Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Tags: smut, so much smut, dubious consent, death threats, slight horror, grinding, finger sucking, breast play, oral (m and f rec), unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, cum swallowing, praise, multiple orgasms, facefucking, subspce elements, cheating (or is it?), fluff at the end
wc: 11,125 (when I say that like 8,000 words of this is some kind of smut)
No names are mentioned in this until the last scene, it could really be anyone you want if you ignore the end
Written for @makizdoll because she put the idea of a ghostface!Maki in my head. Sorry for the wait queen
Also I haven't written smut in years so this was a challenge for me. Sorry in advance if that shows lol
Everything pointed to a great movie night.
The first Scream movie fired up on the TV, the comfiest blankets and cushions set up on the couch, the warmest, butteriest popcorn fresh out the microwave, steaming hot and salty.
You took the bowl to the couch in the living room, turning off the lights to the adjacent kitchen to enjoy the horror movie in the dark like god intended, and settled into the warm fuzziness of the blankets. The title card blared on the TV screen as you slipped the first piece of popcorn into your mouth, the flavour spreading across your tongue as the opening sequence played.
Eerily similar to you, Drew Barrymore was firing up some popcorn to watch a movie. Not so similar to you, her popcorn making experience was cut short by a random man calling her landline, taunting her with threatening conversation, before chasing her around her house and killing her.
You smiled as the opening credits rolled. The original Scream was a favourite of yours to watch when you needed a rush in your veins. Although now, with the amount of times you’d seen it, the scares had lost their sharp edge. Each kill made you smile in fond nostalgia for the time you watched for the first time and fell in love with the genre of horror. The thrill the suspenseful music evoked as it peaked and waned, only to peak again in a jumpscare that made your heart skip a beat.
The movie was a quieter part when you felt your phone ring from underneath the blankets. Assuming it was a call from a friend or your boyfriend, you paused the movie and fished it from its fabric prison. You missed the critically low battery notification, too focused on the fact it was an unknown number.
No funny nickname or inside joke, just a string of numbers that could’ve been anyone. Certainly not someone you knew. But for whatever reason, you accepted the call. You could probably have some fun with this. Kill some time, maybe even prank someone.
You held the phone to your ear.
Silence. Or, almost silence.
The person on the other end of the call was just breathing heavily.
The first few seconds, there was nothing.
“Hello?”
Still nothing, just heaving breath.
“Hello?” you repeated.
The seconds dragged on. Still nothing. You were about to hang up and go back to your movie when-
“Hello.” The voice was deep. Dark.
“Who is this?” You asked.
“Who is this?” The caller asked back, a teasing lilt in their voice.
“How am I supposed to know who you are?”
“I don’t know.”
The call fell to silence.
“Hm. I may have dialed the wrong number.”
“You probably did. It happens. See ya.” You cut the call off and threw your phone a little way away from you on the blankets.
It wasn’t ten seconds before your phone buzzed again. You groaned, stretching to reach it, to find the same string of numbers on the screen. Again, for some unknown reason, you answered.
“Hello?”
“Oh. Sorry, I must’ve dialed the wrong number again.” The voice didn’t sound the least bit sorry.
“Why’d you do it again then?”
“Probably an accident. My fingers are a little big.”
That was weird information. Still, he spoke again.
“Am I forgiven?”
“I guess? Have a nice night now.”
“Wait!”
He sounded like they really wanted to talk with you.
“Yes what? I’m trying to watch a movie.”
“Oh, cool? Which one?”
“Scream. The original one.”
“Oh yeah, that’s the one with the weird dudes in those ghost masks right?”
“Yeah, ghostface.”
“That your favourite one?”
“Yeah, but what did you want to talk about? We don’t know each other.”
“I’d like to. You sound pretty.”
“Pretty.” However much you should be feeling creeped out by now was overshadowed by your confusion.
“Yeah, pretty. Cute, even.”
You forced out a laugh.
“So, you got a boyfriend?”
“Yes, I do. And he could beat your ass.”
“Oh, he couldn’t. And I’d be better.”
“Better at what?”
“Being your boyfriend.”
That made you splutter. “I don’t know your face or name, what makes you think-”
“I don’t know your name either, but I’m still looking at you.”
Your blood turned to ice. You frantically kicked off the blankets and ran to the window behind your sink, cursing the fact the blinds were broken and wouldn’t roll down.
“Your ass looks good in those shorts, cutie.”
“What the fuck?!”
“Now that’s no way to talk. Should I give you a lesson?”
“You need a lesson on how not to be a creepy perv!”
“I’ll enroll later, after I teach you something.”
You were getting annoyed. “You’re all talk.”
A deep chuckle. “I make good on my promises, cutie. The lesson will be a long and hard one, but it’ll be worth your while.” He placed emphasis on the words ‘long’ and ‘hard’, making it obvious what the ‘lesson’ would be.
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Before you go”
You paused.
“Look at the forest outside your kitchen. Properly.”
Your breath hitched. Slowly, you turned around and crept towards the window. Lo and behold, if you really focused your attention on the tree in the middle of the window, you could see a figure standing beside it in a black robe.
And a ghostface mask.
Your gasp was evident. The man on the other end chuckled again.
“See you soon cutie.”
The call ended, your phone choosing the perfect time to go flat.
“No! No, no, no, no…” you frantically tried to press the power button, to squeeze some juice out of your phone, but the phone screen remained as dark as the night outside. You looked up and raced to the window, trying to spot the man in the distance, but to no avail.
He was gone.
On the move.
Hunting you down to do god knows what to you.
Your house was new, modern enough that when you bought it the home phone hadn’t been working for years and no one had bothered to fix it due to being in the age of smartphone use. You kicked yourself for it now, the ancient thing somewhere in the garage collecting dust and leaving you with no way to call the police except to wait for your phone to charge.
You leaned over the sink in a panic, making sure the latch on the window was shut tight. It was, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other ways in. Thankfully the front door was just past the living room where your movie was still paused, so you ran over and twisted the doorknob. It was locked, thankfully.
You ran upstairs, almost tripping over your own feet on the carpet to reach your bedroom. There were three windows upstairs that could be used to potentially break in. One in your bedroom, another in the upstairs bathroom, and one in the guest bedroom. You quickly fished out your phone changer from the crack behind your bed and plugged it in, but there was no time to sit and wait. The window in your bedroom was taken care of already, but you tested it again just to make sure.
You tried sliding it. Lo and behold, it didn’t budge. Your bedroom was safe at least. But there were still two upstairs windows to go. The closest one was the bathroom. You ran out of your bedroom, making it to the bathroom in a record time and stepping into the bath situated at the far wall. The window was slightly above the eye level of the bath, perfect for perching your hair products on in the rare event you actually took one. Again, you tried sliding it, and again, it didn’t budge. It probably hadn’t been unlatched in years.
