when you feel something poking your thigh. In shock, you shift again. A low groan leaves Yoongi’s mouth and he places his hands on both sides of your waist.
You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, the action and the sound he let slip gave you that tingling feeling in your stomach, that familiar sensation fluttering in between your legs. You do it again. Wanting to hear that sound from him again.
“Seriously, you don’t want this to go further than it already has.” True. You don’t, but you’re a little too lust filled to think straight. And the fact that Yoongi is hard as a rock underneath you has you wet. Grinding your clothed sex onto his bulge.
“Yo, I—”
“Shut up.” You say, placing your hands on his chest to support yourself as you grind against him. The lewd sounds that escape from both of your mouths flood the room. Yoongi’s basketball shorts get bunched up in the process, the repeated action dragging the band down, exposing his boxer briefs underneath.
You lift your hips up to pull the shorts down but Yoongi stops you. He sends you a warning look that reads, ‘don’t do this.’
Regardless, you enthusiastically yank them and his boxer briefs down his thighs, letting his dick stand tall against his lower stomach. “_______, you’re confusing me.” He says while you’re busy scrapping to get the clothing from around his ankles, satisfied when they hit the floor. You turn around, looking down at him once again.
“You’re confused? Hm, I thought you were hard.” Speaking sarcastically, you turn your focus onto Yoongi’s member. You grip his length in your hand, brushing your thumb over his sensitive tip making Yoongi twitch.
“A little bit of both honestly. I mean, mostly hard but— woah woah woah, stop!” Yoongi panics once you put your mouth on his dick. He immediately sits up, his back resting against the head board. “I’m not doing this with you.” He says, to which one of your eyebrows flick up.
“Why not?” You scoff. “You don’t seem to have any problem fucking all these other bitches.” Yoongi lets out an unamused laugh, wiping his hands over his face. “You’re not other bitches. You don’t throw yourself on my dick.”
“I just did!” Technically, you did.
Yoongi scoffs, mumbling something under his breath. “It’s not the same thing. You’re invested in this _______ and you know it.” You turn your head away from him, not wanting to hear the truth. “I don’t need you to have another reason to hate me.” Rolling your eyes—
“I don’t hate you.”
“You’re just saying that.” You shake your head, scooting closer to him. “I’m not. I don’t hate you, Yoongi.” You repeat, your fingers go to his hair and you focus on the way his dark hair fall on your skin before looking at him again. “And right now… I’m horny, so.” You sit in front of him, anticipating his response.
“Okay.” He shrugs.
“Okay, what?” He grabs your waist gently, pulling you closer to him. Your lips lock onto his again and this time, the pace quickens. Yoongi’s hands reach for your tank top to pull it over your chest, you lift your arms as he pulls it off, slinging it across the room. Like clockwork, you drag your shorts down as well, tossing them in the corner without a care in the world.
Yoongi’s hands roam all over your body. Taking in the feel of your body being close to his. He retracts from the kiss to drool over your body. His pale hands over your brown skin, the only source of light coming from the window. “What do you want me to do, _______?” He asks, palming your breast in both hands. You bite your lip as you look down at him touching you.
“Can I ride you?” You ask in a whisper and you could’ve swore you felt Yoongi’s dick twitch on your thigh right after the words fell off your tongue. He felt like doing a backflip. An ability he doesn’t have but that’s how you make him feel. It’s just like you to want to ride him— it being your first time even having sex with each other.
“Fuck yes.” You let out a giggle at Yoongi’s expression before leaning over to open the top drawer of your nightstand. His eyes travel with your every movement. “What are you doing?”
“Grabbing a condom.” You popped out. He purses his lips at that. “Guess I’m not the only one you’ve been wrestling in the sheets with.” Looking back at the man with the condom in your hand, the jealous look on his face makes you want to run over to your phone to take a picture. Instead you laugh.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You say, ripping open the packet. “I bought them because they’re a necessity. I’m not fucking anyone— but i’m glad I did buy them.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “I’d rather not have the neighborhood’s dick in me raw.”
It’s almost comedic the way his jaw drop. “Neighborhood’s dick is cuh-razy!” Slipping the condom on his length, you let out a giggle. Once you’ve got it on all the way you grip his shoulders, lifting your cunt over it. “It’s okay,” you jokingly reassure. “I’ll make sure to give you a good rating.”
“Oh, you got jokes— oh shit.” His demeanor changes once you rub his tip against your wet slit. “Are you—,” He reaches out to drag a finger through your folds. “You’re mad wet.” He states the obvious and when he pulls his finger away, your arousal drags with it. Without a second thought, he lifts his finger to his mouth, sucking on it to taste you. A low moan leaves his mouth. His eyes never leaving yours.
“You ready or did you change your mind?” You shake your head slowly, feeling more aroused than ever. “I’m ready.”
Once again, you maneuver his length through your folds before aligning it at your entrance. You take a deep breath and Yoongi’s hands rub your back. You slowly lower yourself down his length, feeling the pressure of him stretching you out. Your mouth falls agape when his full length is inside of your cunt.
After a few more rounds you get used to it. Yoongi stares at the action of your pussy swallowing his length. Your pussy is so tight around him, he’s afraid he might cum too fast.
He curse in your ear as you begin to ride him faster. “Fuck— you’ve been holding back on me for all these years.” Yoongi moves his hips, helping thrust into you. Your tits jump along with you as you bounce on his cock. So deep, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoes throughout the quiet apartment.
“Ah, Yoongi!” You moan out and Yoongi feels himself growing light headed. “You’re making me go crazy, _______.” He slams into your pussy faster— harder. At this point you weren’t even moving. Yoongi was the one in control of your body.
Especially when he moves you off of him, switching positions to take full control. You lie on your back, abandoned pussy and all. “Yoongi, put it back in.” You beg.
He shushes you before bending down, face in between your legs. His mouth attacks your wet cunt. He flatten his tongue to fully taste your sex. Licking and sucking all of you. His mouth sucks on your clit making you scream out in pleasure while his three fingers abuse your hole. “Yoongi, fuck that feels so good.” He slightly smirks up at you.
“Tell me whose pussy this is.” He says lowly. You could’ve came right then and there just from how sexy he said it. All dominant and territorial. The way he looks— his long dark hair sticking to his face and neck.
“Yuh— oh my god!” You moan out as your legs begin to shake at the overwhelming stimulation of his mouth and fingers.
“Tell me.” He demanded a bit louder.
“Yours Yoongi! It all yours, mm.” His fingers moves faster and you grip the sheets for moral support. “F- Fuck me Yoongi. I want your dick inside me.” It doesn’t take long before he obeys. He lifts up, just before you could orgasm and slides his hard dick inside of you. With Yoongi in control now, the pace is much faster. He lifts one of your legs up, putting it over his shoulder for better access.
Going deeper inside of you, hitting all of the right spots. You pull him down towards your body, your nails digging into his back, creating little crescent moon shaped marks. Chest to chest, Yoongi penetrates your pussy as the two of you share a feverish kiss.
“I’m gonna cum, Yoongi.” You say against his lips, out of breath. He rapidly nods his head. “Cum, mm.” His thrusts slow down, instead he makes sure to go deeper, hitting your spot repeatedly, making your legs shake around him. “Cum for me, _______.”
A few thrusts later and you cream on his dick. He pulls out, slips off the condom and starts stroking his dick. You place your hands over his, moving your mouth towards his tip. When the long drags of warm semen pour out you catch every drop of it. Mouth wide open, tongue out— you swallow his cum. Licking the tip afterwards for good measure.
Yoongi’s heavy breathing fills the room as he collapses on the bed. You get up to throw the used condom out and to collect your pajamas off the floor, walking with a bit of a limp. You toss Yoongi his basketball shorts before cleaning yourself up in the bathroom and changing.
When you come back, you find Yoongi already in his basketball shorts lying on the bed still. “Not gonna dip?” You ask, trying to sound nonchalant. You don’t want him to go but you don’t need him to know that. You were just awfully vulnerable and something similar to regret is already creeping up on you.
“Naw, why would I?” You shrug before laying in bed next to him. Not even being able to position yourself, he makes sure he cuddles into you, your face close as hell to his. “So how was the neighborhood’s dick?” He jokingly asks, laughing after. You lightly punch his chest.
“I’m not finna play with you Yoongi.” Yoongi serves you a feigned pout. “Awe, you regretting it already?” You don’t say anything because you really don’t know if you are. You don’t regret the sex because— fuck that was amazing. Best dick you ever had and you really will give him a good rating. However, the things that were said could’ve stayed unsaid. You shared too much vulnerability and that’s not something you’re comfortable with. The last thing you need is Yoongi to throw any of that shit back up in your face.
“I don’t regret it.” You conclude. His arms wrap around your waist tighter, grabbing one of your legs to wrap it around him. “But it won’t happen again. This was a one time thing.”
“But you swallowed my cum.” He pouts again and for some reason you don’t think it’s feigned this time. So you lightly smack his lips. Too much of a distraction.
“Because I didn’t want to get my covers dirty, you freak.” He dramatically raises his eyebrows. “So now I’m back to being a freak.” You sigh because it seems like he’s purposely not paying attention to what you’re actually trying to say.
“Yoongi.” You say seriously making him nod his head. “Okay, I got it. it was a one time thing.” Despite his display of understanding, you can’t help but hear the underlying disappointment in his voice.
You lay in his arms for hours. Neither of you fall asleep, replaying the previous events in your head. You debate with yourself whether or not you’re being in denial, too petty, stubborn, unreasonable. Whether or not you should give Yoongi a chance. Because right now you feel safe. Right now, everything is okay while your head rests against his beating chest. Right now…
“AGUST D GET YO’ ASS DOWN HERE NIGGA!”
You jump. You and Yoongi both lift up— your face of shock is a bit different from his. He knows what it is and you think you do too. That’s why you’re shook as fuck. The shouting and calling through the window doesn’t stop. And when Yoongi arms unravels from your waist, your heart sinks.
“What is that?” You ask.
And when that same, familiar, sorry ass, corny ass smirk that you hate so damn badly form onto Yoongi’s face… you knew.
“That’s D-TOWN BABY.”
[<< • | next >>]
JOIN THE TAGLIST
𝒿𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓃𝓈𝒸ℴ𝒸𝓀𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𓁙
┌─────❀*̥˚──────❀*̥˚─┐
© ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵖʸ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ
└───❀*̥˚─────────❀*̥˚┘
#who(re) you 🍂#jiminscockr1ng#˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚#bts smut#bts fanfic#kpop smut#bts x black reader#black reader#bts x reader#yoongi x black reader#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.
302 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tres
One shot | Once Upon a Time Masterlist | Masterlists
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Pairing: Regina Mills x fem!Reader
Genre: Smut
Words: 3.8k+
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, masturbation, biting, oral, fingering, edge play, strap-on use (r!receiving), spanking, degradation, dom/top!Regina, sub/bottom!reader, mommy kink (tiny bit), praise.
Summary: When Regina walks in to find you waiting for her, she’s not too pleased to discover you’ve started a certain activity without her. In retaliation she decides to play a little game.
A/n: Is this the most descriptive and well-worded piece I’ve written? No. Is it proof read? Also no. But I wrote it super fast, and at least it’s seggsy, so… also the first time I’ve used ‘mommy’, which was a little giggle moment. I digress, have fun reading!
It was close to 5:30 pm, and you knew what that meant. Regina would walk through the front door like clockwork in the next couple of minutes. Henry was sleeping at a friend's house, so you had the place to yourselves and intended to make the most of it.
You sat in skimpy black lingerie on Regina’s bed, back against her headboard, waiting. Black is, of course, her colour, but god, did she like it on you too. Just imagining the look on her face as she entered through the door excited you. On previous occasions, she’d shown little restraint when demonstrating her appreciation for coming home to one hell of a sight. Hands worshipped every inch of your body. Being impatient, you let your hand drop between your legs, imagining what you wanted and knew Regina would do to you.
Pushing two fingers into your underwear, finding you were already wet from the sheer memories, you slowly circled your clit, closing your eyes as a small fire grew in your lower abdomen. It was an unspoken agreement that you weren’t supposed to touch yourself, not if Regina hadn’t said, yet knowing you would be caught breaking a rule only spurred you on. You thought of Regina’s slender fingers that, night after night, filled you, her brown eyes that watched you give into her time and time again, and her lips that silenced moans and screams so loud, she thought even a silencing spell couldn’t dampen them.
At the sound of someone clearing their throat, your eyes fluttered open, revealing the face painted in your mind - though it didn’t do her beauty justice.
“And what are you doing?” Regina asked, standing in the doorway with her hands folded over her chest. Her expression was bone-chilling.
Your skin burned brighter now you’d been caught. The want to look anywhere but at her jarred through your body, but you knew she would disapprove and kept your gaze trained on her, “I was waiting for you…” you started, guiltily biting your lip, “but I got impatient.”
The anger in her eyes turned to a menacing predatory stare that dropped to your hand, still wedged in your underwear. And she smirked, “I didn’t tell you to stop.”
Regina sashayed to the bed and began crawling over you, “Fuck yourself like the little slut you are,” she whispered in your ear before taking the doughy flesh of your earlobe into her mouth and nibbling on it.
A groan broke from your throat at her gravely tone; it resembled the sound of stones scrapping along each other, shooting a bullet of pure lust straight through your chest. You could have come from her filthy words alone but followed her instructions. The angle made it difficult to achieve the fast pace fucking you craved, so you settled on running two wet fingers over your sensitive clit in a fluid motion. Small moans slipped from you, and as they grew in volume, Regina’s boldness grew too.
Her lips travelled the length of your jawline, leaving behind rouge lipstick residue. The gentleness morphed into an unquenchable thirst when she reached your lips. Regina’s tongue ran the entire length of your top lip, then your bottom, coating them in wet warm saliva. She puckered her lips and blew on them. A cool sensation tingled from your lips, working into your bloodstream and sending shivers along your spine. You drew in a shuddering breath before leaning up to deliver a hungry kiss. Her teeth bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, a reminder that, though your hands were seeing to your own pleasure, she was still the one to give the orders.
As your fingers continued to circle your clit, growing faster in pace methodically, Regina kept you occupied - swirling her tongue in and around your mouth. She moved the black lace over your chest to the side, revealing a pert nipple that quickly captured between her fingers. Your hips jerked at the sudden pleasurable pain that channelled through your body, but thankfully, the weight of Regina’s body held you down. Your clit throbbed with each movement, thrumming in time with your rapid heart rate.
When your lips were rendered useless, too preoccupied with releasing gargled ‘yes’s’ and ‘fuck’s,’ Regina moved down. Your throat fell victim to a brutal attack of harsh kisses and bites that would surely leave marks. She painted a line of red blotched down to your chest, where she swiftly took your swollen nipple into her mouth and sucked.
Your breathing was laboured, jaw shaking with each moan and whimper. The coiling in your stomach had reached an all-time high, and Regina recognised the sides of your impending orgasm right away. Her hands cupped your breasts, flicking your nipples with her thumbs while bringing her lips to your ear, “Are you going to cum for me like a good girl?”
The word ‘yes’ never made it to your tongue, your fingers and Regina’s sultry voice pushing you over the edge before you could answer. Muscles tensed all over your body, your fingers stilled over your clit, and your chest heaved pointlessly, trying to trail in gasps of air.
Regina pulled back slightly so she could watch you catch your breath. Her stare made you feel so small, but that had never been a bad thing. There was a comfort in knowing she was in charge and that she’d never let anything happen to you unless, of course, she was the one inflicting the desired damage.
“My turn,” she devilishly smirked, and before you could stop her, she had your underwear off, placed one hand by your head and two fingers buried deep inside your cunt, “we’re going to play a little game.”
A gasped shriek was all you could spare after having just come down from your high, “Whenever you get close,” she said, looking directly into your eyes, sliding her fingers out with painstaking slowness, “you tell me to stop.”
Your eyes widened in response. It was an impossible punishment, and something told you Regina had set this game up to see you fail miserably. That way, she could dish out her ‘justice.’
“We’ll do it three times. Then if you’re good,” she bent down, letting her warm breath tickle your lips and thrust her fingers back inside you, hard, “I’ll fuck you senseless for however long you want.”
From that point on, you were determined. Three? You could handle three. But then her fingers started moving, and suddenly three started to feel more like a hundred, and the possibility of cutting one orgasm short already felt like too much of a challenge.
Regina showed no signs of being in a rush. Why would she? She wanted to make this last, make you suffer, reduce you to whimpering aimlessly and begging for her. Of course, you wanted to hate her for it. Instead, it made you wetter than ever.
Your hands gripped firmly to the bedsheets, battling between pushing them away and pulling them towards you repeatedly, not knowing what you needed more at that moment. When Regina caught wind of your conflicting actions, she chuckled. The cruel mockery sent another wave of arousal to flood between your legs as her fingers pumped in and out of your pussy. Every attempt you made at quickening the pace was reprimanded. She’d slow down, almost to a halt, until you’d ceased all movement and only then would she resume. It was pitiful, and you knew it. You’d whine, and she’d ‘tsk’, shutting you up instantly. Your only outlet was the ruffled bedsheets and the pillow you used to silence your protests.
Taking pity on you, Regina increased her vigour. Her fingers curled deep inside you, massaging the spongy lining of your g-spot, knowing it would push you right over the edge - had you not been playing this little game she’d set up, you would have cum then and there.
You knew what you had to do when you felt the tension reach an all-time high, “Stop!” you screamed.
And she did. Regina waited a few moments before pulling her fingers out, smirking when your pussy clenched around them - clearly unsatisfied and wanting more.
“One down, two to go,” She said, kissing lightly on your temple. She looked down at you, and her eyes softened, “Colour?”
“Green,” you shakily breathed out. Reaching down, you fiddled with the buttons of her slacks, and she did the rest, pulling them off and throwing them somewhere across the room, leaving her in just a silk blouse and underwear.
The softness faded from her eyes, mischief replacing it. A grin lined her lines. She leaned down to your ear and muttered, “Good.”
Her lips lowered to yours, taking them into a fierce, passionate kiss that knocked the wind out of you. It was easy to fall into the moment, let your hands wrap around her waist, feel silk tickling your stomach, and smell Regina’s signature sharp perfume. Her tongue slid over your lower lip, and you followed her lead by opening your mouth. It was wet and messy and just the way you liked it.
Slowly, the kiss stopped with her moving further down your body. First, to nibble and suck on your neck, then to your breasts, where she took your bra off and lathered your nipples. Her tongue ran over and around them. She’d suck one into her mouth and release them with a pop. Meanwhile, you were happy to lay back and enjoy the show, encouraging her actions with appreciative sighs and hums. Moving south along your stomach, she pecked what felt like every inch of it. Finally, when you’d started to feel impatience and excitement bubble to the surface, the mayor’s hands came to rest on either side of your thighs. She bowed down, ass perched in the air whilst she teased kisses along your inner thighs.
Begging was useless; she’d only prolong the torment, yet you found you couldn’t stop letting out a small whimper followed by a soft ‘please’. If she heard the slip, she let it pass, instead choosing to wrap her arms around your thighs and secure them over your hips.
The open window let in a cool breeze that circulated the room and made the sweat on your body cold. It calmed your racing pulse, and you closely monitored the tension easing from aching muscles, happy to forget about the upcoming torture of halting your pleasure, even if the reward would be worth it.
This lasted for all of ten seconds before the draft coming in was forgotten, and Regina finally ran her tongue through your drenched sex.
You were no stranger to the magic Regina could perform with her tongue, which was why you relaxed and enjoyed the slow licks along your slit, the gentle sucking on your clit and, with one hand, gripped onto the headboard above you, the other brushing Regina’s hair off her forehead.
The attention to your clit was now alternating between sucks and licks. Sometimes she lay her tongue flat and slithered it over the hardened nub. Other times she'd use the tip of it to run stiff circles or figures of eight over it. Traipsing fingers through dark hair, you made every effort to contain screaming out. Your body desperately wanted more than what was being bestowed.
After minutes of endless torture, she prodded your entrance with her two middle fingers, only pushing them in halfway and pulling them back out. She repeated this process until you got too impatient and unintentionally tried to push yourself down onto her fingers. This attempt was unsuccessful, what with the force she used to push your hip down into the bed.
When you looked down, her eyes were glued to you, and still, they held that dominance that told you things would move at her rate, and there’d be no two ways about it. You’d have been annoyed if it wasn’t for the fact it - having control ripped away from you - only turned you on more.
It felt like your whole body had been submerged in boiling water, the slick salted lining of sweat had all but coated your body, and your breath was uncontrollable. There was no hope in holding back moans and mewls with your body being worked up and deprived all at once. No coherent thought seemed to be in your head. The only thing you knew was Regina, and Regina and Regina.
Finally, her fingers pushed all the way, and your hand flew from the headboard to join its twin in her hair. A loud cry echoed across the room, and you felt Regina smirk over your aching clit. She took the bundle of nerves into her mouth and ran her teeth along it. A gasped moan left your parted lips. This time it was broken off with a near scream as Regina started to pump her fingers in and out of you rapidly.
You sprang upwards on the bed and loudly panted, “I’m going to, I’m going to cum. Fuck!”
Prying her tongue away and stilling her fingers, she looked at you with a raised brow and said, “You could have gone a few extra seconds, dear.” Nevertheless, she waited for you to calm down before removing her fingers and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
By this point, you were practically dripping onto the bedsheets. An ache had spread to every inch of your body, and you yearned for all the teasing to stop. If not for the gentleness that appeared between moments of unrest, you’d have thrown in the towel. Yet, the small kisses she dropped over your stomach, the tender smile she gave you, and the way she nuzzled her head in your neck so that you could breathe in her hair motivated you to push ahead and persevere.
Absorbing this spike in affection, your fingers ran through brunette tresses. Closing your eyes, you let your worries float out the window into the late afternoon breeze.
This time Regina moved slower. She wedged her thigh between your legs and started a slow grinding motion. The abundant slickness present easily allowed for the movement. She didn’t protest or hold your hips down when you matched her actions, so you kept going. Kneading your breast between her hands, she lowered her head down and took your left nipple between her teeth and bit down lightly on it. A balance of pain and pleasure set your body alight, and you found your hips moving faster.
Maybe it was the intensity of the moment, the shift in atmosphere that thrummed through your body - warming your chest and distracting your mind - but you didn’t stop Regina when you felt that familiar tension home in your lower abdomen. Instead, it continued to reach its peak until it was too late, and you’d let out an alarmingly loud moan that bounced around the room and, more importantly, bellowed in Regina’s ears.
“Did you do what I think you did?” she asked, her voice having a bite to it that drained away the pleasure of what had happened, leaving fear and a sense of disappointment behind your actions. There was none of the gentleness you’d previously observed, and whilst that scared you, it also struck an excited note in you.
Taking your silence and lack of eye contact as an admission, she shuffled backwards on the bed, kicked her legs over the side, and continued in the same menacing tone, “Come here.”
You did as told, muttering apologies that Regina paid little to no attention to. You shuffled forward and stood on your knees next to the edge of the bed.
Taking you over her knees, her hand made firm contact with your left ass cheek. The slapping sound rang through the room, travelling straight back to you, waking up the submissive side within you that would do anything to please and putting any thoughts of disobeying to sleep. A series of harsh slaps left you whimpering and deciding whether to beg her to stop or to keep going. But then Regina’s palm made swift contact with your cunt, leaving behind a delicious sting.
“Oh god,” you moaned. The burn around your clit was near maddening, and you were sure if you didn’t get some proper relief soon, you’d die, “Please, Regina.” You begged.
“What do you want, baby?” her voice dripped with power.
“I want you to fuck me.” You whined, “Please fuck me.”
“Stay there, and don’t move.” She commanded, sliding back and off the other side of the bed. You heard rummaging and things lightly dropping to the floor but couldn’t see much from the position she had you stay in. The bed dipped beside you, “Suck.” She growled.
Turning your head to her, you saw Regina had now stripped down to only her panties. Fastened to her hips was her favourite harness - on it the second biggest dildo she owned. The sight of it made your lips water and your clit twitch. Powerful, she didn’t need a thrown or a crown. This was enough to remind you she was a queen and you a lowly subject.
“Fuck,” you muttered, crawling over and holding onto her hips.
Bringing your lips to the tip of the faux cock you slowly opened your mouth and sucked the tip in. Although the brunette could gain pleasure from this, simply by using her magic to make her cock real, you knew this was another demonstration of dominance. The thought caused you to moan and show Regina just how willing you were to please, so you took her entire length into your mouth and began bobbing your head.
Before long, Regina had her hands in your hair as you lubed up the strap, taking it repeatedly to the hilt, then back out again, over and over.
“You look so pretty sucking mommy’s cock.” she mused, pulling your head back and cleaning the spit off the sides of your mouth, “Such a good girl.”
Staring up at her, you couldn’t help but feel a little pride rise in your chest and had to bite back a smile. You let it slither across your lips when Regina pulled you up and crashed her lips onto yours. Her hands circled your waist whilst her knees moved forward, guiding you towards the head of the bed. Once your head hit the pillow - promoted by a little push from Regina - plump lips found your neck and sucked your pulse point so hard there was no chance a mark would not be seen the following day.
Fingers danced over your chest and torso, light enough to pry small giggles. Suddenly, her hands found your hips, and she flipped you over so your stomach and breasts lay flat against the bed. With her firm grip, she tugged your hips up and held you in place as she moved forward and back, teasing your cunt with silicone.
You stifled a groan into a pillow and allowed Regina what fun she wanted. Eventually, she relented and eased the tip of the strap into you. It was thick and almost painful, but the stretch was welcomed with a grateful whimper. The mayor was kind enough to take it slow, pushing in inch by inch with a steadiness that kept the action unhalted and natural.
She guided her hips back, then slammed right back into you. The scream you let out was undoubtedly audible from outside, but you couldn’t care less. She kept fucking into you like that, pulling out slow enough that you felt the bumped veins on the dildo glide over your inner walls, then, with a sudden push of her hips, filled you completely. After a while of this, clawing at the bedsheets, pillows, anything you could get your hands on, the fast-paced action you craved had you trying to wrestle against Regina’s hold on you so you could take matters into your own hands.
“You want me to fuck you hard and fast?” she spoke in a sultry voice, “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” you whined.
She quickly picked up her pace, “Tell me who you belong to. Tell me who gets to fuck you like this.”
“You!”
“Who else?” She shouted, her hips moving at double their previous speed.
The bed rocked and squeaked. Your attention remained on the cock mercilessly thrusting in and out of you.
“Who else?” she barked, delivering a swift slap to your ass.
“No one! Only you!” You screamed.
The ridges inside the strap-on meant Regina was getting as much pleasure from this as you were. Each moan you let out was followed by one of her own. She loved fucking you from behind, watching her cock disappear in and out of your pussy, and you, too, couldn’t deny the position had its benefits. For one, when she increased her speed, keeping her thrusts strong - much like she was doing then - the dildo would slide perfectly along your g-spot. The pleasure was insurmountable. The next day, you often found you could barely walk, not that it mattered when memories of the things Regina did to you were floating around in your mind.
Repeatedly, she pounded into you, the base of the cock slamming against your clit, driving you closer and closer to coming.
Getting the question out was painful because all you wanted to do was let go. “Can I come?” You shakily begged, the words coming out broken and pathetic.
“Come for me, baby.” she cooed.
Her voice alone did it. Your walls clamped around the dildo. Regina continued, prolonging the pure bliss of the powerful orgasm that shook your whole body. She held you up when your knees buckled, refusing to stop her wanton hips from fucking you with reckless abandon.
“Regina!” You loudly moaned, thrashing your head against a pillow, “Fuck! I’m going to come again!”
She didn’t relent. Instead, she trashed her palm time and time again over your ass, sending stinging pleasure through all your nerve endings. Together you cried out each other’s names, nails dug into your hip bones as you both simultaneously found your release.
She slumped down on top of you and unbuckled her harness, carefully pulling it out of your spent cunt. Regina placed it on the bedside table to be dealt with later. As she lay beside you and breathed heavily, she slung an arm over her eyes and smiled.
You scooted over to her and lay your head on her chest, drawing lazy shapes over her stomach and breast, “That was amazing,” you chuckled.
Clasping her arm over your shoulder, running soft fingers through your hair, she smirked and looked down at you, “What makes you think we’re finished?”
You met her eyes and saw that same mischievous look you so adored, “I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow, am I?”
Her smirk curved into a full-blown grin, “No, I don’t think you will. You deserve it for starting without me.”
Tags: @babygirlscout @7thavenger @five-bi-five-mind @supercorpstan97 @kenyakimble34 @12fluffybunny12 @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @asolitaryrose3 @imlike-so-gaydude @awritersometime @bossofcriminalminds | click here to be added to my taglist
#Regina mills x reader#Regina mills x you#Regina mills x femreader#Regina mills smut#Regina mills#once upon a time#OUAT#once upon a time fan fiction
410 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heroes vs. Villains : The Staff [Part 3]
Platonic GN!Reader x NRC Staff vs. RSA Staff
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. NRC Staff Version (Part 3)
ie. Detention begins, and the topic of Winter Break plans comes into question.
[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]
The first detention went about as well as you could have hoped.
You sorted paperwork, mindlessly graded the very same pop quizzes that had nearly given Deuce an aneurism just that morning, and shined all the stupid glassware that was needed to make all the stupid potions. It was grueling. And to think—you’d been doing this shit for fun not a month ago. What had been wrong with you?
“Maybe it was the Stockholm Syndrome,” you muttered irritably under your breath.
“What?”
“Nothing, sir,” you grumbled, and went back to organizing all of your tormentor’s seemingly endless collection of bits and bobs.
Professor Crewel looked over at you, his face twisted up like he wanted to say something. But after a moment of awkward silence, he just ducked his head back down to his paperwork and carried on without saying a thing.
The next afternoon didn’t look like it was shaping up to be much better. You shined, he scribbled, and you wished for nothing more than the sweet release of death. The quiet was disconcerting. Say what you will about all the time you’d spent holed up in this office before The Incident, but ‘silence’ had never been an issue. Even Crewel’s snide little barbs would be better than this—this nothingness.
‘You’re not even worth insulting anymore,’ your brain supplied helpfully. ‘Wow. Isn’t that a trip?’
“Are you almost finished?”
You startled a bit. It was the first full sentence he’d spoken to you all day. You glanced pointedly from him, to the walls upon walls of vials, and then back.
“No, sir.”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, like this entire situation was just all sorts of unpleasant for him. And not like, you know, he’d been the one to lock you into the school equivalent of prison labor for the next four weeks.
He closed the ledger he was working on with a pointed snap and stood from his chair with a grand swirl of his fur coat.
“You can be finished for the day,” he said, leaning forward to rifle around in the top drawer of his desk. “It’s already late, and you should start making your way back to your dorm before it gets too dark.”
You fought and won against the intense to desire to roll your eyes. The path back to Ramshackle was no easier to traverse in the black of night than it was in the bright light of the afternoon. And besides, it’s not like you were particularly worried about anything happening to you out there. The monsters at this school prowled its halls no matter the time of day. If anything, nighttime meant less potentially murderous magicians out on the loose. No one but you was stupid enough to try and go toe-to-toe with a wandering Tsunotarou.
“And take these with you.”
You startled once more as something was pressed into your hands. It was a familiar box—sleek and artfully colored with matte backgrounds and swirls of golden lettering etched across its face. These were the fancy cookies.
Thankfully, the spite in your belly was enough to gobble up whatever lingering love you had for the treats. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself when you passed them back to Professor Crewel with a tight smile.
“Thank you,” you said, pointedly reaching into your own backpack to procure a nearly wrapped pouch of Annie’s homemade pastries. “But I’m all set.”
His dark eyes lingered on your stash of chocolate chip cookies in a way that made you think he was going to demand you throw them away, and maybe start ranting hypocritically about the dangers of bringing food of any kind into an alchemical lab. His jaw ticked and you had the distinct impression that he was grinding his teeth.
Instead, Professor Crewel just sighed and returned the treats to his desk drawer.
“Of course,” he huffed, looking a bit dejected, and collapsed back into his chair without his usual elegance. Huh. Maybe you’d just foiled his plans to try and poison you or something. “Good evening, Prefect.”
The next afternoon, he did not mention the cookies. However, on your way out the door at the end of the night, you noticed that he’d placed the box near the coatrack—not quite on top of your belongings, but close enough.
And then it was there again the night after that.
And then again, and again.
.
.
“How’s the internment going?”
You heard a dull thwack and some angry shushing. Mister Rogerson’s laughter was muffled through the phone’s speaker, and you had a feeling that Annie had just tried to beat him with her shoe.
“It’s alright,” you snickered into your hand. “Prison is prison.”
“You know,” Mister Rogerson huffed. “I still say all of this is horribly unfair.”
You shrugged, and then remembered he couldn’t very well see that through a phone call, and sighed. “It could be worse.”
“Could it?” he asked, a clear frown in his voice.
You dutifully did not mention anything about Overblots and just sighed again. “I mean, probably.”
There was a bit of a scuffle on the other end and you heard little snippets of Annie’s kind trill. There was more laughter. It sounded warm—cozy. You glanced around at the grey, soot-stained walls of Ramshackle and tried not to feel sorry for yourself. Grim rolled over in his sleep and burrowed into your hip with a contented little mewl, which did help a bit.
“Annie wants to know if you got her care package,” Mister Rogerson said after a moment, sounding a bit like he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him. “And if you’ve thought at all about our offer to host you over the winter holidays.”
“I did, thank you,” you smiled. “It was all delicious.”
“And the break?” he asked after a moment.
“Crowley sent me some angry letter about taking care of the fairies that live in the kitchen stoves,” you said. “So I’ll have to see about that.”
“Just keep it in mind,” Mister Rogerson pressed, a bit of concern slipping into his otherwise laidback drawl. “Please?”
“Okay,” you smiled, feeling like you’d managed to steal a bit of that bubbly glow of theirs and tuck it away tight enough that even the chilly shadows of your new home wouldn’t be able to taint it. “I will.”
.
.
“Take care of the fairies in the boiler?”
“Yes,” said Crowley, with deadpan sincerity.
The other members of the staff looked on in silence—a lovely range of ‘fed up’ to ‘outright contempt’ twisting their faces.
“Well I thought it was an excellent idea,” he huffed, crossing his arms petulantly over his chest.
“No wonder this child hates you,” Trein hissed under his breath and worked his fingers into his temples like maybe if he drilled hard enough he could kill the Crowley-Induced-Migraine before it began.
The Old Crow gasped.
“How dare you—”
“And you,” Trein interrupted, turning on Crewel with a sneer. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish with any of this, Divus? An entire month’s worth of disciplinary action for one infarction? I thought you were better than, well,” a pointed glower at the raving Headmaster who was nearly collapsed in tears before them, “that.”
Crewel’s lips curled into a bitter snarl, but the aging historian before him was far from cowed.
“That’s none of your concern,” he snapped. “This is a matter between the Prefect and I, and their willful disobedience when it comes to following the rules of this institution.”
“Is that so,” Trein hummed, arching a brow in obvious skepticism. “But then again, what would I know anything about raising unruly children? I only have two lovely, successful, daughters of my own. Remind me, when was the last time you allotted even an ounce of affection to anything that wasn’t one of your purebred mongrels? Or your own ego?”
Crewel stepped forward with a scowl that was more a restrained baring of teeth.
“That has nothing to do with anything,” he sneered.
“Say what you will,” Mozus Trein tutted, and glared down his nose at the pair of them—Crewel with his poorly cloaked rage and Crowley who still refused to stop wailing about the injustices of it all. “But both of my children will be coming home for the holidays. Voluntarily.”
“Oooh,” Sam trilled, uncurling himself from the shadows for the first time all afternoon. “Get ‘em, Mozus.”
.
.
You ended up staying at Ramshackle over the break, if only because you couldn’t tell at this point if ‘oven fairies’ were a real thing, and if they were and they did starve, you’d feel absolutely terrible. Your rap sheet in this word was already a mile long—you didn’t need to add homicide to the list.
And then, of course, you ended up being kidnapped by Jamil and his smooth-talking self not a day in, so your act of goodwill really was all for naught.
You paced around your luxurious little guestroom cell, phone in hand. There wasn’t a lot of charge left on it, but you definitely had enough to make a call or two. Mister Rogerson would come help you, you knew he would. But… the problem was that you were kind of becoming a Blot expert at this point, and from the looks of things, Jamil Viper was about to go apeshit and melt into Enraged Ink Monster Number Four. Sure, the guy may have kidnapped you. But he also made great curry, and really didn’t seem that bad underneath it all. Just... quiet. And fed up with living a life of forced servitude and mediocrity. Which, y’know, totally fair.
You paced and paced.
“They have to be reported to the proper authorities,” Mister Rogerson had said. “And dealt with accordingly.”
“They’d be taken away?” you’d whispered.
“I know it sounds scary, kiddo. But that’s what we have to do to keep everyone as safe as we can.”
You grit your teeth and called Ace and Deuce instead.
They were immediately no help at all and Jamil ended up Overblotting anyways.
“Y’know,” Grim grouched, shivering into your side after Evil Jamil had yeeted you off into The Unknown and Freezing Corners of Sandy Hell. “You really should start charging for these things. We could probably make a lot of money or something.”
“That’s a great idea,” Azul nodded along, and you wanted to beat the shit out of them both.
In the end, you saved the day. As usual.
Jamil was de-inked. He was still a miserable wad of repressed hatred, but at least he was being open about it now. Everyone was alive. Azul promised to only bill you his usual rate for assistance rather than the holiday upcharge. Kalim held a feast, as per usual. And Ace and Deuce showed up at the tail end of it all, which was incredibly sweet of them and also on track with their usual brand of stupidity.
Everything had turned out great!
Except…
“How was your break?” Mister Rogerson asked. “We missed you over here!”
“It was great,” you lied, images of black tar running from narrowed eyes and the suffocating sensation of dark magic flooding your throat. “It was great.”
.
.
You walked into detention on Monday afternoon feeling like shit warmed over. And looking like it too, you would guess, seeing the way Crewel’s eyebrows shot all the way up his forehead.
You stayed silent throughout the whole thing, quietly sorting bottles and blends, and trying to keep your mind off the fact that you had very nearly died. Again. You could feel Crewel’s eyes on you throughout the entire ordeal, tracking you in a way that reminded you of someone watching a car crash that they just couldn’t quite force themselves to look away from.
“Prefect,” he called as your were half-way through shrugging on your coat at the end of the evening.
“Yes, sir?” you sighed, not even bothering to look up from the floor.
He was silent for one moment, two, three.
“…Get some rest tonight,” he ordered. It sounded like a cop out—like he’d wanted to say something else but hadn’t had the words for it.
You sighed again, bone deep and weary. “Yes, sir.”
.
.
You did not, in fact, rest that night. A horrible cocktail of nightmares tugged at your brain from dusk ‘til dawn, and you woke up feeling worse than you had when you’d gone to sleep.
You barely forced yourself to go to detention, and only because you knew it would only get worse if you tried to skip out. However, when the door to Crewel’s office creaked open, you were not met by a head of neatly dyed black-and-white hair, but a yowling mass of flying fur and limbs that immediately sent you sprawling to the floor.
Jasper and Badun yelped and cried in the ways that all excited dogs cry, and laved your face with so many kisses you couldn’t have counted them even if you tried. Your hands went into their soft scruffs on instinct, and you had to fight valiantly not to burst into tears.
There was a hand at your back then, urging you towards the comfy, plush, chair that you’d once called yours. You plopped gracelessly against the opulent cushions, and the pair of delighted dogs quickly bounded up to join you—squishing their too-large bodies into your lap and across the armrests. The duo buried their noses into your shoulder, your hip, any nook and cranny they could reach. And you felt warm for the first time since the holidays.
When you woke up later (hours? Days? You couldn’t tell), you and Jasper and Badun were all still bundled together in that chair—the three of you tucked in gently beneath the soft furs of a very familiar black and white coat.
.
.
TAG LIST [CLOSED]
@juulranch @thenyxsky @kalims @theneurodivergentdummy @pen-observing @afternoon-read @ai-dev @anasianplate @marvelous-maxi @inkkedreamz @honey-deerling @fabitheraven @rebloging-everything @vasiliki-koshka @cassidycampfire @youaskedfurret @asimpleazur @iwannabeacrow @hatsunemiku2025 @ambievert @clappincobracheeks @horcrux-alchemist @crypticbibliophile @nyotnyota @ally-glow @yourimaginaryfriiendd @hamdehlesmis @scarapeep @https-casanova @niki-chan15 @insomnia-space @rabioa @ailynyan @posionapplecider @5sos-wdw @nightskylark @the-dumber-scaramouche @sxftiebee @stingywiththeirusername @peachy-centipede @da-disappointment @nekogal16 @zero-nightshade @duskimoo @queenaveryrules @mys-harmony @cerisescherries / @existingcurrently @littlemusicfox25 @spaceyrunes @un-petit-peu-confused @destinationdesignation @medleycharm @chocolateduckdinosaur @barryatsumu @ttwinrytwo @cerisescherries @imaginedfantasies @whathappenedtobees @trixeraptops @obaniori @cleos-stuff @thededly2 @fuckingfaraway @kttyfngs @ernavielle
#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#My Writing#NRC Staff#NRC Staff x Reader#Divus Crewel x Reader#Dire Crowley x Reader#The NRC Staff's Horrible Parenting#But maybe getting a lil better#Heroes vs. Villains#Crewel x Reader#twisted wonderland OCs#twst ocs#Divus Crewel#Dire Crowley#Heroes vs Villains The NRC Staff Part 3
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
My Little Saesang (Part 2)
chubby reader x idol jungkook
Summary: Y/N had been a super fan for a while. Some would say bordering on saesang or creep level. She didn't think she was one, till she experienced an incident that made her stop being a fan. She had never thought that Jungkook or any of BTS ever noticed her, as she was part of the masses of obsessive fans. But they had. Especially, one doe eyed idol in particular. He never thought he would miss his fan, or shall we say saesang. Yet, he couldn't help but notice her absence. He took her comforting presence, her kind eyes, hair disheveled in excitement, and wide smile for granted. And he didn't know when her presence started to matter to him so much. When exactly did she become such a constant in his life?
Disclaimer: The Jungkook represented in this fic does not reflect the true actions or thoughts of the real life Jungkook. Please treat this fic as exactly what it is, fiction
Triggers: Critique of fandom culture and kpop as a whole, identity crisis, eventual smut
Note: Not proofread. Slated to be approximately 4 parts or less.