You stepped out of the bath, now barreling down the hallway to the guest bedroom. It was a plain thing, lacking any of the personality your personal bedroom had, but it worked for people only spending a night or two in your home. The white curtains were drawn and unmoving, implying the window behind them was still shut so the wind didn’t blow. Still, you had to check.
The curtains peeled back with ease, showing a closed window and no creepy man in a ghostface costume with a knife looming at you through the glass. You checked the latch. Safe. You allowed yourself a breath of relief.
Except, all too perfectly, the light in the guest bedroom switched off.
Plunged in darkness, your heart started to pound again, pure panic flooding your brain as you moved in a mix between a stagger and a run, manoeuvring around the foot of the bed in the centre of the room to frantically switch the light back on. You flicked it, over and over again.
The room remained dark.
The power must’ve gone out.
How? It wasn’t a stormy night and there wasn’t any maintenance scheduled for your area.
But then you realised something.
You sprinted down the upstairs hallway, not giving your eyes time to get used to the darkness that blanketed your house. It was by sheer miracle you felt the banister of the stairs under your hand before you fell face first down them and crippled yourself with a murderer on the loose. You padded down the stairs as quickly as you could, downstairs similarly covered in darkness now with the TV turned off.
Rather than going right where the TV was, you went left. Out to the back room, with the couch, another TV, shelves with wine and the pool table. But dead centre, the gateway to your backyard,
The back door. Wide open.
You stopped, your heart jumping to your throat as your eyes stung with tears. Shit. The back door was always locked. You never had any need to use the backyard except when company was over, and that happened occasionally at most. There should’ve been no way the back door was open.
But it was. And it meant one thing.
The creepy guy with the knife was in your house.
Your breath stuttered. The only noise in the entire house was that of the soft wind blowing in through the open door. Too terrified to make a noise, your body froze, listening out for any sounds coming from your blind spots as you stared at your backyard in the distance. Even turning your head felt like it would be as loud as a rocket taking off.
You didn’t know how long you were there for, stifling cries as tears rolled down your cheeks and every nerve of your body was on edge, waiting for something to strike out of the darkness. You covered your mouth with your hands, your breath hitching when so much as the wind blew a different way.
But it remained quiet. Silent as the night itself.
Whoever was here, was lurking. Waiting.
And you couldn’t take the waiting game anymore.
You slowly padded over to the door, the wind icy cold on your skin as you shut it in miniscule increments. But finally, after an eternity, it shuffled shut. You clicked the lock into place, forgetting it made a noise as it did.
The click was deafening in the quiet. Another surge of ice bolted through you as you immediately turned away from the door to watch the rest of the house. Now that your eyes were used to the darkness, a cursory glance was all you needed.
The figure in the mask stood in the corner of the room you were in.
His head was cocked to one side, as if surveying when you’d finally notice his presence. You couldn’t see his face under the mask, but you could bet he was smiling. Wickedly. A deep laugh echoed through the otherwise silent room.
“Go on, cutie. Give me a chase.”
Your legs, which had been as useful as tree trunks, snapped out of the ‘freeze’ response they’d been locked in, and you bolted. He laughed again as he watched you leave, giving you a head start you didn’t have time to notice. All you could do was run through the back room, through the kitchen, to the front living room where you almost knocked your body into the couch.
You felt the back cushions of the couch just before you ran into it, pivoting left and launching yourself at the steps, luckily finding the banister to aid you in your mission to get to your bedroom and find your phone to call the police. Your legs rocketed you up the stairs, your rapid breathing and frantic steps preventing you from hearing your pursuers footsteps echoing against the tiled floor of the kitchen.
It was obvious where you were going, and he treated it almost like a game. A game he knew he was going to win. But you clung to that small shred of hope that you could make it to your phone, then to a room with a door that locked.
You burst into your bedroom, slamming the door shut and raced to your bed in the centre of the far wall. You felt around the blankets in the dark for your phone, an excruciating few seconds of searching passing before your hands found the solid weight. You pressed the power button, your phone thankfully starting up, but it would take at least a few minutes to fully charge up. You unplugged your phone and ran to your door to open it, but before you could,
It opened by itself.
And the figure walked in.
His looming shadow was obvious against the wall of the hallway even in the dark. He stepped through the threshold slowly, taking in the darkness.
Your breath hitched, letting him know exactly where you were. Your phone lit up, the colours of the logo shining into your skin and lighting your terrified expression for him to see in the small beam of white light.
“Too slow, cutie.”
With movements too fast for your brain to comprehend, he turned you around so that your back was against his front, your phone dropping to the floor in the process, and wrapped his arms around you.
One around your waist and the other loosely around your face, his hand over your mouth to silence you.
That woke you up.
You screamed into his hand, the noise dulled to nothing outside of the tight cocoon the man at your back created for you. You tried to move, thrash your arms and legs around, but the arms around you were deceptively bulky. Strong. You weren’t getting out of his hold unless he permitted it, but that didn’t stop you from trying.
Attempts at punches and kicks flew at him from all the directions you could reach as your screams continued, vibrating into his hand. Not one blow landed, not with him in your blind spot. They weren’t able to do any damage anyway. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the initial panic response and adrenaline started to fade from your body. You could feel it. The fight slowly leaving you, giving way to exhaustion as your lungs heaved for air.
You slumped in his hold, still conscious but wishing you weren’t. Wishing you were far away from whatever this bastard was going to do to you. A sound came from underneath his mask. A chuckle.
“Haha, that was a cute fight, cutie. But unfortunately…”
The hand at your mouth moved to tilt your head up to his.
“I’m stronger than you.”
His hold on you proved it. Ironclad and impenetrable. Impossible to break from. You could feel them on your stomach and waist. Hard muscles poked through the thin robe, pressing tightly against your skin and keeping you glued to his front. He was strong, and you had no way out.
With your mouth now free, you wanted to scream. But your still out of breath condition forced you away from it. Any attempt was fruitless. You lived alone. You were alone.
With this unknown man.
“Please don’t kill me.” your voice was small.
He laughed, that deep bass reverberating through the mask. “Kill you? Cutie I don’t want to kill you.”
You felt a cool sensation at your neck, his mask pressing into it to whisper into your ear.
“I want to teach you that lesson.”
You gasped. The hand at your chin left it, trailing down your jaw to rest at your pulse point, chuckling at the race of your heartbeat through the skin. Down the slope of your neck, your collarbone, feeling the softness of you under his fingers.