Jungkook POV
It took me about two weeks, but I did start to notice her absence. I never got her real name. But I and all the other members christened her with the moniker of strawberry shortcake, for how tiny and chubby she was, and also how flushed her entire face and neck become as she jumped up and down to our songs. We called her berry or SS for short. The few fans we had from the beginning, we either knew their actual names or had little nicknames to commemorate them.
She was a fan of the entire group, but I knew I was her bias, and so did the other members. It was obvious, the way she left tiny gifts wrapped in gold and red ( as though it were perpetually christmas year round for her) addressed towards me. She even took fancams of me, her eyes furtively moving along my body , gasping when she caught sight of my abs over the years. I wouldn't deny that sometimes I played up my antics for the camera just so I could catch her mouth wide open in an "O" petrified in shock as she bopped her head up and down manically.
Berry was not there. And it was starting to really bother me. It shouldn't in fact. She shouldn't matter that much to me. Yet, I always had her in my corner since debut. I always had her eyes on me, watching over me. It felt comforting even though she had gotten a little too close for comfort twice or thrice by accosting me with gifts on sets of music video shoots or backstage. Her specialty was with desserts. She would always leave me coffee infused brownies and tres leche cake towards the end of the year right in front of the HYBE building, addressed to me specifically with a cheery little note wishing me for christmas and new years.
And now I was staring at the entire crowd at MusicBank, surveying the area to see her familiar face. She was usually in the first row, bopping her light stick in an erratic manner, mouthing the lyrics to the song, staring at me with excited eyes that lit up with glee. The girl really didn't seem to love material things, because she would always wear the same red beanie and pearl earrings I had been seeing for the past 5 years. Her clothes were always a nondescript black or brown shade, pants and a sweater. She never really donned feminine clothes in all the years I had noticed her.
As I looked for her, I could only find her associate, the ARMY who always stuck by her, who we had named Specs. The tall, lithe limbed girl glared at me. It felt like she was piercing daggers through my skull as she squinted though her black thick framed glasses. She had always had a smile on her face, and now she looked so angry. Yoongi always had a tiny crush on her. She had supported him for ages, even paying for his meals many times when he was still a trainee. Why was she so indignant?
Before I could start questioning all of this even further, Yoongi came up to me with a hand on my shoulder, noticing Specs, "How is my baby doing? And why the hell is she glaring at you like you murdered her first born child? Did you do anything to her?", he questioned in a worried tone of voice. I answered back, "Of course not. I don't really interact with fans that personally. You know that hyung".
He continued quizzically, raising one eye brow up, "Where is berry? My baby Specs is alone today? You really must've done something to fuck things up. She isn't even looking at me. Totally ignoring me. The hell, she usually smiles softly at me and today she looks like somebody pissed on her breakfast. What gives"?
I had no idea what was going on. Our loyal fans for years, people who we didn't necessarily consider saesangs, but just sort of obsessive in their devotion, were either not present or ignoring us. What the hell was becoming of this fandom?!!!!
That's when I saw Berry push through the crowd. And I was so shook, that an earthquake could've come through and swallowed me up and I wouldn't have cared. Berry was dressed in a peach colored floral fit and flare dress with her customary pearls in her ears and what looked like heels on. The only way I knew was that she looked taller than usual. She had a floral ribbon in her hair, lip gloss on, eye make up on point. What the hell was she up to all of a sudden?
Her hair was streaming down her back in waves, loosened from the customary ponytail I saw all the time. She hugged Specs and a few other armies who I noticed she always had around with her. She kissed another army in a wheelchair on the cheek, plopping a pastry box in her hands and wrapping her neck with a scarf. With the deadest look in her eyes, lifeless and devoid of the usual pretty sparkle, she stared at me, as though it were some sort of messed up farewell. WTF??!!! Why did this feel like a good bye? She just looked so done.
She didn't smile at me or any of the members. She gave her light stick to another baby Army in 3rd row, she looked back once wistfully, and left the place through the door.
Where the fuck was she going?!!!?!
After the performance, dreading the fact that Berry left right in the beginning (something she had never done even once in the past years) , I walked up to Specs in the front row. The gangly girl looked super shocked to see me right up in front of her. I squeaked out in mild panic, "Where is your friend? She looked all dressed up and cute today. Does she have plans or something?"
The initial shock wore off on Specs face as something akin to irritation filtered through, "She has a date today , with a coworker I believe. That's why she is dressed up. But you don't need to know that. Today was her official last day as active super fan. She is still a fan, but she's decided to convert from offline to online fan. That's it". Specs said all this with a finality that started freaking me out. I stuttered, "SS-S-S-S-he became an online fan. Meaning, she won't show up in person to our events anymore"?
Specs muttered derisively, "Do you not understand anything I just said. Korean is your first language right? I just told you she is done being such an avid fan". She snorted, looking tired with a distant glaze in her eyes , "Maybe even I should stop. I am getting too old for this shit. My mom keeps telling me to get married, and here I am attending all this stuff, obsessing over millionaires who have more money than I ever could in my life. I am becoming an old fucking lady and I don't even have a husband or family of my own. I guess all of us older armies might need to redirect our lives back towards ourselves".
She stomped away after that remark. Yoongi ran up to me as I walked back stage. He inquired , "Is Specs still there? I was going to ask her for her number".
I grumbled out with my hands on my head, "She left hyung. So did berry, a while ago. I think we are losing our OG fans. Berry never left me once in the last few years. Even when we became so famous in the US, she never stopped attending my events, even some of the big ones in the US. What went so wrong that she is quitting?"
Yoongi choked in confusion, "You mean to tell me that both Specs and Berry are quitting. They ain't even that old, maybe late 20s. Oh no, fuck!!! My baby, Specs, I never told her how much she meant to me. What did she say?" Yoongi, shook my arm hard, trying to squeeze answer out at me. "She said that she is becoming too old for this and maybe she should get married soon, because her mother is pressuring her".
Yoongi's eyes popped wide open, panic and fear evident in his eyes, squeaking, "WTFFFFF. Since when did they give up on us like this? I can't let Specs go. She has been with me before I was famous , looking like a homeless dude, and even now. I have to get her back!!!! The fuck, I need to talk to the ARMY fanclub president for her contact". He scurried off in anxiety, leaving me back to stew in sadness. What had I done so wrong for Berry to leave me after so many years? Something must've ticked her off. Shit, the chocolate. It all hit me in a frenzy. It was the Godiva chocolate. That limited edition Christmas chocolate she had left for me that day on set.
It had been one of the hardest days in my schedule, and just seeing her face had made it all better. But the irritation had gotten to me, and in my anger at being hangry on a diet, I had thrown the chocolate in the trash. Oh no. Wait. A dreadful thought entered my head. What if she thought, that it was my rejection of her support and love as a fan? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She probably thought I hated her or something when it was just a bad day.
What bothered me even more, was that she had skipped my event to attend a date. A date with a guy who was not me. This thought filtered through my head, and I froze. Why did it aggravate me so much that she was on a date with another dude? Then I imagined her soft eyes, gleaming with love as she stared at another guy, kissed him on the cheek, sharing a chocolate cake with him and partaking in a chocolate-fililed kiss on the lips.
I felt like literally crying. I don't know why I did. But, I just did. I had to find her no matter what and I had to do it fast, before she gave up on me.
Y/N POV
The date had been fine. Jung-shik had been a cute guy, all brown curls , shy smiles and blushes. He was one of the art managers at KBS who I had met at the bakery. We talked about work, music, and art, eating cheese cake at a cake cafe. He had been a true gentleman, asking me what I wanted to have and opening the door for me, even going so far as to drop me near the bus station.
I sat at the bus station, waiting for my ride back at him when I saw a billboard of the sexy man himself, Jungkook. I could never escape this guy it seemed, even in death. I had felt his stare at me and Kim Hee today. It was odd, he never stared at individual fans like. He did that with particularly beautiful Armys---total models and divas I tell you. But, never with me. Even Yoongi stared at Kim Hee like they had three kids together, like she was coming home with him, like she was married to him---as much as that girl liked to deny it.
I never felt him even acknowledge me, with a glance, till today. I could feel the smoldering presence digging into my skin. Probably cause I dressed up for once today. As I was about to get on the bus that had pulled in, I saw a flash of black fluffy hair.
Before I could get on the bus, a strong sturdy vascular hand encircled my wrist, stopping me from getting on. Looking up at this man's face, I realized who it was. Doe eyes pierced into my face with a cutting glare, a sneer on his face, chewed up lips contorting in anger and ......something that felt like envy, "Who the hell did you go on a date with Berry? You better not be giving my chocolates away to anyone else".
#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#chubby reader#smut#eventual smut#angst#self love#jungkook x chubby reader#jungkook x curvy reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x plus size reader#jungkook bts#bts#bts angst#bts x chubby reader#bts x curvy reader#bts x plus size reader
221 notes
·
View notes
Text
╰───► MORAL CONSCIENCE- e. williams smau.
「tres」 ⇢ love between
Pairing — streamer! ellie x youtuber!black fem!reader x rockstar! dina
warnings — 18+ MDNI !!!, cussing, smut, fingering, oral (r receiving)
a/n ik ts took like tears to come out but HERE !( btw, this is a week after dina’s party 🧘🏾) this is also not proofread so.. ntm !!
chapter 2 ⇢ chapter 4
as you locked your phone and got up to let ellie in you felt bad for lying to dina even tho you really didn’t have any obligations to her. it still hadn’t hit you that you and dina were really done and you were fucking around with one of her best friends. but you couldn’t lie, it felt good to be with someone new and not someone who’s fucked you over time and time again.
shaking your head at your slowly declining thoughts you let ellie in and gave her a hug to which she took it upon herself to wrap her arms around your waist and sneakily (not) feel up on your ass and squeeze while pulling you into a heated kiss. you shuddered a moan into her mouth and reciprocated the kiss for a while before breaking it and looking up at her. she smiled and dove back in for more making you smile and let out a soft laugh.
“we’re supposed to be talking, not making out ellie” you smile into her incessant kissing before pulling back from her lips to look into her piercing green eyes. “i know, i know but i couldn’t help it” she kisses you one more time before moving to go sit on your light pink couch. you follow after her and sit facing her with your knees pulled into your chest before speaking, “ um so.. i know we both know how much drama this would cause if dina were to find out. and i think we should like slow down ? i don’t know but i feel like we’re moving very fast especially since i’ve just got of a relationship with dina, who’s you’re literal bestfriend and i feel super shitty right now and i wanna continue pursuing.. this .. thing? we have but-” you stopped yourself at the touch of ellie grabbing your hands to try and help calm you down before you drew in a deep breath and continued on with your rant and exposing how you feel. “but i feel like we should slow down, like no more fucking until we decide if this is something serious and not us just fucking around behind dina’s back” you exhaled deeply once you were finished saying what you needed to say and waited with bated breath to hear ellie’s response
she started nodding her head and said “yea, i agree. we are doing shit very unconventional and i don’t wanna hurt dina nor do i wanna hurt you. i really like you y/n and i want to actually see where this goes even if we are like super sexually compatible” she smirks at you as you groaned at her last statement. “ellie be so for real oh my god!” you laughed at her in embarrassment.
❥—————————————————————————————>
“ellie fuckkk-”
you honestly don’t know how you got in this position. at one point you and ellie were just talking and watching shows on netflix, trying to adhere to your rule of no fucking, but… that’s didn’t last long at all. ellie had (like always) brung some pre-rolls and decided you both should get high. it’s not like the last time y’all did that you both ended up naked under soft silken sheets in a penthouse apartment, but hey! you thought tonight would be different because you set some ground rules until you decided it wasn’t going to fast. you were wrong. as soon as ellie gave you a shotgun kiss it was over.
so now here you were, losing your mind over ellie’s tongue in your pussy. she was so good at sucking your soul and the tongue piercing didn’t help. you’ve already came like two times already and ellie would not let up. she said she’s just trying to make up for causing you so much emotional distress but you called bullshit. you weren’t complaining tho. ellie one of the best you’d ever had, almost better than dina. almost.
“ellie i can’t take itttt” you whined and pushed at her head. she was getting frustrated with how many times you kept trying to run and smacked your thigh before pinning them down by your ears. this girl had you to where you were unable to move and all you could do was take what she gave you. “i told yo ass to stop moving.” she emphasized her words with a harsh thrust of her fingers in your pussy before pistoning them and hitting that spongy spot that made your eyes roll back and your toes curl in pleasure.
all you could do was moan from the immense pleasure you were feeling. you know this whole arrangement was wrong but you couldn’t deny the way ellie made you feel.
“mmm i love this pussy baby” ellie moaned into your clit, still thrusting her slender but long fingers into your pussy. she raised her eyes to look at you. she found your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your mouth agape. your face was contorted in pleasure and she loved the sight of how her ministrations affected you. “you gonna cum baby? feel your pussy clenching all on my fingers” she chuckled at your pathetic state and you whimpered at the rapidly rising feeling of your orgasm approaching. “ellie shittt im close, don’t stop!” you grabbed ellie’s shoulders and digged your nails in at the feeling of her speeding up.
you were out of your mind. ellie was pounding her fingers into you so hard and fast that all that was on your mind was her. you weren’t thinking about dina and what would happen if yours and ellies escapades we’re to be found out. the combination of ellie fucking you with her fingers and making out with your clit pushed you over the edge with a piercing scream. “oh my godddd” ellie groaned into your pussy and pulled out her fingers before licking your cum off of them.
“you taste so good baby” she moaned and bent down to give you a deep kiss. you whimpered into her mouth while reciprocating and wrapping your arms around her neck. she pecked you on the lips one, two times before leaning back and smirking at you smugly. “oh fuck off!” you rolled your eyes and hit her upside the head with your pillow, she laughed in response and gave you another kiss.
#ellie williams#mariefilms#ellie x fem reader#ellie tlou#ellie williams tlou#the last of us#ellie williams x black!reader#the last of us ellie#ellie williams x female reader#tlou2#smau#ellie smau#ellie williams x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie williams smut#ellie x blk!reader#ellie x you#tlou smau#ellie williams angst#ellie williams x you#ellie x black!reader#dina x reader#dina x black!reader#dina x fem reader#dina the last of us#dina tlou#dina woodward#dina smau#dina nolastname#ellie x reader
355 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mr. Black, Part 4
Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male and fem receiving) dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.
Summary: Tre invited you to his place. After pampering yourself on his dime, you're still not sure that this is what you should be doing. However, he can be very persuasive.
Word Count: 6,439k
A/N: Lissen, don't look at me okay?! This story is scratching a deep fucking niche. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed
Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @westside-rot @prettypink-princesss @kawaiisadoglu @thadelightfulone @the-crystal-one
Getting pampered was exactly the remedy you needed. You got your nails and toes down in your favorite color. You couldn’t stop looking at the pretty color on your nails and squealing about it being on Tre’s dime. You felt slightly guilty, so you made sure to tip with your own money.
You went shopping for a sexy pair of black lingerie with all kinds of peek-a-boo straps that you imagined Tre uncovering. The front covered your boobs with an intricate flower design trailing down to the panties that covered your pussy. Straps connected to the underwire, middle, and over your hips. The back was a criss cross of straps ending up with a strip of fabric in your ass that was surprisingly comfortable.
You took your time getting dolled up. Running a shower to get the gunk off of you and then hopping in the bath to truly soak. You massaged your favorite lotion into your skin. You felt dirty over such a simple task but you knew that Tre would appreciate the extra care.
You felt downright naughty as you shimmied into the lingerie piece. You checked your ass in the mirror while you adjusted the straps and made sure that your body was banging. Tonight had to be the last night you two got together.
You couldn’t be held responsible for this thing between you. You had no idea what to call it. He wasn’t yours and you weren’t his, despite his proclamations otherwise. You didn’t need the extra headache of sleeping with your boss.
But how could you stop? When you got around him, you just wanted to hop to his every command. You loved the way he loved your body, playing it like a well tuned instrument in a prodigy’s hands. If you experienced such incomparable pleasure, who else could compete?
You had time to think about how you were going to tell him that tonight absolutely had to be the last time between you. It had to be. You chanted that in your head as you pulled up to Tre’s house.
You expected some huge mansion with fifteen bathrooms and a million bedrooms. His house was a modest two story that was picturesque in its simplicity. The house was white with black trim, clean lawn, and a wide brick front porch. There was even a tiny fence around the lawn, more decorative than anything else.
Ascending the stairs was not unlike walking to your death as you knocked on the door and rang the doorbell. Your nerves skittered along your spine, twisting your stomach into painful shapes.
Before long, Tre opened the door. You didn’t know why you kept expecting certain things about him. He defied expectations. Laughed in its face as he marched to the tune of his own drum.
He licked his lips as he took in your sexy little black dress and fuck me heels. He stepped to the side and held his hand out so that he could help you over the threshold. You took his warm hand with a smile, letting him pull you inside. He closed and locked the door behind you.
The foyer area was spacious with dark features. The furniture was dark wood, floors cherry, and the walls painted a velvety blue. He helped slip your coat off of your shoulders and sighed in appreciation.
“Good evening, beautiful,” he said.
You lifted an eyebrow and turned to look at him. He said nothing as he continued to look you over. Wait till he saw what you wore underneath.
You dug in your clutch purse and handed him his card. “You have to take this back,” you said.
He looked at the card in your hands. He placed his hands in his pockets and you pressed your lips together, preparing for a fight. You were a bit distracted by what he wore. He was in his signature black but pared way down. He wore a long-sleeved sweater with the sleeves rolled up three-quarters of the way up his muscled arms.
His pants were loose fitting, almost like lounge pants, but didn’t look to be so. He didn’t wear shoes in the house, opting instead for black house shoes. His glasses were perched on his nose and his beard looked just as soft as you remembered from earlier in the day.
You squared your shoulders and shoved the card against his chest. “You have to take this back,” you said once more.
He smirked at the card. “As much as I want you to keep them heels on, I will ask you to slip them off,” he said.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Keep the card. It’s yours now. Spend all my money,” he said.
You sputtered and gaped at him. “I-I can’t. That’s…”
The complete opposite to what you were trying to do tonight. Would it be completely wrong to wait till after you got dicked down to tell him that this was over? You wrestled with your morals. Yesss…
“Sir,” you said with a deep breath. Time to rip the band aid.
“I made us dinner and I want to discuss some things with you before you try to end this,” he said.
“How did you know?”
Tre only shook his head, nodding down at your shoes. You scoffed as you finally took off your heels. You bit back a moan as your feet hit the cold wood. You wiggled your toes and Tre caught the motion with an amused smile.
“We’re similar in a lot of ways. Stubborn to the point of obstinate,” he said.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the house. You put the card up in your clutch one-handed. To your left, there was a small living room with a few couches and chairs. More like a receiving room than anything people actually lived in. Next to it, there was a formal dining room with dark tables and chairs, a cabinet with fancy glassware. It was like you stepped into a magazine. Everything was decorated and gorgeous.
Further down the hallway, a staircase led up to the second floor. It was a subtle spiral staircase and you wondered if the tour would continue up there. You supposed not.
The hallway opened up to a family room. Here, the furniture looked a little more lived in. The walls were paneled and matched the blue couches. The stone fireplace did not have a fire lit. There was a large screen TV on the wall with a wooden cabinet beneath it with game consoles, remotes, and DVDs stacked in the corner.
It seemed instantly cozy, like you just wanted to sink down onto one of the couches and sleep for five years. On the other side of the staircase, the kitchen had a half wall separating it from the main living room. There were three black bar stools that Tre led you to. He pulled it out for you and you sat down.
He entered the kitchen and pulled a top off of a boiling pot. The food smelled divine. Like creamy pasta.
The kitchen had stained cabinets with a stone backsplash. The countertops were a light shade of ash wood and he had every modern compliance on the market. You eyed everything warily.
Maybe he rented this place. There was no way he was this damn refined. Not with the way he acted most of the time. You felt like you were out of your depth here. You were used to dealing with well-meaning men who just…weren’t grown in the grand scheme of things.
Half the time, you had to do all the work. Sure, they said the right things and did the right things. But sometimes, little things would bother you. If it was their decision to go to the chocolate shop, you would pick out some candy. At the register, they would ask if you were going to buy it. It was incredibly awkward pulling your wallet out for an unexpected expense.
It was why you hated asking for things. Fuck ‘em. You made your own money and you didn’t need anyone to buy you things. Tre’s chain around your thigh rubbed against your other thigh as you settled fully on the bar stool. You still felt incredibly guilty wearing it but it added to how sexy you felt.
You were a conflicted ball of nerves and you hated your brain sometimes.
“You think that this is something I started on the spur of the moment. I’m not that spontaneous,” Tre said, breaking the silence.
You snapped your attention to him. He had his back to you while he stirred the pot. He tapped the wooden spoon against the pot and then picked up a metal one. He dipped it into the sauce, tasted it, and then rinsed it off.
He replaced the top and then turned to look at you, leaning his arms on the countertop. “I’ve never been a trees for the forest type of guy. I see the whole damn forest. I see beyond it. I see what I want and I go for it with a single-minded focus. It’s helped in business,” he continued.
Your heart thundered in your chest. You had no idea where this was going, but it seemed important.
“When you started, I knew I wanted you. You were so…good.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you said.
He shook his head. “Not bad. But it pissed me off. When you fire people for a living, you have to turn off that empathic part of yourself. You can’t see people, you can only see numbers. When you started, I wanted to stamp that goodness out if I could. Get you to quit on your own.”
You gasped. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”
Tre held up his hands. “Let me finish.”
You wanted to climb over the table top and strangle that thick neck of his. But this was the most you ever heard him speak in one sitting. He was very much an action type of man. So you bit your tongue and waved for him to continue.
“I needed you to quit because I couldn’t fire you. I promise you, you could have asked for all my life’s savings and I would’ve gladly handed it over. I didn’t need that shit if I was destroying people’s lives every twenty minutes.”
You licked your lips as you digested this. You still knew so little about this man. He constantly surprised you.
“I tried to resist you. I tried my hardest. I demanded shit. But the more you rose to the occasion, the more turned on I got. I don’t want to treat you like a sex doll, but half my day is spent bricked up just trying to get back in between your legs.”
Your pussy throbbed at his words. He shattered your world with these confessions. A world you carefully built brick by brick. Once you figured out how to interact with someone, you placed them in boxes. Tre was firmly in the asshole box, but now you weren’t so sure.
“I just knew that the more I demanded, the more you’d get fed up and quit. So I could get you out of my system. I could get an ugly assistant and move on with my life. But then you kept calling me Sir, kept doing great work despite the typos and the lollygagging, and…I lost. I lost to you.”
He stared at you with a crippling intensity. “When I called you into my office to address the typos, I didn’t know what would happen when I spanked you. I was ready for you to call HR or the police. But I had to know what your ass felt like in my hands. When you let me continue, it was like an early Christmas present. I had to see what else I could get away with.”
He slowly walked around the kitchen, exiting it, and walking closer to you. Your eyes tracked his movements, unsure what to do or say.
“The more you let me get away with, the more I want to try more and do more. Everyone else be damned. I’m not into feelings. But it’s clear that you need it to feel settled about this. I don’t know where this is going. But I know that I feel possessive already. You’ve been mine since you started and when I see you talking to another man, I want to kick his teeth in.”
He got closer to you but didn’t close that final gap. You were close enough for his clean soap and airy scent to hit you. But far enough away that you’d have to lean to touch him.
“I want to spoil you. I want to treasure you. I want to bend you like a pretzel and see if you break,” he said.
A laugh escaped you but there wasn’t a damn thing funny about the way he was looking at you. “You know how wild that sounds, right?”
He smiled slowly and cocked his head. He was so deliciously sexy and being honest about his feelings was only turning you on more. The lingerie was a mistake. You were going to soak right through the little scrap of material and leave a puddle all over his nice, faux leather stools.
“What I don’t know is how you feel. You’re either running away or trying to end this. But when you’re underneath me, I feel like you could feel something for me.”
You bit your lip. Shit. You weren’t expecting honesty hour. Your throat turned parched and scratchy and you looked away from his face.
“You scare me,” you said. You peeked at him and the only thing that changed was a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t think you’ll hurt me in that way. I just feel like…this is what a well-adjusted adult looks like and that’s so not me. Like…you could have anyone you want. Why me?” You asked. You weren’t putting yourself down. You just knew you had to do a lot of work on yourself and no one was perfect.
“Why not you?”
You giggled nervously. “Why me?”
“Why not you?”
Right. Stubborn to the point of obstinate.
“I’m starting to think this is about control. Do you feel out of control with me?”
You rubbed your forehead. “What are you, a therapist or something?”
Tre smiled and rocked back on his heels. “I had an interesting childhood. I had to be an asshole to survive. My bull in a china shop routine isn’t going to get me anywhere with you. And if I haven’t made that clear, that is my goal.”
“I never know what you’re feeling. Sex makes all the sense in the world. We’re both trying to get off. And you feel amazing. You know you do. But…me…” Was it about control? Did you hate that he made you unsettled, unmoored, and guessing for the first time in your life?
You made it your mission to be prepared. To make up for your shortcomings. Your strength was in anticipating people’s needs and ensuring that you were as helpful as possible. To have someone like him trying to look after someone like you…it didn’t compute. He didn’t need anything. And you felt useless.
Tre waited patiently while you worked through your emotions. You hated that you couldn’t pluck them from your brain and explain it in a coherent way.
“I’m scared that you’ll get bored with me. That this novelty will wear off and you’ll be fine while I’m jobless and embarrassed,” you admitted. There. You got that out.
Tre nodded. “I will not get bored with you. There is no novelty. I just want you,” he said calmly and plainly.
“You say that now–”
“And I mean it now. I’ll mean it tomorrow and the day after that,” he said.
“You can’t make that promise,” you said.
Tre smiled. Obstinate.
“What can I do to help you trust me?” He asked. He opened his hands. “I want to get to know you better.”
“Patience. I need patience. You…consume. You take up the whole room when you’re in it. It doesn’t leave any room for thinking,” you said.
“Maybe you need to think less.” Tre walked back into the kitchen to check on the sauce. He turned off the stove and grabbed two bowls. He scooped pasta noodles into it and then ladled the sauce over it.
He placed a bowl in front of you and on the place setting next to you. He fluffed salad in a bowl and then plated it on a smaller plate, placing it next to your bowl. He had different options for salad dressing so you pointed to your favorite one. He put some on your salad, some on his, and then he poured you some wine.
He rounded the kitchen and sat down next to you. He pointed for you to go first. The pasta both looked and smelled heavenly. Restaurant quality. You dug in, grabbing a big bite. You moaned around the taste.
“Good god, this is delicious,” you said.
Tre smirked. “Been working on this sauce since last night,” he said.
“You knew you were going to invite me here last night?” You asked.
“Beyond the forest,” he said. He dug into his own food.
Conversation turned to lighter topics. He spoke briefly about that interesting childhood of his. He was rowdy, combative, getting into fights left and right. His estranged uncle stepped in, trying to be a father to him where his own wasn’t. Showed him how to “be a man”.
It was beyond gender. It was how you carried yourself. How you spoke, how you dressed, how you interacted with others. If you were the biggest in the room, then it was your responsibility to protect those in the room.
“That sounds impossible to live up to,” you said.
“Not when you really think about it. A man’s job is to protect those in his care. Cherish the people in his circle. To move with respect. It’s as easy as breathing,” Tre shrugged. “I know I’m an asshole but I’m not going to go out of my way to make someone else’s life miserable.”
“No, just mine.” You playfully rolled your eyes and Tre smirked.
You told him about your family and how you always felt like you weren’t doing things right. You couldn’t compare to your siblings with amazing jobs and their heads on straight. The only thing in your life that made sense was school.
After it, you just felt adrift. You flitted from one thing to the next, not knowing what you wanted to do with your life. It was dangerous to compare your life to others. But it felt like they knew exactly where they were headed. You on the other hand? You just wanted a fucking break.
“You’re not doing anything wrong. Everybody is different,” Tre said.
“No, I know. I just…I don’t know what I want to do.”
“What gets you up in the morning?”
“Money?” You giggled. When it came down to it, you wanted enough money to not have to agonize over your bank account week to week. To get money, you had to work for others. And you hated working for others. You hated being told what to do, what to wear, when to show up.
“That’s a fair motivator. But what do you not mind doing for money?” He asked.
You shrugged. “There lies the rub,” you said. You finished up dinner, not able to eat another single bite. It had been one of the best dinners you had ever had.
You and Tre moved over to the couch with your wine. You continued your conversation there, moving on to silly topics like video games and movies. You discussed the books you’ve read and he seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying.
This was a set up. He was seducing you. You eyed him over the rim of your wine glass as you listened to him speak about his favorite author. He had made no move to touch you. It was all you could think about.
You shifted and placed one leg under you as you faced him. He copied your stance. You paid attention to his lips as he spoke. The way his voice played with sounds. You paid attention to his hands when he wanted to emphasize certain points. Hands that you had first hand knowledge could wring pleasure from you like wringing out a washcloth.
“Are you okay?” Tre asked.
“Huh?” You asked and blinked. The wine was making you feel airy and light. A light buzz. You felt good. Really good. And he was looking more good as you cataloged his movements.
Tre smiled. “I asked you if you wanted more wine,” he said.
“No, thank you.” The hell did he put in it? Because you were burning the fuck up. And you couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you. His lips on yours. His dick sliding inside you.
You scooted closer to him and placed your wine glass on the coffee table. He drained his glass and scooted closer as well, until you were breathing the same air.
“Why haven’t you touched me?” You asked. The wine gave you a burst of boldness.
Tre smiled. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“Why haven’t you?”
“You can’t have it both ways. You either want patience or for me to steamroll ahead. I only work in absolutes,” he said.
You sighed. “Does that mean the sex stops?”
Tre chuckled. “Is that all I’m good for?”
“Will you stop answering my questions with questions?”
“Will you be honest with me?” Obstinate bastard.
“I want you to fuck me!” You squealed. You bit your lip after but didn’t take it back. He couldn’t get you feening for his touch and then yank it away when it was convenient for him.
Tre only watched you with an amused smile on his face. You wanted to smack it off of him.
“Tell me what you really want,” he said.
“I don’t want the sex to stop.” There, you said it. “I don’t want this to end. But you have to…let me adjust to it.”
He kept looking at you. “Do you want me to say I want you? Is that it?” You asked.
“Do you?”
You growled and Tre chuckled. “I want you,” you said.
Tre ran a finger across your jaw. He lifted your chin and leaned down for a soft kiss. “Show me you want me.”
You leaned back to look into his eyes. You should have known. Nothing about this man was easy.
You stood up and took the straps off your shoulders slowly. Tre adjusted his position to face forward as you moved to stand in front of him. You kept your eyes on his as you unzipped your dress and let it cascade down your body.
Tre hissed as he took in your lingerie set. “I buy that for you?”
“You did,” you said with a smile.
“Money well fuckin’ spent,” he said.
You stepped out of your dress and picked it up. You placed it on the couch so it wouldn’t wrinkle too badly. Then, you slowly sank to your knees in front of him, rubbing on his legs. You rubbed on his thighs, getting higher and higher. His pants began to tent as you got closer to the waistband. He didn’t help you as you unbuttoned his pants. You gripped his hard dick and moved the tip across your lips.
Precum painted your lips and you licked your lips around the tip of him. He took a deep breath, jaw flexing. You stared into his eyes as you slowly swallowed him down. You struggled to completely get him in your mouth, but soon you were drooling on his dick.
Tre adjusted his hips, pulling his pants down a bit more as you began to suck him down. Your hands gripped the rest of him and you rubbed his shaft while paying attention to the head of his dick. You licked and played with the velvety soft head of him, flicking your tongue across the tip.
He hissed and jerked as he moaned. He moved his arms to the back of the couch, relaxing into the blow job. You watched as he threw his head back so all you saw was his luscious beard. You bobbed your head faster, the way you knew he liked.
You were rewarded with his moans getting louder, deeper, with a rattle in his chest that had you clenching your thighs together.
“I’m about to bust,” he moaned.
You continued sucking him off, hollowing your cheeks. He tensed before he unloaded in your mouth. The salty musk of his cum splashed down your throat and you swallowed all of him down. You moaned and let him go with a wet pop.
Tre blew out a breath as he rubbed his face. “Thank you,” he said.
You smiled at him. His fingers traced the corners of your mouth where drool likely escaped you. You turned into a sex fiend where he was concerned.
“Get up here,” he said.
You stood up and moved to straddle his legs so you could finally get some dick. He shook his head, pointing towards the couch. He took off his glasses and put it on the coffee table. You laid down and Tre grabbed your ankle. He pushed it to the back of the couch, spreading you completely open for him.
His hand found the chain around your thigh and his eyes briefly flared looking at the tiny “T” dangling from it. He wrapped his hand around it while he brought his face down against your pussy.
He licked you over the fabric and you moaned, gyrating your hips against his face. He licked the crease of the set, capturing part of your skin and you shivered in the warm room.
“Please,” you whispered.
“Please, what?” He asked. His breath fanned over your damp pussy and you shivered again. You needed relief right this second.
“Please, Sir,” you begged.
He used his free hand to move your panties to the side and finally bring his lips to your pussy. He moaned when he discovered how wet you were and how much he got to lick up. You were dripping with your essence, right onto his face and the couch.
“Fuck,” you shuddered, the word shaky in your throat.
“Mhm, get louder for me. Just me and you here,” he whispered against your pussy. And then he really went to town, digging his face so far into your pussy, you felt the way his jaw flexed.
He was right. You were finally in an appropriate place to have sex. You could be as loud as you needed to be. You began to moan louder, encouraging him with a twist of your hips and roll of his tongue that he was eating you out exactly how you liked.
He paid more attention to your clit, sucking and slurping up your juices. You felt the burn in your thighs as you were nearing your peak. The tightening in your belly worsened until you were snapping your thighs together, screaming out your release.
Tre was right there to feel you cum on his tongue. He hummed in satisfaction as you shook against his face. When you calmed down, when your back came back down to rest on the blue couch, he straightened up. He had your juices trailing down his beard and he wiped a hand down the lower half of his jaw.
“Come on,” he said. He grabbed your hand and helped you sit up on the couch. Then, he headed towards the stairs.
The upstairs was just as well-decorated as the first floor. It was all a blur as he tugged you down the hall towards the master suite. You weren’t really surprised that his sheets and comforter were black. It suited him more so than the earthy tones throughout the rest of the house.
You moved to get on his bed, but he stopped you. He planted a wet kiss on your lips, taking his time to fully explore you. His hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you deeper into the kiss. The pressure on your neck made your eyes roll back in your head.
“Wait here,” he said. He placed one last kiss on your lips before moving away. You watched as he went into the bathroom.
You just came but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You wanted him. You wanted that dick between his legs to make you walk funny in the morning. Water turned on, sounded like the shower, and you wanted to walk in there to see what he was doing.
He came out of the bathroom, taking off his shirt. You gasped softly. Fuck. He was beautiful. You openly ogled his body. Thick, rippling muscles. A sexy layer of bulk that you could bounce a quarter off of.
He looked damn good in his suits. He looked damn good in casual wear. But shirtless? Your knees wobbled and you wondered if you were going to swoon.
He approached you slowly, like a predator stalking a prey. His hands reached out to run across your lingerie that suddenly felt too tight. He began to unsnap, kissing the parts of you that he revealed. Inch upon inch of you was uncovered, covered in his kisses.
He freed your breasts and rubbed sensation back into it. He plucked on your nipples and you moaned softly. “I need you to wear this again,” he said.
You giggled and turned in his arms so that you could face him. He bent down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth.
“Did you turn the shower on?” You asked.
“Mhm,” he moaned against your nipple.
You answered with a moan as well, biting your lip because it felt too damn good. “But…”
“I got a shower cap for you,” he said.
“There is no way I’m letting you fuck me with a shower cap on!” Oh god, how embarrassing.
“Do you think it would make you less sexy to me?” He straightened up and kissed you. “You are the sexiest creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. You could wear a sack and I’d want to fuck the coins out of you,” he continued.
You laughed, covering your mouth to keep from squawking like a chicken. Tre lowered your hands and looked into your eyes.
“I’m in it. Are you?”
Why couldn’t he make shit easy for once? You nodded. “I’m in it.”
He pulled you to the bathroom, leaving your lingerie on the floor. His bathroom was gorgeous. The floors were cream tile with big squares. He had plenty of rugs inside so you weren’t stepping on the cold floor for too long. He had a walk-in shower with clear glass doors. The sink was at a comfort height, two sinks, with soft gray towels hanging from a bar.
He had a long cabinet that stretched nearly to the ceiling and you longed to rub your hands over it. You only dreamed of bathrooms like these. You didn’t think they actually existed outside of supremely rich houses where they were wasted on people with no appreciation.
Steam filled the room, frosting over the glass doors and mirrors. Tre dropped his pants to the floor, picked them up, and threw them into a hamper you hadn’t seen. He handed you a shower cap.
You took a deep breath and put it on, tucking your hair inside. Welp, here you were in all your crazy glory.
He didn’t see you any differently. He pulled you in for a soft, tender kiss and then opened the shower door. You stepped inside and the warm water hit your back and you sighed. You usually liked it way hotter than this.
The devil himself needed to come out and lick your back in order for you to feel comfortable in a shower, but the point wasn’t to get clean at the moment. It was to get dirty.
You leaned forward, palming his dick and running your hands along his length. Tre moaned low in his throat before gripping your hips and pushing you against the wall of the shower. Your back hit the cold tile but you were saved by his warm, strong hands as they rubbed your back.
He rubbed his dick, getting slick from the water. He began to kiss you and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. The shower cap crinkled and you had a brief stab of embarrassment.
It quickly dissipated as Tre lifted you up. You squealed, wrapping your legs around his hips. He grinned evilly while you clung to him for dear life. He was doing a whole lot in this slippery ass shower.
Panic and arousal drove your nerves through the roof. You took deep breaths, trying to focus on the water on your side.
“I got you,” he said. He pushed your back against the wall and spread your legs to accommodate his hips. He shifted as his dick found your entrance. With the water and your arousal, he was able to slide in easily.
You groaned, your jaw dropping open. “Never get sick of that,” he said.
He placed one hand on the wall behind you to brace himself. Then, he set to work thrusting into your wet heat. He groaned as he started to slide easier due to fresh arousal leaking out of you.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned.
“Mhm, feelin’ so good on this dick,” he groaned.
Your thighs shook as he thrust into you slow and deep. He set a relaxed pace, making sure to get as deep as possible on every stroke. You felt every inch of him. Every last smooth glide of his mushroom head against your inner walls.
Your hands gripped his smooth, deep onyx skin. Water droplets hit his head, beard, and arms. You gripped the back of his neck and held on as he grunted and hit you deep enough to bruise. You cried out, cumming immediately on his dick.
“Fuck, let me feel it,” he said. He stopped moving as you convulsed on his dick, unable to form a sentence or thought. You squeezed the hell out of him, feeling incredibly full.
“You can give me another,” he said.
“I can’t,” you moaned.
“Yes, you can. You can give me another before I bust all in this pretty pussy,” he moaned.
“S-Sir!” You whined. You didn’t have another one in you. It was impossible. Your lips sloppily found his as his tongue mimicked what his dick was doing. Both speared inside of you and you moaned, thighs shaking, toes curling.
He grunted and moaned in your ear, whispering filthy things. “Come on, I know you can do it. I know you got another one. I know you want to cum all over this dick again. You know you want me to feel how good I tear this shit up.”
You cried, a wailing keen that sounded loud. It was amplified in the shower due to the tile. You sounded needy. You sounded desperate.
“Give me another one. Let that pussy go,” he cooed.
“Sir, Sir, Sir,” you chanted. Somehow, that dick was able to pull another one out of you. You screamed as you came, growing deaf in one ear. A high, tinny ringing pierced your ear as you came once more on his dick.
He moaned and kissed your ear. “That’s it. Don’t that feel better? You did so good. So good lettin’ me feel that pussy creamin’ on this dick,” he moaned.
“Sheeit,” you moaned.
Tre sighed and screamed out his climax, pumping you with thick spurts of cum. You shook and twitched as you felt him pulsing inside of you. He slipped out, letting you down to stand on wobbly legs.
He lifted your leg so he could watch himself slip out of you. “Sheit,” you moaned as you felt his cum leaking out.
Tre used his fingers to fuck some of it back inside you. You squealed and twitched. Your clit was entirely too sensitive. “I can’t,” you cried.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said. Not sounding the least bit sorry.
Who the hell was this man? You couldn’t figure him out. He cooked you dinner, ate you out, and delivered orgasms like some full service sex god. He unnerved you. He was an enigma. It was driving you crazy trying to puzzle him out.
Tre smirked as he grabbed a washcloth, soaped it up, and began to wash your body. His soap that you loved so much smelled even better up close and personal. He helped you flip over so he could get your back and ass. He was careful to clean your pussy, running the cloth back and forth over your clit.
You whined and shook as he did so and he planted kisses all over your face, enjoying your torment. Asshole. He helped rinse you off and then he stood under the shower. He grabbed a fresh washcloth and cleaned himself off.
You grew sleepy watching him soap up that sexy body of his. He watched you, smirking and throwing winks your way as he lowered the cloth to his dick. You watched with rapt attention.
You only wished you could suck him back down and make him scream and squirm like he had you doing. He rinsed off and then turned off the water. He left the shower first, grabbing thick, buttery towels. He wrapped one around his waist and then helped you out of the shower.
He wrapped the towel around your body and helped you to the room. He dried you off completely. He made sure every last droplet was wiped from you and then removed the shower crap. He fixed a few fly away hairs.
“Sexy,” he murmured.
You could only stare at him. You were out of your depth once more. Unable to sort through your emotions and give this a name. He leaned down for a kiss. His wet beard tickled your chin.
He lowered you into the bed and dried the rest of his body off. He peeled back the covers and let you slide in. You sighed. You felt so warm and comfortable. Tre slid in behind you, pulling your waist into his hips. His dick settled into the crook of your ass and he nuzzled into your neck.
“Night, beautiful.”
Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed
#Megaminds Secret Files#The Secret Tre Files#Tre x Black!reader#Tre x Black reader#x Black reader#Tre x Fem!reader#Tre x Fem reader#x Fem reader#Tre x plus size reader#Tre x Assistant!reader#Tre x Assistant reader#Candy Cane Lane fanfic#Candy Cane Lane fan fic#Candy Cane Lane fanfiction#Candy Cane Lane fan fiction#Trevante Rhodes fanfic#Trevante Rhodes fan fic#Trevante Rhodes fanfiction#Trevante Rhodes fan fiction#Trevante Rhodes smut
365 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stay With You
Pairings: Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader x Aldis Hodge
Word Count: 1652
Warnings: double penetration, hand job, cream pies
BBJ Masterlist
“Y’all when I said let's go camping, I was thinking something along the lines of smores, maybe even a cute lil bonfire,” I ranted. “But to be out here in natures ass crack, the possible meal of a grizzly bear is where I draw the line.