He was right on the phone call. They were big. And thorough, if the snail’s pace his fingers were tracking down your body signalled anything. They trailed down your collarbone, traced the slope of your cleavage, dipped into your nightshirt. He cupped your breast in his hand and gave it a light squeeze, letting out a harsh breath at the feeling. His fingers edged your nipple, close enough to tease but not enough to touch. His other arm, the one firmly locked around your waist, let up the most miniscule bit, his hand squishing the side of your waist. Feeling the plush of your body in his hold.
Soon enough, the hand that had been trailing down your body joined it. Resting both hands on your waist. He pressed your ass into his body, your thin sleep shorts that barely covered your ass rubbing up against his jeans. They were as rough as you expected denim to be, but there was a large bulge in the middle of it.
Damn it, you were starting to slip.
“There’s something… poking me.” You whispered.
He laughed, pressing his mask further into your neck. “What do you think that is, cutie?”
You knew what it was. You weren’t an idiot. This man had somehow gotten hard at some point in the night, and was coming to collect some relief. He ground your hips into his, making small circles that slotted the bulge of his dick right between your ass cheeks. He hummed at the pressure, pulling you deeper into him. This wasn’t enough for him, not by a long shot, but he relished in the thrill of the tease and chase. He’d let it go on as long as he could.
“Answer me, cutie. What’s that I’m pressing into your ass?”
You babbled at first, but you swallowed your fears. “Your dick. That’s your dick.”
“Yeah it is.” One of his hands shifted upwards. “On second thoughts…” he stopped grinding into your hips to fake ponder his next words. A bolt of something between fear and hope shot through your heart, your logic and hope at war with each other at what he could be second guessing.
“I might kill you after all.”
You gasped again, your heart speeding up. You prepared to beg, but he spoke again.
“Unless you satisfy me well enough.” Huh?
“What?” your voice was tinged, on the verge of tears.
“Be a good enough girl for me and I’ll keep you alive. Would be a waste gutting some good pussy.” His hand shot up to your chin again, grasping your face tightly.
“I-I have a boyfriend.” you tried to plead.
“Remember what I said on the call, cutie? I would be better for you.” His fingers dipped into the waistband of your shorts for a split second, making you shiver, then took them back out. “And this is your life on the line, cutie? Are you gonna die to remain loyal to some mediocre dick?”
You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. He knew.
“So are you gonna be a good girl for me?”
You nodded slowly, settling into your fate.
“Good.” Still in the dark, his hands left your body. Then you heard shuffling.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking off this robe, cutie. Figured you might like me if I like you so much.”
“But the lights are still off.”
He laughed. “Nah, they turned back on once you got to your room. I saw your TV turn on.”
The shuffling stopped. Then his arms found you again. He hugged you, softly, like he was a boyfriend backhugging his girlfriend at the supermarket while begging for snacks. Rather than feeling fabric against your back, you felt warm skin. One hand fondled your waist, the other rubbed your ribcage, barely grazing the bottom of your breast underneath your nightshirt. But that was only some of the things to focus on.
You could feel his abs pressed against your back. Hard muscle separated by harsh divots in the skin. Your breath hitched. No wonder you weren’t able to get him off you. Between the shifting muscles in his arms, his tough hands squeezing you, and the washboard at your back, he was jacked. The kind of man who could use his girlfriend as a weight at the gym. The kind who could toss her around any which way he wanted, and be strong enough to pin her down and silence any discussion about it.
He swayed you gently in his arms like a bastardised slow dance. Your hands had hung limply at your sides all this time, but the feeling of him, his warmth, all around you had woken them up. You had to please him. Your life was on the line. You knew he’d be patient only for so long. So you finally moved your arms.
You placed your hands on his arms, finally feeling his biceps in their entirety. Up until now, you’d only felt the muscle at your torso while he caged you into him, but now you could truly explore. Hopefully he’d get a kick out of it. You wrapped your hands around his biceps, gasping in awe at the sheer thickness of them. Hard as granite under your palms and fingers.
“Aww, you like my arms, cutie?” you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Mhm.”
“That’s cute. But I’m gonna speed things up now. You just take it for me.”
He left no time for your response as he suddenly completely changed where he was on your body. He pressed his fingers against your lips, silently demanding entrance to your mouth. You obliged, opening up and letting his fingers sink into your mouth. He immediately choked you with his fingers, slipping them all the way back to your throat and laughed at how your throat constricted around the pads of his fingertips.
“Get them wet for me, cutie. Gonna need it.”
He pulled them out of your throat, settling them over your tongue. You swirled your tongue around them, laving them in the saliva that coated your tongue more and more the longer they remained in your mouth. You slowly bobbed your head the small distance you could, getting used to the pressure of his fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around the tips of his fingers, at their most sensitive and attuned to the tightness of your mouth.
You hollowed your mouth, sucking his fingers in deeper and bobbing your head harder, saliva starting to drip down his fingers and onto his hand. He groaned, the feeling a precursor to how his dick would feel in your mouth. You purposefully spit more onto his fingers as they left your mouth so the saliva ran in faster rivulets down his palm. You closed your eyes, choosing to only focus on the weight of his thick fingers on your tongue while you held onto the muscular arms wrapped around you.
His other hand, which had been still at your waist, moved. It trailed up your ribcage, slowly memorising how the bumps felt under your skin and his, before slipping underneath your nightshirt. He traced the curve of the underside of your breast before his palm cupped it, squeezing it lightly. The flesh moulded itself to his hand, yielding to his hold. You squeaked, the small vibration from your throat felt on his fingers, and he grinned wickedly under the mask.
He took your nipple between two fingers, rubbing and pinching the bud as it grew hard at the stimulation. You moaned and bucked your hips, his grin widening at the your hips brushing his dick. From then on, it was dual stimulation.
He started to thrust his fingers inside your mouth. Hard and rough. You choked on every pass he made, making you whine out. He tweaked your nipple between his fingers, stretching it and pinching it in equal, and rubbing it to soothe you when he felt nice. Waves of pleasure ran down your spine and pooled in your panties at the harsh treatment, your brain focusing on the rush of pain that came with having your breasts fondled so harshly. Your boyfriend was always so gentle with you, kissing you tenderly and treating you with care. But this man wasn’t. He was treating you like a stress toy.
With every choke on his fingertips, you made a gulping noise as you swallowed around him. He was grinding up against you now, his hips swiftly moving in time with the thrusts of his fingers. His dick was hard enough that you could feel it even through your clothes, and it didn’t feel small. It seemed to take up almost the entire length of your ass, and the idea of all that dick being inside you shamefully made you even wetter. His breathing grew heavier as your saliva ran down his wrist, soaking his fingers.