“Y/N, we’re in a makeshift tent in the backyard, I doubt a grizzly is making it this far into the city,” Aldis sighed.
“And if he does, we’ll hear him,” Trevante added.
“Was that supposed to make me feel better?”
“This is practice Y/N, you stay complaining like this on the real campsite and a grizzly will be the least of your worries.”
“Aldi, is that a threat?” I gasped.
“No, it’s a warning, so take heed.”
“Ohhh Aldiii, you giving out warnings now?” Trevante mocked.
Deadpanning Tre, I look over to Aldis to assess what the problem really is.
“Aldi, you know I don’t do the whole nature thing, but I’m legitimately trying FOR YOU."
“You ain’t gotta try if all you gone do is keep complaining,” he protested.
“I AM -“
“Hey hey hey y’all enough,” Tre interrupted. “Let's put a pin in it before one of us says something we can’t take back.
Always the peacemaker that one. Trevante is quite literally the definition of lover not a fighter, whereas Aldis on the other hand is my little hot head. We tend to clash from time to time, but we’re learning which buttons not to push.
He’s been begging us to go camping for a minute now and I finally gave in last weekend, opting to do this only if I could work my way up there. Tre is no more keen to do it than I am, but pushed those feelings to the side for all the times Aldis has been so willing to try something for us. I guess it didn’t help that I’ve been bitching since we crawled inside here.
Sighing, I apologized for my earlier whining and creeped over to his side of the tent to seal it with a kiss. He accepts it with a grumble, but the scowl on his face tells a different story.
“Baby, I am so sorry for not coming in here with an open mind and if you let me, I’ll have us all making noises a grizzly wouldn’t dare interrupt.”
I get a small smile in return, but it’s not the heart melting one I’m used to seeing.
“Please, forgive me and come morning I’ll fix your favorite breakfast.”
“There are no stoves in the woods,” Tre reminded.
“Right, well I’ll do whatever it takes to survive in nature,” I promised. “No soap, no toothpaste, just a knife and my killer instincts.”
A chorus of woahs follows from both men, Aldis urging me to relax, emphasizing the idea that living in nature surrenders the use of modern technology not hygiene.
“Yeah well I’ll stay clean ONLY if you forgive me,” I bargained.
Chuckling, he leans in and pecks me on the lips, formally forgiving my prior tantrum.
“Moving forward, I don’t wanna hear no lip and you’ll do exactly as I say,” he demanded.
Wrapping my arms around his neck I lean in for another kiss, mumbling a yes sir. Deepening it, I feel Tre’s palm run across my ass, caressing its curves in the softest way.
Aldis’ arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in closer as his lips run over mine, trailing down to my chin, my neck, and stopping just shy of my breast.
“Now, tell me more about those non interrupting grizzly noises,” he says through light pecks.
Shuffling off the floor Tre gets behind me, locking me in between them, sprinkling his fair share of kisses along my back in agreement with Aldis.
Turning so that my body faces forward, I rest my arms on the shoulder of each man; leaning firstly into Tre and then into Aldi to swap a little bit of spit.
“Well, for starters we’d need less clothes.“
“Like this shirt for instance,” Tre proposed as he tugged it off me.
“And these pants,” Aldis added, unbuckling them. “They don’t really serve much purpose do they?”
Shaking my head no, I help them shed the rest of the clothes by ridding myself of the remaining undergarments. Now in my birthday suit, I watch as each man's clothing finds itself in a pile next to mine.
Tongue slipping between teeth and over my lips, I can’t help the jolt of excitement that washes over me as I ready myself for both my men. Leaning over to Tre, I sink my teeth into his skin as I suck on his sweet spot, no doubt leaving a hickey - eager to mark him in the sexiest way.
He breathes out soft, shy pants and I reach down to grab his semi hard dick as I stroke it back and forth. Dribbles of precum ooze from the tip and I drag my thumb forward to smear it against his length, allowing me to jerk him off a little more smoothly.
Tilting over to my left, I lean into Aldis and dip my head into the firm arch of his shoulder blade, peppering his jaw in open mouth kisses; spots of saliva left behind after each one.
He then grabs my left breast, his mouth swirling around the hardened nipple as my head tips back at the delicious sensation, quiet mewling tumbling past my lips. Tre follows suit with my other breast, tweaking and kneading before taking the nipple into his warm mouth.
Hand gliding down Aldis’ lap, I stop at his girthy member, tracing over each thick vein while I softly run my hand over his nuts. Bringing my hand to my face, I spit in the palm and return it back to his length, this time stroking him with ease.
Breathy moans follow, but it comes out muffled around my nipple and I take this chance to speed up in pace on both men, hoping to see their creamy finish.
“Tell me how good this feels,” I whimpered. “Matter of fact, cum for me so I know it’s real.”
Heated lips run along my skin, tongues leaving wet trails in their paths while hands get entangled with limbs and moans get engulfed into the noiseless night. My body feels hot with desire, eyelids fluttering closed, and mouth ajar, I couldn’t tell who was doing what but my movements never ceased; eager to bring my men over the edge.
Their heavy breathing becomes more erratic, my cooing and encouragement having them spill onto me as my hands come to a slow stop and I lick each fist clean.
Grabbing the back of my neck, Aldis pulls me in for a kiss, thumbs spreading my lips open to taste himself. Pulling away, I turn over to Tre and dive in for another round of tongue twisting, saliva trailing down our chins as we pull apart.
“On all fours Y/N, you know wassup,” Aldi directed.
“Yes sirrrr, Tre you on the bottom baby?”
“I’m wherever you want me,” he winked.
Lying down on his back, he helps position me on top of him, dick in hand as he watches me slowly slide down his length. A heavy gasp leaves us both at the heated feeling of being connected. After we adjust, he gives me a lazy smile, mouthing a quick I love you to which I eagerly return it.
“Ready for me angel?”
“Go for it Aldi.”
“I’ll be your genie, Y/N, every fucking day if you let me,” he confides, smearing his cum between my ass.
“Your every wish would be my command,” he continued, entering first with his finger.
“You’re my beacon of light honey,” he insisted, adding in another digit. “In an otherwise bleak and cruel world.”
“You both reassure me that all is not lost,” he chanted, driving his fingers into me, the pace deliciously unwavering.
“Y’all have given me the joy to call you guys family,” he admitted, removing his fingers entirely.
“But this ass? Oh this ass Y/N is what I can call home,” Aldis ended as he thrusted to the hilt.
No matter how many times he’s entered my backdoor, I can never get used to his sheer size. He always knocks the wind out of me and I find myself planted face first into Tre’s chest, his hands cradling my jaws as I seep back into reality. Sweet nothings are whispered into my ear but it’s the driving force of their dicks that fully reels me into the present.
“There she is,” Tre snickered. “I got you baby girl, don’t you worry.”
I barely recognize the sounds coming from me, my words now indecipherable, cockdrunk and drooling as they tear me apart. Aldis wraps his hand around my throat, drawing me in to plaster my lips with sloppy kisses while Tre takes a hold of my waist to drive his dick further into me, my pussy stretched around his dick as his tongue explores the shape of my neck.
My fingers are embedded into skin, whose I don’t know, but the crescent shaped marks will reveal it sooner or later. Tongue sliding against Aldis’ while Tre’s fingers dance every which way across my waist and thighs, I can’t help the howl that escapes me; grizzly bear be damned, my body feels worked over past its limits.
The peak that I hit seems never ending, my soul paralyzed and heartbeat accelerating, while everything around me ceases to exist. I come down just in time enough to feel them splatter my walls simultaneously which elicits a minigasm of my own.
Loud, labored panting is all that I hear. Rough, calloused hands is all that I feel. Navy blue sky littered with twinkling stars is the view that meets me and I must admit that camping isn’t so bad after all.
#Emmy Writes#Emmy Tries#My Drabbles#Black Boy Joy#Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader#Trevante Rhodes x Black!Fem!Reader#Trevante Rhodes#Aldis Hodge x Black Reader#Aldis Hodge x Black!Fem!Reader#Aldis Hodge#Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader x Aldis Hodge#Trevante Rhodes x Black!Fem!Reader x Aldis Hodge#Black Reader#Black!Fem!Reader#3 some tings#why am I like this lmfao
199 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ticking Springs
(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)
Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ
capitolo uno
here is: capitolo due
capitolo tre
capitolo quattro
capitolo cinque
capitolo sei
capitolo sette
Capitolo otto
Capitolo nove
Capitolo dieci
Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ
It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.
Tag list:
@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites
TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occurr in time
TW here are: Geppetto being motivating and discouraging, anxious reader, mysoginy?, a boy is calling girls stupid
The sun had shown her face seldomly on Krat this morning.
Gepetto laughed at his own thought as he stretched. Already clothed for the day with his usual white shirt, reddish-brown vest and striped pants, he went over his usual routine. His old legs carried him over from the bedroom, to the kitchen and straight to his office without hesitation – yet this morning he halted and leaned back at the sight he was seeing.
He observed silently before sucking in a breath. “I doubt you got a good night’s sleep, yet judging from your work on the butlers,” His head nodded as he eyed the two automated puppets standing as still and tall as candles with toothy, almost cartoon-y smiles. Their teeth, though exaggerated to radiate an ridicouless amount of politeness, shown so brightly it was an almost uplifting sight. The black suits that adorned their mechanical forms were mended and ironed and the paint redone before they were even put in their new clothes. Their eyes and brows, tailored after the customer’s request, almost looked real – warm and inviting even though all their purpose was to serve and obey to noble families at home.
Nobody would truly care whether or not their puppet butlers were physically pleasing to look at – that’s what Geppetto believed as he introduced them to the Workshop Union so many years ago though his marketer colleagues quickly proved how delighted so many families would become. From the wife to the children, to the busy family head that would return home and would greet the puppet first. He himself had grown fond of them and was glad that he let his creative side show when creating puppets personifying entertainment.
“…You were as busy as a bee, dear.” You couldn’t help but turn your head and smile at him, your eyes shining as bright as a star to him. “Thank you, Uncle.” You say, “But this doesn’t prove itself difficult anymore. I believe I’ve learned a lot.” Your eyes would flicker between the puppets and him. Geppetto nodded in return. “Seems like you have. You always had a talent for the art.” “It always impressed me, Uncle. I honestly never thought you’d ever take me in as your apprentice when I was younger.”
His smile broke for a moment before he replaced with pressed lips. He took a breath before looking at you again. “…I always hoped this craft would be staying in the family. Or at least, be carried by it with interest. Your father was never too keen on it as I was and am.”
You nodded along, knowing of his intentions. It was no secret to you either that your old man never showed interest, even in your younger days. Geppetto continued, sounding higher, “But you do, dear. And that is gift enough.” Leaning back, the man took a sip of his warm coffee. “Still, I wasn’t sure to take you in. You’re young and inexperienced compared to most people of Krat.”
“I can learn.” You intervened yet with another smile. “I have so far, haven’t I?” You turn back to gesture to the two butler puppets, their appearance almost as good as new – impeccable if Geppetto didn’t know that they were once broken. Malfunctioning one and two times too much until they tumbled down the stairs with all the trays of wine and juice tainting them and their system.
The older man nodded as he swallowed his drink. “I will not lie. Still, they’ll have to be looked at by me first before anyone else in the public can even see them.”
Your breath hitched slightly in your throat as Geppetto put away his coffee and started a puppet up. Taking a step back, your hands fiddled in a closed position. “I…” You began but felt your mouth too dry for any words and as the springs reacted and ticked, any chance at expressing yourself was out the window.
With a swung, the butler stood straight, its head crooked to the side. The arm bent to a sharp 90°degree, the fingers twitched as if longing to hold a wine glass. As flawless as its toothy smile was, it could barely open its jaw. “Good morning to you, Sir. How ma-may I s-se-serve – serve-“
It tried to repeat its sentence again but could only manage buzzing noise. You winced at the high pitch.
“…The coats and paint are no problem,” You gingerly stepped closer, “…but I…I am afraid I still need some time, and, and lessons on how to repair and set the voice box…and maybe repair the automation…” Your voice grew quieter. Geppetto stood up without a word.
“…You are getting there.” He dusted his vest off, “But do not dive with your head first in. It’s early, go fetch us some fresh bread.” Clumsily you agreed and quickly shut off the puppet. Carefully setting it aside, you could glance from the corner of your eye Uncle leaving the room with his cold coffee in hand.
The door was closed shut with one hand as the other arm tunneled into the sleeve of your old jacket. Skipping over the puddles from last night, you patted yourself down on the way to the bakery. While the road was a skip away, you still hurried over and found yourself glad to be early enough for no other customers to be in there.
The small bell rang as you opened and closed the glass door again and were quickly greeted by the cabinet displaying various loafs. It always surprised you how much variety a bakery as this one offers and had to keep yourself from buying the delicious-looking buns always as well. You had to spend your pocket money wisely here in Krat.
Your eyes scanned the assortment and unwittingly caught your reflection in the glass cabinet. Hair untidy and bags unfortunately showing under your eyes – it left you a bit annoyed yet ashamed that someone like you already managed to look like a mess in the morning – and even more unfortunate was it that the good baker had already spotted you.
“Morning to you, young lady!”
Turning to the voice, your thinly pressed lips turned upwards. “How may I serve you today?” The mechanical replica of a baker’s hat first feigned to fall – before it was quickly set up on round tin. The puppet had a set of extra rosy and round cheeks that suited his crinkled eyes and bright smile. It fit the picture-book image of a kind baker and you noted that this model seemed to have a wavy mustache alongside a yellow-striped apron.
You couldn’t hold back your giggle as you pointed at your order. With another gleeful and automated response, the tray under the loaves moved akin to an assembly line and the baker puppet took each bread and packed them full of vim and vigor.
The ribbon tied to the paper bag was impeccable as expected. And charming as well, to you at least.
Yet as your eyes fell to the register as you handed the money, another round of irregular footsteps entered the small room. Hurrying from around the corner came yet another figure, made out of flesh and bone as her green eyes darted over to you. She strode forward to the puppet and your shoulders fell. “Four sixty-five, was it not?” Adjusting her glasses, her gaze went up from the goods in your arms to the puppet and back to the register. She tucked a strand hair behind her ear. “So sorry for the interruption, this fella once miscalculated the price of the Ciabatta and, well…” Trailing off, she opened the register herself, took the money out the puppet’s palm forcefully before handing you back the change. “This all, right? The usual?”
Her low tone snapped you back from your trance. “Oh!” You let out and stuck the money back into your pocket, “Oh, yes. Yes, it is, I think. For breakfast.”
“You buy that often, don’t you? For the past month now or so?” Her low voice grew as she shifted her weight to the side, her blue apron swinging as she rested her hand to her hips. She watched you carefully as she waited for an answer.
The baker girl could see your eyes darting to the bread. “Oh, I suppose so. A month now, has it been that long?” You stuttered out and finished with a strained laugh. “Felt short to me.”
“You’re not from here.” Finally, she cracked a sneaky smile, “I can tell.” “Oh,” Again, you laugh as you eye the paper bag. “I am not…you got me.”
Quickly you gazed back to the still and smiling puppet. “The good baker here just served me most of the time…I never noticed any miscalculations or getting less change.” Lips quirking upwards briefly, you looked back to the girl. “I would have said something as well if I got too much change, of course.”
“No worries, I’m sure you’d do. Good ol’ Panetti just started getting math wrong…I have to confess there was a wee accident with flour and water a few days ago.” She gave him a few good pats on his shoulder, the metal resounding, “We’d have to send him to the Workshop Union soon or else I’ll come strolling down every time he deals with a customer.”
“Such things are easy to readjust.” You spoke up, “It’s just to rearrange the number system and have him test out a few math problems. As if he was a school boy.”
As she cocked a brow, you inhaled sharply and licked your lips.
With a quick nod, you stepped towards the exit. “Why, anyway, I must head back. Uncle is waiting for his favorite loaves and I’d best deliver while they are warm.” A fast excuse and you were half-way through the door, holding it open with one foot. Thankfully it was the puppet that approached and held the door open for you. The tiny bell resounded again.
A chuckle was heard shortly after and you turned back to see the girl waving at you. “We are looking forward to your patronage again, good puppet maker!”
Your heart jumped at the title. Yet you could not decipher if it was out of anxiety or excitement.
Yet before your lips could quirk up, a small force bumped into your side.
Looking down, you were met with furrowed, dark eyes glancing up to you before snapping to the voice behind. “Roberto!” A woman called out. “Roberto, I told you to take your sister with you!”
As the young boy’s eyes and yours followed to where she was pointing, both of you saw an even smaller, younger little girl struggling to keep up. The weight of the doll that was half her size kept her back but with the way she fiddled and played with its dark curls, you could deduce that she insisted on taking it with her.
“Roberto!”
“I know, Ma!”
The boy suddenly and vehemently shouted out, you couldn’t help but startle. Those dark eyes that seemed simply brooding when on you, were now actively in a glare at his mother and sister.
“I told you though, I don’t wanna! Girls are stupid!”
Instead of quirking up in a nervous smile, your mouth was pressed into a thin line and your glare mimicked the boy’s. He noticed and let out a much softer ‘Sorry, miss.’ before begrudgingly waving his younger sister to follow. Without another glance, you marched back to the workshop.
The latest event left a sour taste in your mouth.
You tried to hide it when entering the kitchen, Geppetto raising a brow as he prepared you two cups of coffee.
when you wanna post the yandere but have to establish setting and characters first
#lies of p#yandere lies of p#lies of p x reader#lies of p pinocchio#bro why do i have so many scenes for character establishment in my head#BUT NOT FOR THE ACTUAL YANDERE I CREATED THIS FOR#part of me just wants to go wooosh with the plot#but it also has to be nice :( when not nice why write?#pinocchio x reader#yandere pinocchio x reader#fem!reader#pinocchio#can u tell i threw the three italian words i know into this haha#ticking springs
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yours to Claim
◥ PAIRING: Sub!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader; Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
◥ SUMMARY: To prove his trust in you, Patrick has decided to give you absolute control over him. Only to find out how needy he can be.
◥ WARNINGS: NSFW │porn with feelings, handcuffs, oral (both receiving), face sitting, anal fingering, body worship, cum eating/play, handjobs, masturbation, teasing, edging (kinda), vaginal sex, reversed cowgirl sex position, a lot of creampie, nipple play/tits sucking, Daddy kink, Praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, touch starved baby Patty himself.
◥ WORDCOUNT: 3.3k
◥ SONG REC: Trevor Something - Lovesong🥵
◥ A/N: This song is everything, it makes things to me, so I highly recommend you listen to this song while reading! Many thanks to my dear @tres-spades-hotel for proofreading! 🥰
Hope you like it! *hugs*
◥ LINKS: [Sweet like a Cupcake Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]
A sweet scent of aroma candle hit your nose once you entered Patrick’s bedroom, it was enveloping you like a mist, and you couldn’t help but exclaim:
“Can’t believe you are using them.” You kept looking at the candle on his bed table. “I thought you didn’t like my gift … you always don’t.”
Bateman only chuckled, strolling around his bedroom. Soon, you watched him stand near the window as he was definitely reflecting on something. Now, you were pretty sure that his weird behavior was not just your suspicion.
“I really love it, these candles seem to have a relaxing effect,” he smirked, in his casual arrogant way, so sexy and so Patrick. “Cupcake, I have something for you too.”
After saying that, he quickly reached into his bed table and took out two pairs of black leather handcuffs. From seeing them, your heart almost stopped beating.
“W-what are you going to do with that?”
His mysterious laughing only made you even more nervous. “It’s not for you, silly. It’s for me.”
Frowning, you gave him a confused look, stepping backwards slightly.
“Do you remember our talk about trust and control?” Bateman muttered, coming closer with a cocky grin on his face.
“Yes, I do.”
“Good.” Still sneering, Patrick stood face to face with you, fumbling with the handcuffs in his hands. “You probably can’t trust me after all the things that happened.” He pressed a palm against your cheek, and you closed your eyes from the delightful feeling of the warmth his skin was radiating. “And it’s reasonable … but I trust you, because I believe you won’t do me any harm. Am I right, honey?”
You nearly purred from the pleasant sensation as he stroked your chin and you nuzzled against his gentle fingers. “Mmm, yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl,” Bateman mused before leaning down to leave a passionate kiss on your lips, impelling you to whimper against his mouth as his wet tongue was sliding against yours. “Never in my life have I allowed anyone to do this to me. I want you to know that … besides, you always wanted to have some control over me, huh?”
“Why do you think so?” Panting, you let him press you against his firm body and when he did so, you immediately felt how hard he was, so stony, damn it. “Maybe it’s one of your sneaky tricks?”
“Uh, Cupcake … sometimes you love to struggle, right? You love to be a brat.”
You didn’t even notice being pressed against the doorway to his bedroom; his dark brown eyes were looking right through you, as if they were searching for your hidden, dirty desires. “Now, do you need my help to undress?”
With a cunning smirk, you glided a finger across his sharp cheekbone, crooning: “No, Daddy … if this time I’m in charge here, I want to watch you undressing first.”
Some kind of a muffled groan escaped Patrick’s lips, which were suddenly dry from a high level of arousal. “Mmm, you’re such a tricky little foxy. I like that.”