You moaned a particularly needy whine, squirming in his hold as the assault on your tits and mouth reached a breaking point. Finally, he retracted his fingers from your mouth, leaving you panting.
“Fuck, so wet for me.” His voice was strained, holding up his fingers that would glisten if the lights were on. “I’ll turn the lights on.”
You whined as his other hand left your breast, your right nipple puffy and sore. He somehow made his way perfectly over to your bedside lamp, then switched it on, bathing the room in a golden glow. Now able to see, your mouth dropped when you saw him.
He was exactly what his physique had felt like. Strong, sculpted with muscles more befitting of a greek god than anything resembling man. His biceps flexed almost automatically, like they had a mind of their own, shifting in the light of your lamp. His abs too, simply feeling them in the dark didn’t do them justice. Hard planes of muscle separated by deep divots that were exactly the washboard you’d envisioned. You failed not to look down at them, unable to control your drooling at the dusting of dark hair underneath his belly button, teasing into the waistband of his jeans.
This man could fold you six ways to Sunday, and you’d thank him. His fingers still glistened with your saliva, the trails shining gold down his hand and wrist.
He chuckled at your reaction. The pupils in your eyes should be smaller now due to you facing the light, but they remained as blown wide as ever. You were nothing less than awed at his physique, distracted by the ripple of his muscles and bounce of his pecs as he laughed. The mask had a fabric lining that extended down, some of it falling into his cleavage.
“Told you you’d like me, cutie.” He paused, looking you up and down in the light now too.
Your sleep shirt was rumpled from his fiddling with your breast, saliva shined on your bottom lip and dripped down your chin, your eyes were lidded and dark. Your shorts had ridden up your thighs and ass, a feat almost deserving of praise considering how small they already were before, revealing all the exposed skin he could sink his teeth into. You were short too, he could easily pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.
But he refrained.
He instead walked around behind you, taking you into his arms again. He pressed his fingers up to your mouth again, coating them in a fresh layer of your saliva before sticking them down your shorts. Past your underwear. His slick fingers met your pussy, a deep laugh rumbling from his throat when you gasped at the sudden action.
Even with the saliva on his fingers, he could tell the wetness he found was also your body’s reaction to his earlier ministrations. He peeled back your folds to reach your centre, rubbing his fingers up and down slowly, smearing your combined slick and saliva around your pussy. He rubbed in teasing motions, just barely nudging your clit before stroking down to your hole, dipping a fraction of his thick fingertip inside you before pulling it out.
You whined at his teasing. He was an expert in dealing almosts. He brushed up against the parts of your body that were growing to ache the most, only to pull away at the last second. You grew wetter at his touch, but just as desperate. With every pass of his fingers rubbing you at the edge of where you needed, your breathing became heavier, studded with moans. After his touches on your breast, and now the teasing on your pussy, you became impatient.
“Please touch me…”
“I am touching you, baby. Where do you want me the most?”
Baby. The nickname your boyfriend called you. It brought him to mind, but you couldn’t focus on him now. This man had wormed his way into your panties, you couldn’t be thinking of another right now.
“My clit. Please.” You stuttered out your response.
“Aww. Your cute little clit needs me? Adorable. Alright then. Just make sure to moan for me.”
Somewhere after the end of his sentence, you realised he’d partially lifted up his mask. Not enough to see any of his face, especially when he was behind you, but just enough to expose his mouth to your skin. You felt his mouth on your neck, pressing small kisses into the skin that you could almost mistake for loving if it weren’t for the plastic of the ghost face mask nudging your chin. The kisses were soft caresses, slowly growing into deeper, open mouthed kisses that made small squelches when he pulled back.
His fingers on your pussy moved upwards. For a moment you feared he’d pull back on his word and continue to tease you, just with the olive branch of neck kisses to soothe you, but he didn’t. On the up swipe, his middle finger went high enough to catch onto your clit.
You moaned aloud. Your clit felt every single microscopic ridge in his fingertip as he circled the bud, every nerve catching alight. You welcomed the touch, squirming from the pleasure rather than the desperation of being edged. His finger traced circles around your clit, even rubbing the extra sensitive spot between your clit and your clitoral hood, a spot that made you tremble in his hold. Your legs shook, now relying on him to hold you upright. The neck kisses had evolved from loving, ghostly touches to harsh attacks. He sucked red and purple marks all across your neck, ravaging every centimetre of untouched skin he could feasibly reach. He bit along the crook of your shoulder, licked a particularly purple hickey on the base of your neck, sucked on the sensitive spot near your pulse point.
Your hips bucked up as you moaned loudly, the stable touches on your clit pulling you towards orgasm. He rutted into your ass, groaning into the crook of your neck as he panted between kisses. The sign of his pleasure, simply from giving you yours, made your orgasm come closer. Then his fingers went downwards.
You whined at the loss of pleasure on your clit, the bundle of nerves throbbing from the assault it had just taken. His fingers travelled down and stopped at your hole, his middle fingers stopping and swirling slick around it. Your panties were drenched now, rubbing their hot dampness all over his fingers, but he wanted to feel the inside. They’d already felt your mouth, and how wet and hot it could be, but he knew your pussy was the real gold of your body.
He pushed a finger in, your breath hitching at the sheer thickness. It was thicker than your own fingers, stretching you out with one the same way you needed two of your own to do. The amount of slick you’d produced aided him, but the stretch was palpable. He groaned at how tight you were, sucking him in and holding him tight. There was almost no place for him to move, and it was still only one finger. He swore with a breathy tone to his voice, as if he were in awe at the sensation.
“Fuck, so tight for me baby. Could almost mistake you for a virgin.”
You weren’t one, but you couldn’t dignify his observation with a response as he started to move his finger in and out of your pussy. He took a steady pace, letting you feel just how big and long his finger was in detail as your walls gripped him like a warm fist. His finger reached deeper than you could dream of, making you whine at how big he was.
He pumped his finger in and out of you, slowly teasing a second finger up against your hole. A burning feeling arose from the impending stretch, but you welcomed the slight pain. Two fingers were always the best. He kissed over the hickeys on your neck, blunt pain arising from the pressure on the bruises as he slipped the second finger in. You gasped, the burning feeling spreading through your body and down your legs. But you were right. Once you were used to the two fingers and the burn eased, he ground the heel of his hand into your clit, amplifying the pleasure already starting to build. Your noises grew louder as your orgasm neared, your mind quickly becoming lost in the sensation.
He groaned hotly into your ear, feeling you tighten impossibly harder over his fingers and imagining how you’d strangle his cock. His dick felt on the verge of combustion from the images racing through his head as your walls massaged his fingers and your moans sang into the heated air.
“I’m… c-clos-...” you could barely speak from the sounds choking your throat.
“Let it out baby. Come for me.” His fingers remained the same steady pace they always were, the bone underneath the skin of his thumb pressing into your clit.
A final circular motion of his hand was what did you in.
Your back arched into him as you came with a loud moan. Your hips stilled and stuttered as your orgasm came over you in waves, the tempo in time with the continued thrusts of his fingers as you drenched them in your juices. He didn’t let your orgasm end, taking the pace and controlling it with an iron fist. Your mind grew hazy, your vision blurry and the nerves around your body dulled their sensation to focus your brain only on your clit and the feeling of his fingers inside you. He didn’t stop his fingers, your pussy pulsing around the soaked digits until the haze of the pleasure faded to welcome the pain of overstimulation.
You whined at it, your hips bucking in an attempt to escape the pain.
“N-no, too much-” you weakly tried to push his arm away, but he thankfully stopped.
“Fuck, you look adorable when you cum, cutie.” He pulled out of you and then out of your panties, soaked beyond saving. You flinched at the sudden coolness of the damp fabric against your raw clit. He’d slipped the mask back down, but let his hand underneath the hood to lick your essence off. His other hand gripped his dick through his jeans like it owed him money. Staving off an orgasm of his own.
“Too adorable, actually. Almost came in my pants.” The obscene sound of lips smacking off his fingers rang through the room.
“God, you taste good.” The sentence was tinged with a growl. “Get on the bed, I need to do too many things to you.”
You obeyed, sitting on the bed as he unzipped his black jeans. Even in the limited light, his boxers had a stain on the front where his cock was. To say he was well endowed looked like an understatement, but it was confirmed when he pulled the final piece of clothing not covering his whole identity down.
His dick was massive. So thick you could probably just barely wrap your hand around it and so heavy it weighed itself down. Long enough to slap his thigh as he moved, droplets of pre beading on the tip. It was enough to make you drop your jaw, wondering how the hell it was gonna fit inside you. But also enough for a small wave of slick to leave your entrance in excitement. He gripped the base in a strong fist, making him groan as he looked eyes with you. He laughed.
“Scared, baby?”
You had no response.
“Aww, cute. Not even inside you yet and you’re already dumb.” He walked up to you, his standing form towering over your seated one. The light dyed his right side gold, accentuating the flex of his muscles, while the left was shrouded in the shadows. His dick was right in front of your face, the size even more daunting but exciting up close. You looked up at him, still in the mask.
He chuckled at your expression. Your eyes were wide, as if unused to his size. Your hands in your lap fidgeting with each other. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth and released it just as quickly.
“You know what will happen if you don’t measure up, baby.”
You stilled.
“So are you gonna be good for me?”
You nodded.
“Good girl. Now lie down, wanna undress you myself.”
You immediately laid back on the bed and waited for him to join you. He crawled onto the bed and shuffled up to you on his knees until he caged your body into the blankets with his arms. You looked up at him, the dull throb in your panties and the knowledge of what he was going to do to you overriding the mild fear. He hovered over you, gauging your half-lidded expression before his hands left the bedding and he sat on his knees, his dick grazing your stomach.
He trailed his big hands up and down your sides, laughing quietly at the way you squirmed. His hands soon found their way underneath your sleep shirt, this time with intent to take it off. He grazed the side of your breasts with his fingertips before seamlessly slipping off the fabric, exposing your breasts to the cool air. You shivered at the sudden lack of heat over your chest. His hands still travelled along your body, feeling the soft skin underneath his fingers, the swell of your breast under his palm. He leaned his head down to get a closer look at your expressions, warped in pleasure but begging for more.
His fingers soon drifted, for the third time already, down into your shorts. Satisfied at the still warm and slick wetness he found stuck to your panties, he lifted his hand back out to lick at your juices, gifting you a glimpse of a sharp jawline. With an obliging lift of your hips, he slipped both your shorts and panties off, leaving you completely naked under his hulking physique.
He took a moment to look at you in all your glory. Flustered face, hands dangling in the air unknowing of what to do with them, your thighs squished together and rubbing as if to provide some friction to your pussy under the intense gaze radiating through his mask. Slick painted the inside of your thighs in a light sheen. His cock pulsed, dripping precum all over your stomach as it shifted whenever he moved.
He got up and straddled your head, pinning your hair up in a harsh fist that had you wincing. The tip nudged against your mouth. He thrusted once, in silent demand you open up and let him take your throat. You let him.
The tip alone was nearly too much for you to handle, stretching out your lips almost as far as they went so as to not accidentally graze him with your teeth. He stayed there, letting you get used to the sheer weight and girth of him in your mouth. Your tongue swiped in circles around him, paying close attention to the underside of his tip that you knew was sensitive in men. It earned you a groan, and he slipped more of his dick into your mouth as a reward.
You ran your tongue around what you could reach. He’d positioned himself at the exact angle that would have you accessing every centimetre of him while he held you against the pillow by your hair. His grip caused flares of pain to your head, but you focused on his dick regardless, swallowing the pain down. Your tongue tracked along the veins that throbbed on the underside, tracing them upwards towards the tip. His dick steadily leaked pre into your mouth, you faithfully catching it with your tongue. He moaned loudly when you dug your tongue into the crevice of his slit, making him thrust the rest of his dick inside.
You gagged, unprepared for the onslaught of his cock suddenly in your mouth. He groaned in relief, holding your head tightly against his pelvis as your throat struggled to take the full length of him in. He breathed heavily.
“Fuck baby, feel so good. ‘m trying not to cum right now.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond. You could only swallow slowly and hope for the best. He groaned at the feeling of your throat constricting on the sensitive tip, your tongue swiping along the shaft as best you could.
He soon started to thrust in and out of your mouth. He ran your mouth all along his dick, covering it with saliva before pulling out and thrusting back in with just as much fervour. Every pass made new groans leave him at the warm feeling of your mouth and the gulping noises as he reached your throat. Your eyes filled with tears at the rough treatment and the solid hits at your throat, but he was too busy throwing his head back and looking down at you, admiring your face as he fucked your mouth. He liked your tears, moaning at the sight of your desperate face.
“Fuck, don’t look at me like that, baby.”
You closed your eyes and surrendered yourself to his will. He moved you like a ragdoll, in and out, rhythmic thrusts filled your mouth to the skull and back while you could only lie there and take it. You didn’t even move your tongue anymore, it couldn’t keep up with him. Saliva spilled down your chin and pooled at the corners of your mouth, more running and frothing with every movement he made.