Breathing sharply, Bateman licked your lips and moved away to his bed as he started to undo his clothes. The way he was doing it was permeated with a pure arrogance and self-confidence, which was not surprising at all, because his body was just a piece of art.
Mesmerized, you watched him remove his suspenders, and unbutton his blue shirt, not breaking eye contact with you. You gasped, as your ravenous gaze was roaming all around his solid torso, his perfect relief was forcing your blood to rush faster in your veins.
“You like that?” He suddenly asked, slowly removing his pants. Obviously, he was expecting your praises.
“Yes, Patrick.” You bit your lower lip, your hands were clutching the thin fabric of your dress. “Can’t wait to touch you, Daddy …”
"Mmm," he growled, and oh God, he sounded so good, so hot. You almost started shaking when you heard him make that noise. When he was down to his Calvin Klein boxers, he sat on the edge of his bed and beckoned you over. "Maybe you can help me with this?" Bateman pointed at his underwear, cupping his groin and rubbing his rock hard dick.
“Maybe,” you gasped and finally moved to his bed. “But first, let me put your suit somewhere safe, I don’t want to listen to your rants about spoiling your expensive clothes.”
Patrick froze in a shock, a pleasant shock, as he watched you take his suit and walk into his living room. He didn't say anything, so you just put his clothes on the back of his white couch, panting heavily and trying your best to calm down - your heart was beating so fast it was probably going to break your chest. You couldn't really believe it was happening … and the thing that frightened you the most was that the feeling of being in control of him turned you on so much. Closing your eyes for a moment, you admitted that helping him with his clothes was an excuse to run away from the bedroom to catch your breath.
"Baby?" His slightly annoyed voice brought you back to reality, so you quickly took off your dress, leaving only the sexy black lingerie he bought you a few days ago.
“I was busy undressing myself.” With a shaky voice, you leaned against the doorway, admiring the view of his muscular body. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
“Yes, dear.” He tapped the place next to him. “I’m yours to claim.”
Was he actually bluffing to cloud your mind? You couldn’t think about it anyway, as you stepped in his direction, spellbound.
With a slight push, you forced him to lay flat on his back before you got on top of him, petting his tiddies here and there, making his breath heavier. Nervously, you grabbed the handcuffs and insisted:
"Put your hands up, Patty.” You watched him obey and in response you moved your hips, grinding against the arching bulge in his boxers, coaxing a low gasp to fall from his kissable lips. “Mmm-D-Daddy, you’re so needy, I can feel it…”
“Yes, Cupcake.” He tensed under your touch when you cuffed his hands above his head – he certainly didn’t feel comfortable not being in control, because it was making him so vulnerable. But Bateman tried his best to hide it. “You think that’s tight enough?”
“I’m sure.” You cupped his beautiful face and teased him as you drew near to his lips in order to kiss him. At the very last second, you broke away, not giving him a chance. “Keep your legs together.”
Though the handcuffs looked durable you doubted that they would stop him if he got really savage, according to how strong he was. When you finished cuffing him, you looked into his eyes, watching his lips tick – he definitely wanted to say something, something mocking or triggering, but he didn’t.
“Look at you, Daddy.” You slid your palms against his bare chest down to his abs, and then you finally touched his engorged cock, massaging it ever so lightly. “So exposed and cute … mmm–you want me to remove them, right?”
“Ahrgh-yeah.”
It seemed like he was about to crest his high at any second, as you felt his dick twitching in your grasp and you couldn't stop yourself from bowing down to his groin to suck his long shaft through the expensive fabric of his boxers.
“C’mon, pull them down already.”
“Not so fast, Patrick.” You smiled at him, giving his cock a long lick and when you heard him moaning louder, you decided to spare his torments, slowly dragging down his underwear to free his fully erected dick. “Gosh, it’s so big … mmm.” there was no way to resist as you got down and took his leaking tip inside your mouth, swallowing his sweet pre-cum with the whimper of pleasure.
“F-fuck.” He started to fidget around his perfect white sheets whilst his cheeks became notably flushed. “C-Cupcake…”
“You taste so delicious, Daddy…” you mewled before cupping his ass to shove his cock deep inside your throat, that set him completely on fire, his balls tensed intensively so you had to stop your ravenous attack. You didn’t want him to cum yet. “Mmhm-does it feel good?”
Huffing, he nuzzled against the pillows to brush away his already sweated locks. “Too good, baby… go on.”
“Uh, uh,” you refused and teased him again, rubbing against his glistening dick, making your lingerie so wet with the mix of liquids and spreading it along his pubis. “You have no say in that, Daddy …” You continued to roll your hips against his manhood, not pushing too hard, and bent down to his face to help him with his messy hair. As you did so, Patrick tried to reach your lips to plant a kiss on them, but you pulled away and pressed a finger to his mouth, which he obediently took in, sucking it and tasting himself.
Shit, this was turning you on so much, you didn't even realize you were about to fall over the edge, just watching him desperately suckle your finger with his eyes closed and his brows knit together from tension.
"Ahh, you look beautiful when you're so needy," you mused from above as you took your finger out and removed your bra. When you pulled down your panties, Bateman couldn't take his eyes off your dripping pussy as his mouth began to water uncontrollably.
"Let me taste you," he huffed, watching you touch yourself with light strokes. "I'm going to make you feel so good, b-baby." His voice wavered with a carnal urge to touch you, he wanted to tear you apart right here, but now he could only submit, it was his idea after all. "Cupcake, please ... sit on my face."
"Mmm, Daddy, you want this?" You raised yourself up a little to give him a better view of your blushing cunt as you spread your legs wider and rubbed your clit to taunt him even more. "Maybe you just want to watch me touch myself? You always love that ..."
"Jesus." Patrick slumped his head down on the pillow as he couldn't just look at you anymore, his stony cock jerking constantly, especially when you 'accidentally' brushed against it. "Baby, I'm so f-f-fucking close ..."
“I k-know, Daddy.”
“Mmm-hmm, please!”
"Please what?" you repeated, shaking with the impending rapture as you continued to stroke your sensitive little nub, slipping along his thick shaft and watching him writhe beneath you. "Do you want me to make you cum or ... do you w-want to have a taste of me?"
Bateman let out a guttural sound from the friction of your soaked pussy sliding against his beefy shaft. "I ... I want both ..."
"Choose one, Daddy ... and ask me nicely." You gave him the illusion of a choice, but in your mind you already had a plan for what you were going to do next.
"I ... I beg you, mm-ahhg, holy fuck!" He almost screamed as you sat backwards so he could now see your tight hot pussy right in front of his eyes as you sucked his throbbing cock really vigorously and played with his heavy sac.
Almost choking, Patrick tried to get closer to your cunt to at least lick your folds, but as soon as you felt his hot breath, you distanced from him, setting the pace of your bobbing and stroking his full length with both hands, while your juices were almost dropping down on his face.
That was too much, even for a man like him.
“F-fuck…aahh-fuck, (Y/N)!” Bateman was moaning shamelessly, withering around his big bed as if he was lying on burning coals.
“Mmhm,” you wailed around his fat girth, making obscene wet sounds each time his cock was slipping inside your mouth but once you felt him shaking, you quickly pulled his dick out and knelt beside him, letting him cum all over his perfect stomach. “Yes, Daddy … mm-gimme your cum.” You spurred him to tremble even more as you pushed two fingers into his tight asshole, massaging his prostate and prolonging his vivid orgasm.
“S-shit …” He hissed, still quivering and loading his hot seed to the last drop.
“Good boy,” you whispered and caressed his face, leaning down to smear his cum around his brawny torso, licking it off from your digits and closing your eyes in delight. “Gosh … It’s so tasty.”
With that said, you grinded against his pubis once more to get covered with his warm fluid before you lifted yourself up a bit and towered over his extremely blushing face. Patrick was breathing so hard that you even started to worry, but when he opened his hazel eyes and saw your pretty little pussy, he gave you a look full of desperation and need that left you almost speechless.
Arching your back, you lowered yourself a little and let his extremely wet tongue brush against your very sensitive clit - you moaned immediately, almost falling on his face, but you managed to balance yourself, controlling the distance between your pussy and his greedy mouth.
“Cupcake,” Bateman murmured and made a few little kitten licks along your folds. “Fuck, I will make you cum so hard, you will drown my face in your sweet flavor … if you let me.”
Damn, he was always saying the right words, which were driving you crazy. Moaning, you slowly straddled his gorgeous face and as soon your hips hugged his head, Patrick latched to your cunt like a starving man as he was literally devouring you like his life was dependent on it.
“Aa-aww, Patrick, mmm-I’m about to cum, aahh!” You squeaked, clinging to the ledge in the wall over his bed. “Yes, yes … eat my pussy like a good D-daddy you are, aah …”
These candles didn’t just have a soothing effect, but an aphrodisiac one as well; you couldn’t control your body as your mind was completely dazed. The only thing that was important right now – his heated tongue fucking you from below.
Your climax washed over you like a fucking tsunami, forcing your toes to curl almost painfully as your whole body rocked erratically, but it only caused him to slurp at your cunt even more eagerly, Patrick was shaking his head to rub his nose against your pulsating, swollen tip.
"Mmm-mhh, Pat-" You froze in a silent shriek, squeezing his head between your legs and rubbing against his face to prolong your fierce orgasm, fearing you might even break his nose if your humping became too intense.
But Bateman only moaned against your lower lips, drinking in all of your delicious wetness, clinging to your pussy so tightly you thought he wouldn't ever let you go.
Nearly sobbing, you got up from his abused face, leaving him completely breathless but satisfied, as Patrick couldn't stop smiling smugly, looking at you from under his eyelashes … God, his completely dazed look nearly made you cum again.
Sudden exhaustion hit you hard, but you wanted to continue this spicy game as you didn't know when you would have another chance to control this delicious man.
“Uh, Jesus …” Bateman muffled, fidgeting beneath you from uncomfortableness. “I think I can do it forever, your luscious pussy tastes so amazing.”
You just grinned in response, bending down to his face and pressing him against your boobs, rubbing them against him. Almost immediately Patrick started to wiggle his head, trying to catch one of your taut nipples, but you didn't let him as you watched him stretch his neck as far as it would go.
“My pussy was not enough? Such a starved, needy boy.”
“I’ll never get enough of you, baby.” He licked his lips briefly, his eyes were fixated on your hard peaks, and his chin was so fucking sleek, it was literally glistering like it was oiled. “Never …”
"Oh, is that so?" You let him take one of your nipples and he moaned in pleasure, sucking it like a baby, causing your throat to tighten with a loud whimper.
“Mmm, yes …” He was literally wild, consuming your hot flesh with a squelching sound and making your legs shake again. Panting, you turn around to wrap your hand around his already hard cock, and it seemed like he hadn't cum at all.
"You want me to fuck you, Daddy? So you can cream my little hole?" You provoked him by pulling away from his face.
Tightening his hands, Patrick pulled desperately at the handcuffs, but he was already too tired to wrestle, so he just pushed his hips up against yours, making his answer pretty clear. "Do whatever you want with me, Cupcake."
His voice was all that mattered to you at that moment as you suddenly pressed your lips to his, feeling the cocktail of different liquids on them and kissing him harder than you had planned, but he answered with no less effort. And then you stuck out your tongue, and without a word, Bateman took it into his mouth and sucked it obediently.
"You're such a good Daddy, so good." You stroked his cheek before turning around and bending over so he could see your pretty butt and pussy. "You always take good care of me ... and now I'm going to take care of you."
Grinning, you looked at him from behind, his thick dick buried in your overstimulated womb. Fuck, his was so big, every time you had sex you had to adjust to its size, but today you couldn't wait to embrace the feeling of being so full. So you took him as far as you could, spreading your legs to give him a proper look at how your feverish pussy struggled to encircle his beefy girth.
“Aaah, Daddy … mmm, it feels so good!”
“Mmm, fuck … oh shit, babe, your pussy clenching around me so tightly, aah-fuck,” Patrick moaned even louder than you, watching his dick slipping in and out of your moist cunt with wet shameless sounds as you were bounsing on his hips, with your back to his face.
The friction was too intense. You doubted you could last long, even without stimulating your clit, just hearing his loud whimpers was enough to make your next orgasm settle in your womb. Mewling, you had to bend over and hold on to his ankles for support as you rode him really hard, almost rough, not to mention his thrusting firm hips that he couldn't use at full power since he was cuffed, but he couldn't just lie still.
"Ahh, Pat-Patrick ... I love the sounds you are making! Moan louder!" you blurted out, feeling yourself almost numb and fucking him deeper; you could feel every vein on his huge cock twitching in ecstasy.
"(Y/N), you will be ... the fucking death of me, oh GOD." He wanted to slap your ass, he wanted to squeeze your fucking neck and make you choke, but instead he was watching you bob up and down on his creamy cock. "Mmmhm-fuck, yes ... encase my dick with your pussy, fuck yes ..."
Those were the last words you heard as you pressed against the spot between his spread legs, shaking so badly you couldn't even utter a sound, your saliva running down your chin as your inner walls continued to spasm. With all the strength you had left, you continued to impale yourself on his cock, and the next second you felt him pumping you with his hot cum, making you so fucking full that it even poured out of your pussy and floated down his dick and his used balls.
A white veil soon covered your vision and you couldn't even remember if you had released Patrick or not, along with the things that happened next, as a feeling of total insanity took all your thoughts away. It consumed you like a tornado, leaving nothing but the nasty sounds of your bodies slapping against each other and your pitiful high-pitched cries as you seemed to accept your fate and let the beast tear you apart.
There could be no mercy, when it came to Patrick Bateman.
#american psycho#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x female reader#patrick bateman x you#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x you#slasher smut#patrick bateman smut#patrick bateman headcanon#christian bale smut#christian bale x reader#patrick bateman reader
468 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (fem) x Midoriya Izuku.
WARNINGS: TRIO RELATIONSHIP, adult sexual content, angst and fluff, penetrative sex, oral sex, unprotected sex (USE GLOBOS, GUYS, preferably, pink ones lol😉), yandere themes –toxic/possessive behavior, mention of blood and violence, swearing lots of it thanks to bakugou lol
Summary: After several disasters that happened around the country, the government had no other choice but to enact a new law that would mostly shock every single person, including heroes.
"Please, please…Order in the room! I know," he says to someone that it's asking something but it's mostly impossible to actually understand for viewers like you who are not–were not present at the conference. "But, please, believe me when I say we have exhausted every possibility there is for this. This law was our very last resource."
By the tired tone in this man's voice and expression, you believe him. And you hate that you do, because that means you have no other choice. No one does.
A/N: lol this is a monster chapter, 5+k, you have been warned ✌🏼🙈 enjoy🤍
Chapter Two: Donde comen dos, comen tres.
This is it, you thought, taking a deep breath before your hand grabs the doorknob. This was the door of a new beginning, a new life that even though it was not of your choosing, you'll have to live and make it work. Behind those doors were the person you would have to share a life with, or at least try to, considering you were about to create a new little being together.
That thought made you smile. You really haven't considered being a mom, but you haven't disregarded the thought either.
You finally open the door, but what greets you behind is a scenery you were not expecting nor prepared for.
Mr. Takashi, the governor representative the letter said was in charge of your contracts, was standing behind a desk, where in front of it three chairs were positioned one next to the other and two of them were already occupied. The two men sitting turn around when you open the door, and you never hated being the center of attention more in your life.
You take a step back to look again at the number in the door; 705. The same number the letter said you were expected on that day.
"Did-... Sorry, did I get the right room?" You ask, still perplexed by how many people are in this little room.
"Yes. Yes, you did, Miss Y/L/N."
The cogs start to whirl in your head and it doesn't take a minute for you to understand what this means.
The two of them. These two men are going to marry you.
You gulp as you walk towards the unused chair and sit there stiffly and dropping your bag next to you on the floor, hands holding each other strongly over your lap almost to the point where your fingers turn white thanks to the strength. The silence is piercing and so tense it can definitely be cut with a knife.
You take another deep breath and look up, Mr. Takashi is smiling at you with a smile that only makes a cold chill run down your back, so you look elsewhere. That elsewhere turns out to be the other two people present and sitting at your right.
The man sitting next to you has greenish hair; actually it looks more like black with green highlights. Because of the distance, you can also see the many freckles over his nose and high cheekbones. His face suddenly looks kind of familiar. A Hero maybe? You weren't that into them to know, but Tora would probably know for sure. He slightly smiles at you and nods in greeting. You nod too, realizing how disgustingly cute this man is.
The man sitting next to this disgustingly cute human being is blond, his arms are crossed over his chest and he looks at you like you're an annoying gum stuck under his feet. That surprises you a bit, but when your eyes find his vermillion ones you can clearly see how unease he is with all of this, so you decide not to take it personal.
The both of them are big; buffy, strong men that clearly hit the gym at least five days a week, if not more. You hope they are not the superficial type.
You hear as Mr. Takashi moves papers and more papers, like looking for something as silence reigns in that room. Now it's not completely uncomfortable, but it makes you a bit nervous, so you distract yourself looking back at the green haired guy next to you.
He looks skittish and ready to jump out of his seat at any moment as he smiles timidly at you. But it doesn't look like he wanted to get away from you or even approach you, he simply looked ready. For what? You don't know. But he was ready to even fly if he could. Could he though?
That would be awesome!, you thought excited. Not that you particularly care about what types of Quirks these men have, but having one that is mostly useless makes you admire every single one, no matter how simple or boring they could be considered.
"Miss Y/L/N, may I introduce you to your future spouses," Mr. Takashi says as he signals with his hands at each man as he says their names, "Mr. Bakugou Katsuki," the blond only slightly bows and hufs in your direction, his angry expression still on his face, which amuses you a bit, "and Mr. Midoriya Izuku," the greenette guy also bows, before closing his eyes and smiling big at you, perfect and white teeth only making him even cuter.
Mr. Takashi then looks at them and says, "Gentlemen, may I introduce your future spouse, Miss Y/L/N Y/N."
You bow two times in each of their directions.
"Each of your test results show a high compatibility between you three, so we are glad to announce the exception of the Rule in this Paring."
Yep, I had to be the lucky one, you think sardonically looking down at your hands.
"Now, I will proceed to read again the law and what it entails and then I'll leave you three to get to know each other," the cheerful tone in Mr. Takashi's voice makes you want to vomit.
"We are signing the contract today?" The green haired guy asks, his right leg beginning to move rapidly up and down.
"No, Mr. Midoriya. Today is only the introduction, so you get to know each other and-..."
"How thoughtful of you."
You don't take into consideration that in a room as small as that one, your murmur wouldn't get as indiscret as you thought. So when you look up, Mr. Takashi is looking at you over his small glasses, and the way he feels annoyed by you is palpable through his eyes. Yet he smiles, fakingly fondly. You should have felt intimidated by him, right now he has the power to make your life as miserable as probably his own is. However, the amused snort that comes from the blond at your right gives you a bit of reassurance that you're not the only one thinking it.
Mr. Takashi lets it slide as he begins with the clearly bad acted courtesy while reading the law again. You don't pay attention, it's clearly a protocol action of repeating the law like a trained parrot. When he finishes, he explains the next step, "Now, I'll prepare your contracts for each of you to sign. Any more idems you want to add?"
That immediately makes you sit straight as you look at the old man in front of you, "Idems? Nobody said we could add anything."
He sighs and looks at you like you're an annoying child. You frown, already the anger rising. This man was really toying with your patience. "This is a special case, Ms. Y/L/N."
"Special? Why? If they get to add idems into this stupid thing then I get to do it too." You cross your arms like a petulant child.
If he was going to treat you like a child, then you might as well act like one.
"Ms. Y/L/N…"
"No. It's already not fair that your misogynistic asses get to pair women to men as they are just reproductive systems just because you failed as a government, and now men get special treatment again-..."
He interrupts you mid sentence, "Miss Y/L/N! I don't think you understand the situation we are in right now." The stress he puts over his last two words makes you frown, to which he sighs. "These men are heroes. You do not recognize them?"
You look at them, still frowning, "No?"
The two men look at you actually perplexed, and they look at each other to see if they are feeling the same.
"Y/N, these are the heroes Deku and Dynamight." The old man introduces them again, saying their names as they are sitting next to you.
Of course you recognize these names. Thanks to the kids at school but more specifically thanks to your friends, underline stressfully the names Tora and Kira, you–oh. OH. You open your eyes wide. These are the actual heroes, the men that fight against villains and everybody loves and they appear on the TV that you turn off whenever a Hero is on and the ones your friends thirst over whenever they can.
Fucking ooohh.
You avoid looking at them. All you can think about is your friends and their suggestive commentary about how big Dynamight's biceps are and how Tora would love to lick every drop of sweat from them, or how Kira would let Deku smash her ass to Detroit.
You feel your cheeks hot as you look everywhere but them. Because now, in your head, the imagery isn't your friends anymore, but you.
You clear your throat in a failed attempt to gather yourself together. "S-sorry, I don't watch much TV." That's all the apology you offer them. "My point still stands that it's not fair-..."
Mr. Takashi doesn't even pretend to hear you out, he bluntly ignores you as he says, "Well, I'm going to go now. Have a good day you three. I expect you on the first of November to sign your contracts." With that he stands and walks out of the room, leaving you alone with the two most famous Pro Heroes of your generation.
You feel outraged by everything. By this stupid governor in charge of your contracts; by his stupid machism that he clearly didn't intend to hide; by having not one, but two Pro Heroes as future husbands.