You reached up, resting your hands on the clefts where his thighs met his hips. His thighs were similarly swole as the rest of him, flexing in time with his thrusts. His breath became heavier, panting audible even through the mask. His thrusts stuttered, no longer the seasoned rhythm, now unstable and desperate, bucking his hips further into your mouth as he pulled out. There were bouts of a few second intervals where he just stopped thrusting, letting his tip push flush against your throat and stay there to catch his breath. You swallowed during those moments, eliciting a whine from the man above you, before he resumed his thrusts again.
He was getting close as his thrusts somehow picked up a pace that rattled your teeth. No doubt bruising your throat in the process. The more he rutted mindlessly into you, the higher his moans reached a fever pitch. The sounds leaving him had already made you leak slick down your thighs and onto the blankets, but the moans grew almost whiny.
“Fuck… I’m close baby. You gonna swallow for me? Take what I give you?”
You nodded as best you could through the dick in your mouth, staring up at him with doe eyes and tears streaming down your face. An obscene squelch sound rang out with every thrust into your throat, and one final swallow around his tip had his pulsing cock cumming straight down your throat. He groaned loudly as he fisted your hair even tighter, ensuring no amount of his cum left your mouth. The sheer amount of time his orgasm took to finally subside had your head going dizzy from the lack of air, but you found you didn’t care. He started to pull out as the last ropes of cum left him, the white liquid settled on your tongue.
He pulled out fully, panting like a dog as he rested back on his knees, his dick still rock hard in front of your mouth. Dazed, you slowly hoisted yourself up further on the pillow on your elbows, your gaze heated as you dropped your tongue, showing off the remnants of cum he’d left on it.
The effect on him was obvious. He chuckled breathily and his cock solidified further. “Fuck, baby, you could kill a man with that.” Ironic, given he would kill you if you didn’t measure up to his satisfaction. He lifted his mask enough to see his mouth, then leaned in to kiss you.
The cum in your mouth immediately transferred to his, his thick lips sucking on your tongue to taste his own cum out of you. He hungered for it, all but vacuuming your tongue into his mouth and sucking an indent of his teeth into the muscle. The salty remnants of his cum faded quickly, but he still continued to kiss you, lips moving against each other with an odd familiarity. His tongue worked its way into your mouth, curling around yours and pushing you down further into the blankets as he dominated the kiss. He explored every crevice of your mouth like he was trying to stick his tongue down your throat, to understand with his tongue why his dick pulsed so harshly when you swallowed around his tip.
Drool ran down your chin. Yours, his, definitely a mix of both. He pressed his head closer like he couldn't bear to be away, not even coming up for air despite the heavy breathing. You were sure he was drooling into your mouth, wet noises came with every smack of your lips.
Yet the time eventually came where he had to come up for air. He pulled away abruptly, on his last thread before the tingly haze in his head became the darkness. He panted, his mouth still visible to you and covered in saliva. His plump lips were red and puffy, his jaw cut like a diamond.
He loomed over you, his arms still bracing you on either side of your body. His hips shifted forward, nudging the thick tip of his dick into your inner thighs. You gasped and jumped slightly at the blunt heat, rivulets of slick dripping down your pussy and thighs that his dick was edging right into and smearing around. He groaned, so close to your pussy he swore he could almost taste it just with his tip.
Your thighs twitched, reflexively closing inwards, but his hips prevented you from closing them fully.
“Keep those legs open, baby.”
You nodded sheepishly. He leaned over you again, this time situating himself right at your pussy. He took his dick in hand, giving it one slow pump from base to tip, twisting his wrist as he got to the tip. He groaned, then ran his tip down your centre, not penetrating you yet. Your wetness coated his dick with every swipe he made, turning his rock-solid dick a shiny shade of dark red. He gyrated his hips, catching your clit in the slit of his tip at the apex and making you both moan loudly. Every pass he made downwards edged closer and closer to your pussy.
He watched your reactions, the way your face contorted into pleasure when your tender clit was ensconced in his thick tip before swiping away, the way your hands had shot up to his back at some point and dug your nails into his back. His movements were the same as they’d always been, rhythmic and so utterly calm. Collected. He groaned atop you, the heat slicking up his dick and preparing him for finally fucking you in the way you needed. The time that you’d feel him inside, stretching you out to a degree that you knew would take time to get used to.
He rolled his hips in such a way that it felt delicious, the feeling momentarily quelling the fire burning at your pussy before going right back to stoking it. You moaned every time, followed by a gruff groan from him that steadily became more ragged. He was leading to the end of his tether too.Finally, after a steady build up of the telltale knotting feeling in your gut, he stopped and leaned back.
“Need to fuck you right now, baby.”
The magic words, music to your ears. This time, he let his tip catch into your pussy, a silent temptation. You spread your legs. He stilled for a second, his breath hitching so quietly you almost missed it, then pressed in.
The stretch was unlike anything you’d felt before. He’d prepared you for half his size on his fingers, let you cum and leak your slick all over yourself to the point it was dripping onto the sheets, but the stretch still burned your muscles. He felt almost inhuman, only the tip had popped inside you but it knocked the wind out of you. You tilted your head back, almost unable to process the feeling of the thick dick finally inside you. It was cathartic, the fire burning your insides could finally begin to be put out.
He groaned above you, stilling as to not orgasm right there, tip deep in you.
“Ooh fuck baby, so tight for me. Too big for you?”
You responded with a whine, unable to use words even if you tried. Words had evaporated from your head.
He moved slowly, centimeter by centimeter, inch by slow thick inch until it seemed like you were filled up to your capacity, only to find out with a glance downwards he was only around halfway inside you. Your eyes bugged, uncertain if you could take all of him in. He chuckled.
“Aww cutie. Afraid I’m too much? Don’t worry.” His speech had an edge of grit, like he was struggling not to just plunge so deep inside you you struggled to find where you ended and he began. “I’ll make it fit.”
You whined, your brain hyperfocused on the feeling of his dick moving again, further and further inside you until it felt like he was properly in your guts. Never had you really understood the phrase ‘rearranging your guts’, but there was no other way to describe the feeling of just how deep he was inside your body. Your muscles burned from the stretch, but he stayed still, plump lips parted and teeth gritted to not rush into the deep end and mindlessly fuck you on his dick.
He had made it fit. His pelvis was against your pussy, brushing your centre. You were so stuffed of dick you couldn’t say anything, could barely make any sounds at all. You could only breathe through the stretch as you got used to it. Your pussy fluttered, making the man above you hiss and push his hips further into you.
“Fucking shit cutie. Don’t do that.”
Your brain fog eased, giving you an idea that was the opposite of what he’d just instructed you. You smirked, and clamped your pussy down onto him.
A strangled moan left his throat, animalistic in its sound. The wetness was all around him now, the sensitivity of his cock suddenly being shown no mercy. He braced himself on all fours again, his head going to the crook of your neck right below your ear. His body was pressed against yours, the softness of yours meeting the hard muscle of his. You realised you’d probably made a mistake with the reminder of just how much bigger and more muscular he was. His breath ghosted over your skin, making it prickle despite the heat.
“Big mistake, cutie.”
He immediately set a pace only classed as punishing. His hips moved with a quickness your brain could barely catch up with. Pulling out to the tip then slamming back inside you, punching that back inner wall and massaging the others hastily. The burning sensation struck back in your muscles, not having fully eased during the time he’d been still, but now it bloomed all around his cock. His tip punched your cervix in painful ruts, his thrusts so fast his hips blurred but oddly disciplined for a man on the edge.
You screamed, walls clamping down on him impossibly further, choking the veins running down his shaft and making it an active effort to keep his hips bucking into you. The force behind his thrusts sent you shifting microscopically up the pillows and the headboard banging against the wall. Not that either of you were paying attention to it when he was fucking your brains out of your head.
Every thrust of his hips into you had you moaning, the sensation too much for your little mind to handle. You started crying, tears streaming down your face as you dug your nails into his back and scratched, leaving red marks befitting of a jungle cat across the expanse of his muscles. He hissed at the pain but continued moving like nothing was happening, hips snapping into you while squeezing your hips so tightly it was going to leave finger-sized bruises across your skin by the morrow.
You were choking on your sobs, the man nestling his face in your neck smirking against the skin as he heard them faintly over the wet squelches coming from where your bodies were joined. So wet, you were dripping out all over him, all around him, so slick it was sometimes difficult to stay inside, almost slipping out a couple of times. Your cockdrunk whines and whimpers, brain unable to form words, and then he hit that spot inside you that made your vision white out and your body spasm.
You hadn’t even noticed you were that close to orgasm, so it hit you like a truck ran through. Your brain couldn’t handle it, shutting down enough to have you only looking dazed at the ceiling as the tidal wave crested over your pussy then spread to the rest of your body in time with your pounding heartbeat.
Your pussy clenched around him as you gushed, tearing a ragged groan deep from his throat. He ignored your still body, pumping his dick inside you and milking your orgasm for every drop it had like nothing had happened, nearing his own edge at your walls all but choking his dick like a vice.
“S-shit! So good for me, dripping all over me like a good little slut.”
He gritted his teeth, feeling the rise of his orgasm cresting, but managed to stave it off. He wanted to feel you. You were pliant as a ragdoll, your body moving in response to his without any input from your tapped-out mind. Even your hands limply rested on his back, not scratching or digging in your nails. The sensitivity on his dick had him stutter on his thrust, bucking into you halfway to pulling out and almost slipping out of you on the tip. He stayed out of you a split second longer than he had all the other times before, his hand coming down to squeeze the base with such grip he whined under his breath.
But it worked. He resumed his pace, this time sliding his hand onto the curve of your neck. You didn’t react. He grunted, pounding into you with the fervour of a man starved, like he’d die tomorrow if he didn’t fuck you into silence and also fuck you out of it, too. He squeezed your neck, right on the pulse points that had your head remaining in its hazed state. Your pussy pulsed around him but was slacker than before, your body overstimulated and your thigh muscles twitching, but he kept going.
“Fuck baby… fucked you so good you’re not whining anymore.” He breathed out a laugh. “It’s okay, I’ll fuck you back to life.”
He paid attention to your face from your neck, squeezing your neck for split second intervals until the light returned to your eyes. His hips never slowed their pace, his stamina prepared for the fuck of a lifetime every night if his lovers so wished. You heard his words, mind slowly processing them to the forefront and finding the irony in them given his threat from earlier. Fuck you back to life? Well, you were breathing again now. Your brain was waking up again from its rest, thoughts no longer slurred in your head and it was just in time to feel him still pounding into you like nothing had happened.
He held his grasp on your neck, feeling the vibration of your whine on your skin. “Like this baby?” he asked teasingly, and you could barely nod.
He grinned wolfishly, licking a fat stripe up your cheek and tasting the dried salt on your skin. Pressing down on your neck tighter, he huffed out a surprised groan when you tightened around his dick again. He felt a spark in his abdomen, beaming brighter and heavier by the second as he pumped in and out of you.
“Oh fuck, I’m close baby. Gonna take all of me? Take all my cum like a good girl?”
You nodded, eyes clamped shut and keening at the praise. You held him tightly, pressing him into you like a weighted blanket as with every thrust he brought you closer to the edge as well.
“You’re close too. You’re squeezing around me. Hold off babygirl, cum with me. Like the romantics do.”
You would’ve laughed if you were able. Instead you moaned. Whined right into his ear. He made a keened sound in response, lifting himself up onto his knees and guiding your leg onto his shoulder. The veins in his arms stuck out against the muscle and pulsed, his pecs rippled with every movement. His dick went deeper with the new angle, knocking your breath from your lungs with each time his tip barrelled into you. You cried out, locking your other leg around his waist and trapping him as close to you as you could, all while he continued to thrust, the pace unchanged and sending you both towards your climax.
His groans grew louder as you tightened around him with every squeeze on your neck, every time he pounded into you and your pussy clamped down as if to keep him there forever.
It was a few minutes of steady pumps of his dick, creeping closer to your orgasm but without the final push to send you over the edge and into the waves. Your voice was growing hoarse from the tireless whines and moans you’d let out at the pleasure of his cock, and you could feel your limbs growing tired, fatigue settling bone deep. But still you persevered. He did too. Your bodies were covered in sweat, the salty liquid settling into the divots of your muscles and rolling down his abs, drenching your hairline.
It was a specific move he did. He took his hand off your neck for a moment to settle it down on your waist with his other one. He pushed your waist onto his cock rather than meeting his cock into you, and the different angle that move offered made you gasp louder than you had the entire night. He’d hit your g-spot. He stilled for a moment, then thrusted with renewed vigour, going just as hard as he had in the beginning. Your moans were so loud you could feel your throat drying up from constantly being open, but you didn’t care in the moment.
Moving like that, right into the spot inside where you were most sensitive had you coming. Your orgasm crashed into you, gushing around his cock like a tidal wave. Your brain turned to mush, whiting out your vision and causing a buzzing in your ears. Your entire body squirmed in his hold as he thrusted into you through your orgasm, pushing more slick out of you. The sheer amount of it completely wetted his pelvis, dripping down past his dick and balls to settle into the blankets.