The greenette guy, famously known as Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku, hmms as he turns a bit in your direction. He looks a bit nervous as he scratches the back of his neck and looks apologetically in your eyes.
"If it helps, the only thing that they let us add is a Confidentiality point." He smiles timidly, and you can see he's trying to cheer you up.
You frown though.
"It doesn't help, Deku." The blond says, crossing his arms again over his chest.
"Confidentiality? What do you think I am going to do? Post pictures on Twiber of either of you in your underwear?" You're angry, and you know it's not fair that you take it on them, but the whole situation it's frustrating.
"It could surprise you how many would even sell our used underwear."
You look at Pro Hero Dynamight directly in the eyes as he speaks. The thought of it is preposterous, yet the seriousness in his face tells you he's not joking.
And then Tora and Kira invade your mind. Yep, they would probably buy those.
You make a face as you relax on your chair looking forward, "That's disgusting."
Midoriya Izuku exhales a timid laugh through his nose. "It is." You look back at him and he's smiling at you again. "I'm sorry about it, but we needed to add the idem."
In a certain way, you get it. You understand the need to keep their lives private, considering how famous they actually are. They didn't know who they were going to end up paired with, just like you didn't either. They don't know you, and you really can't blame them for taking care of their own selves. You could have been one of those crazy ass fans that followed them everywhere and purposely put themselves in danger just to get their attention.
You suddenly feel thankful that your friends, even though they were a bit obsessed over Heroes, to them it was just the fanaticism and dream desires. You knew they weren't that obsessed or crazy to the point of putting themselves purposely in danger just to get a 'hello' from them.
You sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-... I'm not angry with you."
"Oh, no, it's okay–" the green haired guy says, but the blond suddenly interrupts.
"You're not the only one angry with this law." Bakugou says matter of factly; you don't know him, but you would bet he was trying to make you feel better, in his own way.
Midoriya nods in agreement.
You look at them. Really look at them. Damn, they are truly handsome. Now that you pay attention, they both have scars on their faces, some more visible than others. Bakugou has one in particular that starts from somewhere under his chin and goes up from the right side of his cheek to almost under his eye. Shit, that must have hurt. Midoriya has small ones around his face. However, none of their scars make them look bad or ugly, on the contrary. It adds to their strong, powerful semblance. Both of them radiate a strong confidence, a secure aura that makes you feel so safe. It's strange, new. A feeling you weren't used to.
A feeling it died the day they died.
You look elsewhere; both their stares make you feel overwhelmed. They are evaluating you probably the same way you are.
You suddenly gather the entire situation in you. Two men are your Pairings. Two men who are real Pro Heroes. Pro Heroes Deku and Dynamight, to be more specific. The two Pro Heroes that hold the entire country, if not the world, on their backs. The two Pro Heroes every woman in this society could only dream for. The two Pro Heroes you were one hundred percent safer with, making you mostly untouchable to any civilian or villain alive. And they are, from this day onwards, the future fathers of your children. Two Pro Heroes are going to be your husbands.
In another circumstance, you would have refrained yourself from reacting in any way, but you can not contain the laugh that possesses your being. It's loud, and so funny. This whole situation is.
You, probably the only woman in this world who does not want anything to do with Heroes, are going to marry not one but two Pro Heroes. The most famous ones of all of them.
It's absurdly funny. So you laugh, under their perplexed expression.
"What's so fuckin' funny?" Bakugou asks, scowl on his face that only makes you laugh harder.
Midoriya looks everywhere but you, trying to avoid laughing alongside you. Probably not because of the same reasons, but you're glad he finds your laugh funny and contagious. That only infuriates Bakugou even more.
"S-sorry…" You say once you're calmed enough. "Umm, I never, in a million years, thought I would end up with two Pro Heroes as husbands," you offer as an explanation.
Bakugou tenses, holding his crossed arms over his chest tighter. "Got a problem with it?" Asks defensively, but also curious. Midoriya definitely looks curious at you, waiting for your answer.
You snort, "About you both being Heroes? No, not at all. It's just… I'm simply not interested in the whole Hero thing."
Bakugou raises a brow, "You do know the society you live in today has a bunch of them, right?" He feigns the worried tone he uses, you know he's just mocking you. Midoriya elbows him in reprimand.
"I know," you simply answer before sticking out your tongue at him. Bakugou smiles to the side, a bit surprised by your action.
You stand up, ready to leave this odious room as soon as possible. A light sound that only you are able to hear from your stomach reminds you haven't eaten anything since the quick and small lunch you had early that day during the school break. Maybe it would be a good idea to invite them to have dinner with you; but before you get the chance to say anything, Midoriya stands next to you and faces you a bit abruptly. He reminds you of an eager puppy, ready to be as close to its master as physically possible and ready to do whatever its master asks of it. It's kind of cute, but it still takes you by surprise.
"Would you like to have dinner with us? Our favorite restaurant it's just a few blocks away and they serve the most delicious ramen and katsudon–oh, Kacchan can cook too, his katsudon it's even better, but we could have that another day and‐…"
You watch amused Midoriya's word-vomit as you lean back a bit from him. It doesn't bother you, his proximity, but you are realizing how big he actually is now that he's standing. He didn't look like it while sitting next to you a few seconds ago, and especially next to Bakugou. But damn, he is big. Wide shoulders that probably hide the entirety of your body, strong arms that suddenly remind you hold the entire force that protects this country in one smooth punch.
Number one Pro Hero Deku looks exactly like what a number one Pro Hero would look like in anyone's mind.
Bakugou stands up then and sighs, putting one hand on Midoriya's shoulder and pulling him back, away from you.
Holy. Shit.
Bakugou is even bigger than Midoriya. Freaking big arms and body that is enlightening a size kink you didn't know you had until now, with these two gods standing right in front of you as prove to your eyes that men like this freaking exist.
"Who fucking said I'm gonna cook for you two, nerd?"
The scowl on his face and his vermilion eyes looking from Midoriya to you suddenly feels like a slap of realization. You gasp loudly, which makes them look in surprise at you.
"You are the asshole from the hospital!" Your finger pointing at Bakugou only makes him frown in confusion, but then he pulls his eyebrows up in recognition, a side smirk appearing in his face. His forearm then rests on Midoriya's shoulder.
"Hey, little grub," you can swear the tone in his voice decreases lower as he speaks with cockiness.
"Oh, you're lucky there were people around, or I would have kicked your ass to Sunday," your threat only makes him laugh.
Midoriya only looks confused and surprised at the same time, eyes traveling from you to the man leaning on his shoulder next to him. "You two know each other?"
"I wish we didn't," you spit and Bakugou laughs again before walking to the door of that office.
"Let's go, nerds," he simply calls you and Midoriya, and you definitely want to kick his ass.
Regardless, you both follow, Midoriya not being able to take his big and expressive eyes from you as you walk.
The walk towards the restaurant was… interesting. While Bakugou kept quiet, walking next to you with his hands inside his pockets, Midoriya couldn't stop talking while walking on the other side –you did notice how they strategically guided you to the middle though. That was kind of thoughtful of them. But you did wonder if they did that on purpose or by mere unconscious protectiveness.
Midoriya spoke about the weather, how cold the wind was getting but the sun made it all better even though it was already starting to hide in the horizon. How nice it would be to go trekking to the mountains with a weather like this one. Or how cool it would be to go to an amusement park. He kept talking and talking, and you understood he was only like that because of how nervous he actually felt. So you simply smile, and nod, and agree with whatever he is saying, trying to ease him a bit.
When the three of you arrive at the restaurant, Midoriya is the one who approaches the receptionist to ask for a table, Bakugou and you stay a bit behind.
"You don't have to agree to everything he says, you know." He says, not looking at you, but definitely talking to you. It takes you a second to understand what he is saying.
You smile then, and you do look at him. "If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be. I don't care if you're even more famous than the president himself, I know how to say no."
Bakugou then looks at you, and you can see the little smirk that wants to appear on his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off by your phone ringing.
You pull it out from your bag, and the name Tora shines on the screen.
"Sorry, I have to take this."
Bakugou nods, looking back at where Midoriya is standing in waiting, looking in your direction.
When you answer, you don't get to say anything or properly place it by your ear that you hear the screaming.
Tora is screaming something like "put that down, now!", and Kira's response is "fuck you, fuck everything!"
Bakugou then looks at you frowning, which means he can even hear the screaming too.
"Tora?" You ask. You don't know how to feel. The amount of time those two call you screaming is uncountable, you're used to their dramatics.
"Y/N, please, come to the apartment, please." Tora begs, and she usually never begs like that unless it's something that surpasses even her patience.
With 'the apartment', you know she means the one that used to be you three's. During the last two years of college, the three of you lived together because none could afford to live alone or on campus anymore. This apartment had been inherited from your father, and it was too big just for yourself, so you invited them to live there with you. After all of you moved out, this place had become somewhat like headquarters when something shocking happened or simply when one looked for a space to be alone for a while. Which means, if they were there at the moment, something stressful might have happened.
"What happened?" You ask worried.
"Kira has been Paired."
"Right… I forgot it was today too." A crashing sound is heard from Tora's side of the line. "I guess it didn't go well?"
Tora snorts. "Just come, please. I don't know how to handle her like this…"
"Alright, I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Thanks." Another crashing sound and a yelp was heard, and you know you have to hurry up.
You look up at the same time Midoriya appears next to you, looking a bit worried. "Everything okay?"
You look at them for a second, they both look worried, even though Bakugou has a frown on his face as he watches you.
You sigh. "I don't know. One of my friends was Paired today too, and from what I could hear, it wasn't good."
Midoriya nods in understanding while Bakugou just looks elsewhere.
"I'm sorry, I have to go."
The greenette simply smiles sadly, he's definitely too good of a person. So understandable and kind, it kind of makes you want to hug him and protect him at all costs, which is very amusing considering he is freaking Pro Hero Deku, the Symbol of Hope for everyone in this country, if not the world. The blond simply nods, avoiding any eye contact with you and looking –or pretending?– like he's bored by this whole conversation. By the way he moves his hands inside the pockets of his jacket he is more nervous than he lets it show. Like as if he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back.
These two men… They were completely different from one another. Yet so much alike.
You gulp. Damn, it's too soon to do what you're about to do. But considering how fast everything is already going, may as well just do it.
"Umm, if you want… you can come with me?" You clear your throat looking down at your hands. "You're gonna meet my friends one day either way." You smile. "We can eat something there."
"Are you sure? We don't want to impose or‐" Midoriya looks at Bakugou, who looks ready to start the walk out of the restaurant.
"Oh no. You're not imposing anything… Just," you breath out a laugh, "Get ready to meet two weirdos."
Bakugou snorts and Midoriya smiles.
Exactly twelve minutes later, you open the door of the apartment. Everything it's upside down and you instantly regret having invited them now.
"Where the hell were you?!" Tora suddenly appears in front of you, getting out from her hidding inside the closet right at entrance. Of course you scream a curse. This woman was a freaking ghost when she wanted to be.
"Are you fucking trying to give me a heart attack?!"
Tora chuckles. "You deserve that. You left me with the devil's tantrum."
"I'm just two minutes late, you asshole." You try to normalize your breath, hand over your heart.
"Oh, I am the ass-..." Tora suddenly quiets, and you look at her wide opened eyes looking at the two mountains behind you.
"Umm, Tora, these are… my Pairings, Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki." You look back at them then, "Guys, this is Tora, one of my bests friends."
Bakugou nods in greeting and Midoriya nods and smiles. Tora nods stiffly, her eyes still wide and weird over them. You roll your eyes smiling, she's so weird. You love her.
"Where's Kira?"
A crashing sound again, this time louder than the ones you heard over the phone. At that moment, Bakugou and Midoriya react, both of them putting themselves in front of each of you and Tora protectively. You want to laugh at Tora's eyes getting cartoonish wider than before, realizing how big these two men are.
"Don't worry," you say immediately to them. "That's Kira."
You walk inside the apartment, Tora following you, but her eyes kept on them, which makes her bump into you when you suddenly stop.
Kira is sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room riping apart one of the sofa's pillows, angrily. The frustration is clear in every faction of her face. Pieces of glass around the floor, broken windows and mirrors, that clearly cut her here and there thanks to her own self actions.
You sigh. You have only once seen her this mad, and it was when she discovered his dad had been cheating on her mom for years. This same apartment had suffered the outcome of her anger. Mostly the same as this one happening right now.
More than feeling annoyed that she again broke everything here, you felt sad for her. Kira hadn't had the best life before. When she told you her history, you understood perfectly the way she walked through this life. She had to be strong, she had to fight, or life would chew you like a bubblegum and spit you out–at least, that's what Kira always said. Somehow, you understood way more than you wish you did.
You want to approach her, but knowing your best friend, it was like getting yourself into the mouth of a lion. So you take a deep breath to concentrate and then project an image of you walking closer to Kira and kneeling in front of her. You hear Midoriya's gasp as he takes a step closer so he can look better. That made you smile, so your own copy smiles too.
"Don't fucking smile at me, sunshine." Kira barks at you, and you chuckle. That makes her punch the pillow harder.
"Thank you for the nickname, demon," while the image you project moves its mouth as if it's talking, you actually have to speak louder so she can heat you from where you're actually standing. "Want to explain what happened to make you this mad?"
Kira growls in frustration. "Todoroki fucking Shouto."
You rise one of your eyebrows in confusion. You had heard that name before, in two ways. In a dreamy, horny way from Tora and in an annoyed and angry way from Kira.
"Oohh, no..." Tora cries as she runs back inside the closet, for protection.
"Todoroki-kun? They know each other?" Midoriya whispers to Bakugou, who shrugs in confusion.
You see it, the small things that levitate in the air and suddenly fly around the room in speed and collide against the walls. You, Midoriya and Bakugou have to actually kneel down when some pencils and small decoration items fly your way.
"Sorry," Kira says, but she's still taking her anger on the pillow. You know it hadn't been intentional. When Kira has very strong feelings or emotions taking over, her Quirk just gets out of control.
"What did he do now?" You sigh, preparing yourself for the next hour listening to this frustration Kira and said man have been having since they met.
Kira suddenly stops and looks up at you. Not at your projection of yourself who is in front of her, but you. You gulp in understanding and sigh, pulling your hair back with the fingers of one of your hands.
"Well, fuck…" You simply say, and a glass breaking again is heard at the distance in another room.
"What? What happened?" Midoriya asks, and it's Bakugou's turn to sigh annoyed.
"She has been Paired with half and half bastard." Bakugou explains, and the way he calls the Ice and Fire Pro Hero makes Kira snort a laugh.
"A fucking bastard indeed." Kira punches the pillow again angrily, wich makes you three grimace at watching her abuse the poor pillow. "Do you want to know what the fucker said, after they told us we were a Pair?" She looks up at you again, and you wince at the anger in her eyes.
"Something tells me you're gonna tell me even if I told you no," you whisper, afraid of what could happen next. And you literally take one step back, colliding slightly with Bakugou behind you. He instinctively interlace two of your fingers with one of his, promising protection in that simple hold. Midoriya gets closer to you on your side, ready to put himself in between you and whatever may come towards you.
"He said, and I fucking quote, 'I expected more'."
Midoriya gasps and Bakugou sighs loudly. "He's such a jerk." The latter says, but Midoriya shakes his head.
"I don't think that's exactly what he meant. Todoroki-kun isn't-..."
"What?!" Kira's shriek as she stood up made you instantly stand in front of Midoriya, releasing Bakugou's hold in your fingers.
Your projection immediately stands in between the real you and her, its hands holding Kira's shoulders. "Love, please calm down…"
"Do you know him? Who are you?" She barks at Midoriya, completely ignoring you and your projection, and you sigh.
"Yes, they know him," you clear your throat as she frowns suspiciously at you three. "The were classmates. They are friends."
Kira crosses her arms, still looking suspicious. You're not going to tell her who they really are. You decided that you wanted to respect their privacy as much as you could, even from your bests friends. These two men were going to make a family with you, so you were going to defend that privacy with teeth and nails.
"You don't look like models," Kira analyze them from up and down, trying to decide if she could trust them.
"Hate those..." Bakugou simply says, and Midoriya sushs him with a whispered, "Kacchan!"
Then Kira open her eyes wide, "Two?"
You sigh nodding. "Yeah… These are Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki, my Pairs."
You can feel them moving a bit behind you, probably greeting Kira from that distance.
Kira observes them for a while, maybe a couple of minutes, before she lets out an oh, my God and laughs her heart out. She laughs and laughs and you feel worried about her, you literally consider the possibility on getting her a bed on a psychic ward at the hospital.
"Does she know?" She suddenly says, a playful smirk igniting her face.
You immediately know Kira knows. Of course she would, she freaking works with Heroes most of the time! So you ran towards her, your projection doing what you were about to do in copying mechanism. It puts its right hand over her mouth to shut her up, but because it's an image, Kira doesn't feel anything more than a light breeze, so she smiles wider. Then comes your real hand, stopping her chuckles.
"Shut up!" You whisper loud, looking back at where Tora is hidding in the closet. She still hasn't come out of there, good.
When your eyes look at the two men standing there perplexed, you roll your eyes. "Kira knows. Tora doesn't."
Bakugou frowns, "How?"
Kira then bites your hand making you yelp and scowl at her, she simply smirks. "I'm Tomotsu Kira."
They both nodded knowingly. Just like you said before, everyone on the fashion industry knew her. And Heroes did too, because she sometimes had to dress them for photo shooting publicities or shows, yada yada.
"You looked familiar." Bakugou says shrugging.
"I have to admit, it took me a while to recognize you both without your costumes or masks." Kira chuckles, looking back at you. "You lucky bitch…"
The two men look ready to defend you, but you beat them punching Kira on one of her shoulders, making her yelp just like you did when she bit you.
"I hate you."
"You love me."
You shake your head before hugging her, and she returns it instantly and strongly. You stand there for a while, one of your hands caressing her back up and down and telling her everything's going to be fine in reassurance. You know what she's thinking, it was easy for you to say that, you have just been Paired with the two most wanted men on Earth. And at that, knowing well how this hatred between Kira and her Paired Pro Hero had developed and grew throughout the past three years, you simply don't know what to say.
It's surprises you when Midoriya is the one who breaks the silence.
"I don't know much about you, but I know Todoroki-kun. And I know he is very difficult, but once you get to actually know him, he's not a bad guy..."
Kira stiffens a bit, but nods and sighs, completely relaxing and calming down.
"Sorry… about this mess," she says to you once she lets you go, her hands squeezing your shoulders a bit. You smile and shake your head.
"It's okay… What is this place if not for letting us have our tantrums and existential crisis for a while before going back to reality?"
You feel the two men eyes on you, but you don't look back at them.
"Has the demon been put to sleep?" All of you hear Tora's voice inside the closet.
Kira laughs alongside you.
Oh. A totally normal day for you. Not a big deal.
#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction#mha bakugo katsuki#mha midoriya izuku#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha smut#mha angst#mha bakugou x reader x midoriya#mha bakugou x reader#bnha midoriya izuku#bnha bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou x reader#bnha midoriya izuku x reader#bnha bakugou x reader x midoriya#mha marriage law#bnha marriage law#koi no yokan fanfiction#bnha fluff#bnha smut#bnha angst#bnha comfort#bakugou katsuki x reader x midoriya izuku#bakugou x reader x midoriya
263 notes
·
View notes
Text
Daydreams
Pairing: Lead Singer! Mike Hellraiser x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Mike Winchester formed a band with his college friends and got a record deal after graduation, he is currently dating Y/N, who is his biggest muse. When I tell you Mike is down bad for his girl, he is down BAD
Warning: spelling and grammar errors, no translated Spanish, inaccurate music writing and recording process
A/N: got the idea of giving Mike the Winchester last name from @littlefreya and Henry does look like the missing Winchester brother, like he could be Sam’s twin since they’re close in age. I also had this song stuck in my head for a few days, thank you booktok
Mike was in his home studio daydreaming about his girlfriend, thinking about their date last night, the black lace dress she was wearing, hair done beautifully, makeup so pretty that he was dying to ruin it, it was all good until he felt someone hit his head.
“Hey, what the fuck, Chels?” Mike asked, soothing the part of his head where she hit him.
“Can you stop thinking about Y/N for two seconds and focus? We need one more song and we complete the album.” Chelsea said.
“Leave him, Chels, he’s clearly thinking with his downstairs brain.” Derrick said.
“Oh like you don’t think with yours when it comes to Allison? I have writers block, guys, I can’t think.” Mike said, throwing his notebook to the other side of the room.
“Do you have any cords in mind?” Chelsea asked, trying to be helpful.
“I have nothing. I think once i get the lyrics down, I can work on the melody,” Mike said, he checked his phone and saw it was almost 7. “Shit, Y/N is on her way, you guys need to leave.
“Oh come on, Winchester, we met her, she already moved in with you despite many of our jokes at your expense, I think she’s a keeper.” Derrick said.
“Haha, seriously, I need to give Y/N my undivided attention so you two need to get out of here so I can set everything up.” Mike said.
“You give her all the attention even when we are around.” Chelsea said. Mike looked at her. “Alright, fine, we’re leaving, we’re going to work on a few melodies for the new song though, see if any of them fit your lyrics. Let’s go.” Chelsea said and her and Derrick left the home studio through the kitchen door to leave through the backyard. Mike immediately changed, styled his hair back a little, and got the bouquet of roses he purchased earlier to put them in a vase on the counter. He was spraying cologne when he heard the the door open.
“There’s my girl, how was work, sweet cheeks?” Mike asked, kissing Y/N on the cheek, taking the take out bag out of her hands to put it on the counter.
“I have no words. Being a vet tech is fine, the pet owners get hysterical sometimes but it is what it is. How are things going with the band?” Y/N asked, placing her coat in the closet, walking back to the kitchen.
“Well i have writers block and we need one more song for our album.” Mike said, pulling out a chair to sit.
“I know something that might help you with your writer’s block.” Y/N said, leaning close to where he was sitting and started kissing and nibbling his neck.
“Oh, you know how much I love that, doll.” Mike said, sighing.
“I do. How about we do more of this after we eat. I stopped by that Peruvian restaurant that’s near in-n-out and got us the pollo a la brasa with extra rice, obviously, and anticuchos, jalea de mariscos, we are set for 3 days.” Y/N said,
“Thats perfect, princess.” Mike said, they kissed and began to eat.
After eating, Mike and Y/N went to their bedroom. Mike laid her down on the bed and Y/N gave him fuck me/doe eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that, doll, you know what it does to me.” Mike said, leaning in to kiss her, smiling into the kiss, she closed her eyes to enjoy the kiss even more.
Y un dos tres, tuki tuki, they did the deed, Mike was hugging Y/N, rubbing her arm.
“Why do you have writer’s block anyway? I thought you had a whole process when it came to songwriting o algo así, no, muñeco?” Y/N said.
“I do have a whole process but nothing is helping me. I haven’t had such writer’s block since I wrote ‘heaven angel’. Remember when I played that song for you?” Mike reminded Y/N.
“Oh I love that song. It was so good.” Y/N said.
“Of course you love that song, it’s about you.” Mike said.
“I know and I love it. I remember you dedicating that song to me when i went to your show. Muñeco, I love seeing you live, I really do, I hope you find some inspiration.” Y/N said, she kissed his cheek and went to the bathroom because she didn’t want a UTI.
The next day, Mike woke up and saw that Y/N wasn’t in bed. He put on his boxers and went to the kitchen and saw Y/N making breakfast, singing one of his songs, he smiled,
“Come and turn around 'Cause it's not just a figure of speech.” Y/N sang.
“You got me down on my knees, It's getting harder to breathe out.” Mike sang back, hugging Y/N from behind and she let out a little Yelp of surprise.
“No me asustes así, Muñeco.” Y/N turned around to hit his shoulder and Mike made believe it hurt him. “Did you sleep well?” Y/N asked, serving herself pancakes.
“I did, do you have work today? I wanted to do something with you.” Mike said, also serving himself the pancakes that were already done.
“No, the vet I’m working for said he wasn’t going to come in for 3 days so I have 3 days off. What did you want to do?” Y/N asked, sitting down at the table with her fork and knife, placing the syrup on the table.
“I think I’ve been putting to much pressure on myself to write this song. Maybe I have to…” Mike started, as he sat down
“Tienes que despejar la mente, calm your mind, wait until the idea comes to you. I get it, what did you have in mind?” Y/N asked, cutting a piece and eating it.
“Remember when we first started dating?” Mike asked.
“I met you when you after you performed at the Santa Monica Pier, we literally went out on a date that day.” Y/N said, Mike got up to stand behind Y/N, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“You don’t want to go to the Santa Monica Pier today? We could play skeeball, I’ll put my hand over yours to guide you like old times.” Mike said, taking Y/N’s hand in his.
“Mira este, alright, fine, we’ll go, do I pack us food?” Y/N asked as Mike sat back down at the table,
“Y/N, babygirl, you’re starting to sound like your mom. If we get hungry, we’ll buy food there, I’ll pay for us, it’s fine.” Mike said, eating his pancakes.
“Fine, are we taking the jeep or the bike?” Y/N asked.
“Mm, as much as I love having you holding onto my when we’re on the motorcycle, we gotta take the jeep, I wanted to hit the beach too.” Mike said.
“Alright then, we finish eating and I’ll pack the beach bag. So we’re doing the rides first?” Y/N asked.
“Of course, the Ferris wheel, the coaster, the shark frenzy thing, then we can skeeball, and we’ll stay at the beach for the rest of the day, it’s 9:27, we’ll leave at 10.” Mike said.
“I’ll get ready then.” Y/N said.
They finished eating and Y/N was putting on her swimsuit in the walk in closet that connected to their room when Mike walked in. When he saw her in the suit, he did a wolf whistle and she turned around.
“Mm i Don’t think we should go to the beach anymore, I don’t want any other man to see you in this suit.” Mike got closer to her, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her in for a slow and sensual kiss.
“Que tiene? You get to see what’s under my suit and you’re the only one who gets to please me.” Y/N teased, giving him a sweet, innocent smile.
“You are such a tease, sweet cheeks.” Mike said, shaking his head.
“But you like it.” Y/N said,
“Well you’re not lying there,” Mike said, Y/N puton her jeans shorts, a tank top, sneakers, tied her hair up in a ponytail (let your hair down if you have short hair), and wore her sunglasses. When she went to the living room, Mike was dressed in shorts, a t shirt, sneakers, a baseball cap, and sunglasses, he had their bag in hand. “You think anyone will recognize me in this?” Mike asked.
“If we learned anything from marvel movies, apparently no one will recognize you.” Y/N teased.
“Wait, my fans know we’re together, you gotta wear a hat too.” Mike said.
“The shit I do for you.” Y/N said and went to the walk in to grab her Yankee baseball cap. “Okay, let’s go, muñeco.” Y/N kissed him and they got into their 2021 jeep wrangler.
When they were in the car, Mike had his hand on her thigh, there were times where he would hold her hand, Mike’s love language was clearly physical touch. Once they made it, they got out of the car but left the beach bag since they were going in the rides. As they walked around the pier, a few people came up to take photos with Mike, Y/N happily took those photos for his fans. They went on the rides, Mike bought some cotton candy, feeding pieces to Y/N, they played skeeball together and they went to their car to get the bag and hang out on the beach. When Y/N took off her top and shorts, Mike just stared.
“Wow, wow, wow, I am LOVING the view, sweet cheeks!” Mike said as he was setting up the chairs on the sand. Y/N smiled at him and went closer to him, they kissed.
“You think you can rub sunscreen on my back?” Y/N asked.
“Of course I can, baby girl, I would love too.” Mike got the sunscreen from her bag and apply it on her back. “You ready, baby? You wanna go in the water with me?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” Y/N said and instead of walking like normal couple, Mike carried Y/N over his shoulder and both were laughing like crazy until they made it on the water. “Ay, está helada, it’s so fucking cold, no puede ser.”
“I’ll warm you up.” Mike said, hugging her. They were like this for a while until Mike went back to his chair and saw his phone ringing. “What up?”
“You’re telling me you’re having a beach day instead of writing a song?” Chelsea asked.
“Oh my god, Chels, I can’t write music under all this pressure, I’m sorry that I’m not the best song writer, do you have anything written, hm?” Mike asked,
“Don’t use that tone with me.” Chelsea said.
“Look, I am with Y/N right now and if it’s any consolation, I just thought of a line that we could use but you need to write it down, okay? ‘She knows she’s a tease’, you got it?” Mike asked.
“Mike, we’re not making another song about your girl.” This time it was Derrick on the phone.
“THEN THINK OF SOMETHING BETTER!” Mike hung up the phone and both Derrick and Chelsea on silent. He sat on the chair and he sees Y/N getting out of the water, walking towards him with water droplets on her body.
“Who was that?” Y/N asked as she straddled him. Mike put his hands on her hips.
“Just Chelsea and Derrick, they’re on my ass about the song.” Mike said, he leaned in to kiss her. “Oh, my brothers are going to come over tomorrow.” Mike was going to kiss her again but she pulled away. “What?”
“Your brothers are coming tomorrow and you didn’t think to tell me until right now? I have to buy ingredients to bake a pie for Dean, make a salad for Sam, clean the house, we gotta go.” Y/N said getting off his lap and drying off with a towel. “Pack this up in the car while I go change.” Y/N said. She went to the changing room, put on her clothes, and she walked back to the car to tell Mike to go change. She Waite sun til he came back and started the car. “We have to go to the supermarket to get apples, cucumbers, carrots, spinach, and we need more eggs.”
“Yeah of course, I’ll pay, they’re my brothers anyway.” Mike said.
“I’ll make baked chicken with rice, I have all the spices to make the marinade and let it sit. And we need potatoes to make the French fries from scratch, and chicken thighs and drumsticks. So tomorrow, I need you out of the kitchen, work on the song, okay. But how the hell do you tell me last minute? I respect your parents, I really do, but what the fück?!? Is this how you had Mary? Telling her shit last minute like a fücking elementary school kid that forgot to buy poster board?” Y/N asked angrily.
“The point is I told you now, it’s not late at all, you have time to leeos es everything.” Mike said.
“Thats where you’re wrong, muñeco, it’s 5pm, people are getting off work, there will be traffic.” Y/N said.
“We can handle traffic, just don’t be mad, okay.” Mike said.
“When did your brother tells you they were coming over for dinner?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t know…it was last week, I remember because you made lasagna.” Mike said and Y/N gave him a zape.
“I can’t believe you had a whole fucking week to tell me, sabes que, you’re staying in the car while I get groceries.” Y/N said. “Why should I suffer? You’re getting the groceries, I’ll text you the list.”
“Yeah, of course I’ll do it. You want me to buy something else?” Mike asked.
“Just get what’s on the list.” Y/N said. They were quiet for the rest of the ride, Mike parked in the Shop Rite parking lot.
“I’ll be right back.” Mike said, getting out of the car.
Mike went to shop rite and bought what Y/N had on the list, plus a few snacks he knew Y/N liked and ice cream because there should always be ice cream in the house. He paid for everything and got back in the car to drive home. Once home, he brought in the groceries while Y/N just brought in the beach bag.
“Okay, out of my kitchen, I need to make the marinade.” Y/N said, pushing him out.
“Wait, I’m hungry, I need to eat.” Mike whined.
“Then heat up the leftovers, no puedo hacer nada if you’re here.” Y/N said. Mike walked away in surrender.
“Im sorry for not letting you know.” Mike said.
“It’s fine, just let me do what I need to do.” Y/N said.
It was the next day and like promised, Mike was in the home studio with Chelsea and Derrick.
“I have something down, ‘she’s all I breathe when I should be breathing air’ i think it could be part of the chorus.” Mike said.
“Ugh, why are you so obsessed with her?” Derrick asked.
“You have never been in love and it shows. Besides? I think our new album is missing a love song, this could be that love song.” Mike said.
“Fine, if you insist on writing a song about Y/N, how does she make you feel? I already know that all you do is daydream about her but how would you describe her?” Chelsea said. Mike started thinking how to put what he feels into words.
“You know that feeling when you know they’re the one? Like you know that person is all you’ll ever need, that one else could even come close to being like that person.” Mike started.
“That’s good, that’s good.” Chelsea wrote the idea down.
“Metaphorically speaking, how would she be?” Derrick asked, sitting down on the couch.
“Like your favorite song you have playing on a loop, it’s all you’ll ever listen to, nothing else’s but that song.” Mike says.
“Isn’t that basically ‘replay’ by Iyaz?” Chelsea asked.
“Shit, you’re right.” Mike said,
“You’re on the right track. Let’s think of something else, um…” Chelsea started and the three of them started thinking of something else to compare Y/N to.
“A book! What about a book?” Derrick asked.
“That could work, Y/N LOVED reading, there’s this book called ‘beautiful disaster’ that she’s always reading, it’s so worn out but it’s her favorite book of all time, it’s all she read when she’s bored.” Mike said.
“That’s it! Okay, here’s the music sheet I made, um, start playing it and I’ll say the lyrics I’m thinking, alright?” Chelsea said.
“Yeah, de una as Y/N would say.” Mike said as he picked up the guitar to play the notes, Chelsea started humming.
“She’s all I read, she’s all the literature that I’ll ever read.” Chelsea sang.
“That’s perfect! Im writing it down right now, okay. That’s really good, Chels.” Mike said.
“Okay, we wrote that Y/N is literature, what kind of literature would she be?” Derrick asked.
“She makes me feel so many things. I remember when we first started dating, I would text her poems every morning.” Mike said, then an idea sparked on his head. “That’s it! Okay, the notes, the notes, there it is, okay…’she’s all the literature I’ll ever read, she’s poetry, but she’s like the good kind that doesn’t make me sleep’ how does that sound?” Mike asked.
“Finally you being whipped has brought some food to the band.” Derrick said jokingly.
“Haha.” Mike laughed sarcastically and threw a paper ball at him.
“Alright, we have the first verse done, that’s good, this is great progress.” Chelsea said.
Y/N was in the kitchen, she has the rice, chicken, and salad done, she opened the over door when she heard the doorbell ring.
“Fuck.” She muttered as she took the pie out of the oven. She wiped her hands on her apron, walked through the dining room, living room, and opened the door. “Sam, Dean, come in!” Y/N said, hugging Sam and Dean Winchester.
“Hey, sweetheart, where’s our brother?” Dean asked.
“He’s in the studio. I’ll get him, but please, sit, make yourselves comfortable on the couch, did you guys come in the impala?” Y/N asked.
“You really love that car, don’t you?” Sam asked.
“It’s a beautiful car, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said, she knocked on the studio door. “Muñeco, your brothers are here.”
“Im coming, sweet cheeks, I’ll just finish up.” Mike said and he heard Y/N walk away.
“‘Muñeco’? ‘Sweet cheeks’? You are whipped.” Derrick commented.
“Do we stay?” Chelsea asked
“No, you don’t have to, I’ll try to finish the hutías tonight though, have a safe trip back.” Mike said and the three of the left the studio, Chelsea and Derixk leaving through the backyard. Mike walked into the living room and saw his brothers. “Sammy, Deano!” Mike said, hugging them.
“Nice to see you too, Mikey.” Sam said.
“How’s the little rockstar? Working on a new song already?” Dean asked as the four of
Dinner went really well, they talked about what they’ve been up to, Dean complimenting Y/N’s cooking, especially the pie, Dean took the pie with him when Sam and Dean left.
“Dinner went well, don’t you think?” Like asked.
“It did.” Y/N said as she cleared the table but Mike held her wrists.
“I’ll clear the table and wash the dishes, okay? Hey ready for bed.” Mike said, kissing her forehead.
“What about you?” Y/N asked.
“Im not tired yet, I’ve also been on a roll with the lyrics so I’m gonna see if I can finish.” Mike said.
“Does that mean I’ll be able to listen to the song tomorrow?” Y/N asked.
“Maybe, go to bed though, you’ve been cooking all day” Mike said, kissing her again.
When Mike was finished washing dishes, he brewed himself a cup of coffee and took out a concha from the box that Y/N got this morning from the bakery. He went to his studio.
“Alright, no dicking around, how do I continue this song?” Mike asked himself. He started humming, thinking about Thursday night how Y/N looked at him with those eyes that drive him crazy. “I really gotta stop daydreaming.” Mike said, sipping coffee. “Okay, her eyes are what..? Lust? Love? A movie? Maybe an x-rated one by the way her eyes get me…that’s it!” Mike exclaimed, writing down his thoughts. “Her eyes are porn and she knows it, won’t shut her eyelids till she gets invited” Mike sang as he thought back to all the moments Mike and Y/N had made love.
Mike’s writing process was like this for a few hours until he had the whole song written. He played the whole song a few times to make sure it all sounded like a real song. But mans is too tired so he called Chelsea. She answered after 3 rings.
“Michael August Winchester, you better have a good reason for waking me up at…3 in the morning?!? Why the hell are you calling me at 3 in the morning?” Chelsea asked.
“I finished the song, i need you to hear it, I need to know if it’s a good song.” Mike said.
“Why can’t Y/N listening to it?” Chelsea asked tiredly.
“Im not going to wake up my girlfriend at 3 in the morning, don’t be ridiculous.” Mike reasoned.
“You woke me up at..! You know what, doesn’t matter, I’ll call Derrick and we’ll go over the song before we call Teddy to have him hear the song. I’ll see you later.” Chelsea hung up.
Half an hour later, Chelsea and Derrick showed up, knocking on the kitchen door, Mike answered it.
“You know what time it is?” Derrick asked.
“Just listen to the song. I think it sounds good but I need you guys go play your parts too.” Mike said and they walked into the studio. Chelsea looked at the lyrics.
“Not bad at all, let’s see how it sounds.” Chelsea said. She picked up the bass and Derrick went to the drum set. After playing, Chelsea was smiling and so was Derrick.
“Winchester, the song is great. We’ll call Teddy later in the morning, like 10am, which is a very fucking reasonable hour by the way, we’re gonna crash on your guest room.” Derrick said, getting off the drum set chair.
“That sounds fair, you guys know where it is, goodnight, thanks for coming over.” Mike said.
“No problem, we’re all friends here, goodnight.” Chelsea said, putting down the bass. The theee of them left the studio, going to their rooms. Mike got in bed, spooning Y/N and she stored awake.
“Muñeco? What time is it?” Y/N asked.
“Don’t worry about, go to sleep, baby.” Mike kissed her cheek and both fell fast asleep.
The next day, the band is at Ellemar records with Teddy Price.
“There they are, there’s my favorite band! I heard you had a new song for me?” Teddy asked.
“Yes we do, Mike stayed up until 3am writing it, we think it’s great but we definitely need your expert ear.” Derrick said.
“Say no more, get into the recording booth, your instruments are all there, let’s see what you got.” Teddy said. He sat at the soundboard and gave the band the go ahead to start playing. Teddy was impressed. “Amazing song! Did you write it about your girl, Mike?” Teddy asked through the soundboard mic.
“Yeah, she’s my muse.” Mike said with a lovesick smile.
“I think we got a hit here so why don’t you guys take a break and we’ll record the instruments. Later Mike will hop into the recording booth and get vocals done. They will be your most popular album yet, take 10.” Teddy said.
A week later, they finished recording the song. A fee months later, after discussing the album cover, what songs go on the album, and tweaking and mastering the songs, they finally have a release date of the album.
“Our album comes out May 17!” Mike exclaimed, hugging Y/N before lifting her up and twirling her around.
“Que emoción, are you excited?” Y/N asked.
“Beyond excited! Especially because Teddy also got us a spot at Coachella! We’re going to be on the main stage on Saturday for both weekends.” Mike said.
“No way! You’re playing Coachella, that’s huge! Becky G was at Coachella last year, I wonder who else is part of the lineup.” Y/N said.
“I don’t know either but Teddy is managing everything, he got us booked in this fancy hotel, or he’s working in it, and of course since you’re my girl, you’re coming with me.” Mike said, kissing her.
“Will we get to enjoy the festival? Like when you’re not performing?” Y/N asked.
“I think we should be able to.” Mike said.
COACHELLA comes and the band is getting ready to perform.
“Everyone give it up for We Three!” They announced, the crowd starts screaming like crazy as the band got out.
“Hey everyone, we’re We Three and thank you so much for coming out here!” Mike exclaimed. We’re going to open the show with a song from our new album going out May 17. The song is called ‘Daydream’ and it goes out to my girl, I love you, you’re my dream girl, hope y’all like it.
She's all I read
She's all the literature that I'll ever need
She's poetry
But she's like the good kind that doesn't make me sleep
Her eyes are porn and she knows it
Won't shut her eyelids 'til she gets invited
We're not keeping score, but she's winnin'
Likes it when I'm singin', as long as it's for her
Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her
She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air
She knows I'm weak, yeah I
Daydream every day about the things we do at night
She likes the word, "Please"
But not the polite kind, the one in the sheets
She knows she's a tease
She's here for a good time then she's gonna leave
She'll start a war and she knows it
Won't stop her fighting 'til my flag is rising
We're not keeping score, but she's winnin'
Likes it when I'm singin', as long as it's for her
Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her
She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air
She knows I'm weak, yeah I
Daydream every day about the things we do at night
Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her
She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air
She knows I'm weak, yeah I
Daydream every day about the things we do at night
The crowd SCREAMED, they went crazy for the song, whether it was the lyrics itself or Mike’s guitar, the crowd loved it. They finished their slot and they went backstage, Mike saw Y/N with a teasing smile.
“Im your dream girl, huh? You daydream a lot about me?” Y/N asked, wrapping her arm around his neck.
“I daydream everyday about you. Whether it’s you in your lingerie, you cooking, coming home from work, you eating ice cream, I daydream about you.” Mike said.
“You’re so sweet.” Y/N said, leaning in to kiss him. Mike groaned into the kiss. “Wow, you really are weak.” Y/N laughed.
“You know I am, I could never say no to you, let’s go get some food because I’m starving, you think there’s tacos?” Mike asked.
“There should be, Coachella valley is heavily populated with Hispanics.” Y/N commented.
The End
Taglist: @warriormirkwood @shellyshellshell @marieksg
If Walter in general is called “Oso”, Mike who is bien caribonito, such a pretty boy, his nickname is definitely “muñeco”. What should Henry’s nickname be? Obviously besides the classic amor, mi vida. Maybe more Henry and Mike one shots in the future
#hispanic reader#latina#hispanic#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill#mike hellraiser#hellraiser#hellraiser mike#Spotify
60 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ambi-stage
I can't make a title wait-
courtroblawson-blog
Courtney R. Lawson
akuawaist
the angel you don’t know
megasocky
19-2000
everything14
Camilo