He all but whined at the sensation of you having the orgasm of your life on his dick. If you had any neighbours nearby they most definitely would’ve heard you coming on him, and that puffed up his ego to the stars. He still kept moving, your slick frothing around his cock in squelching noises to rival the most depraved of porn. It was better than porn, because here he was moaning uncharacteristically high pitched as the spark in his gut finally exploded like a busted fuse.
"F-fuck. I'm coming, babygirl. I'm coming."
His orgasm lasted what felt like forever. Ropes of thick cum pumped into you as he moved until the overstimulation forced him out of you. His dick was soft, finally sated. A steady dribble of cum leaked out of you, and although his dick was done for the night, the sight of his release oozing out of you in an unbroken stream made him drool.
Your brain and vision had returned to the land of the living, so you spied him adjusting his mask to show his mouth fully. The inside of his mouth glistened with saliva, and he kneeled down to put his face near your thighs. You whined at the sight, too overstimulated to be eaten out, but he ignored your wordless pleas.
He licked up your centre, dragging his cum through your pussy up to your clit, which had you wincing and screeching through gritted teeth at the pain. He rolled his tongue back into his mouth and grinned at the taste. Even though it was mostly his cum, the tangy sweet undertone of your arousal complemented the salt of his perfectly.
He kept his tonguing ventures strictly to around your hole after that, digging out his own release with his tongue and licking it down his throat. The stimulation made you whine hoarsely, but you were too tired to react, letting him crudely clean you up.
The grand finale of the night came after he’d licked up every drop of your combined arousal. He’d dug into you one final time with his tongue, then moved up to meet his face to yours. You stared at him blearily, noting his mouth and lips were in an odd position, like he was keeping something in his mouth. He gently pressed his lips to yours, his tongue poking through the seam of your lips and through your open teeth, depositing the salty and tangy mix of your cum onto your tongue.
You didn’t flinch at the way his tongue massaged the inside of your mouth, spreading your cum around your tastebuds. He pulled back, shutting your jaw with his thumb and watched as you swallowed the liquid, a glimmer in your tired eyes. You smiled up at him.
"Satisfied?"
He took the mask off fully, showing his face, and kissed you again, just as sweetly.
"You live another day, baby."
Everything pointed to a perfect movie night.
Freshly popped popcorn prepared by your boyfriend on the stove, butter and salt sticking to the white kernels. An array of fluffy colourful blankets neatly folded on the cushion beside the place where you’d both sit, you setting up the original Scream on the joint netflix account.
Maki rushed over with the popcorn he’d tossed with the flavourings like a professional chef, you sneaking a couple of pieces before he’d even sat down. He snickered and kissed your temple before slumping beside you with the popcorn still in hand, the topmost layer almost spilling out onto the floor. He passed you the bowl while he stretched to get the blankets, fluffing them out and draping them across your laps.
“Did you enjoy last night?” he asked.
You looked at him, the tingling ache in your nether regions having not ceased. You’d spent the whole day unable to walk after he’d ravaged you like an animal the night before, relying on him to hoist you up in the shower while he washed you off, to pick you up in a heart fluttering princess carry downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast and lunch, and mercifully taking it upon himself to fold last night’s laundry after he’d changed the blankets. Those muscles… the memories came back, and you blushed.
“It was the best.”
He grinned wickedly, that cheeky, cocky smile you loved so much and had felt against your skin once he’d pulled that mask up.
“It was funny hearing you say you could fuck me better than yourself.”
He burst out a single humourless laugh, then snickered. “Hey, the only person I’ll let fuck you better than me, is me.”
You smiled and stole a piece of popcorn. “Did you enjoy it?”
“The mask got hot real fast baby. That’s why I had it up the whole time.”
“Really? So it wasn’t to worship me with kisses?” You feigned hurt, placing the back of your hand on your forehead.
“Nah, kissing you isn’t all that, to be honest.” His grin took up half his face.
You slapped him on the arm, your other hand cradling the popcorn and moving it away from where he could reach. He laughed and kissed your temple again, the affection softening the scene.
You looked deep into the pools of his eyes that swam with ardour. And kissed him. Chastely. Softly. A far cry from the animalistic rampage he’d gifted you last night. He tasted like butter and salt, his skin warm and inviting.
It ended as soon as it began, leaving the both of you smiling.
genre: brother's best friend, fluff, younger boy x older girl, slightly suggestive but not that much, the reader is lowkey mean (if there's anything else pls lmkkk)
It was a simple, normal day.
Maki was at his friend Woonhak’s place, the two of them sprawled on the living room floor, half-focused on their phones and half-focused on the sandwiches Woonhak’s mom had made. They were warm, slightly messy, and honestly way better than anything Maki ever made at home.
“This is so good,” Maki mumbled around a bite.
“I know, right?” Woonhak grinned.
Just then, a voice called out from the kitchen.
“Woon baby, come here lil bit!”
Woonhak immediately groaned. “She only calls me that when she wants something,” he said, as he stood up.
“Okay, Mom - yo, I’ll be back in a sec.”
He disappeared down the hallway, leaving Maki alone on the floor with his sandwich and the soft, homey quiet of the house.
From the kitchen, he could hear Woonhak’s mom talking animatedly, Woonhak responding with his usual half-whining, half-affectionate tone. Maki smiled to himself. And then, out of nowhere-
“Oh- who are you?”
Maki nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned around, startled, only to find you standing a few steps away, arms crossed, clearly amused by his reaction.
“Um- who are you?” Maki blurted out, still processing the sudden appearance.
You raised an eyebrow. “Dude, not you coming to my place and asking who I am.”
Before Maki could respond, Woonhak walked back in, wiping his hands on a towel.
“Oh - Maki, this is Y/n. My sister.”
Maki froze. “Oh.”
Your lips curved into a knowing smile. “Ohhh, so this is that friend of yours, huh?”
Maki nodded a little too fast, still confused, his brain clearly lagging behind the conversation.
“I thought she was in Canada,” he whispered to Woonhak, leaning closer.
“Yeah,” Woonhak whispered back. “She came back yesterday.”
You laughed softly, watching the two of them, your eyes lingering on Maki just a second longer than necessary.
A few minutes later, Woonhak’s mom called out from the dining area,
“Food’s ready! Come eat before it gets cold.”
You all gathered around the table, plates already laid out, the smell of home-cooked food instantly making Maki sit up straighter. He slid into his seat beside Woonhak, still low-key processing the whole surprise sister situation.
Just as they were about to start, You walked in, eyes lighting up.
“Wahhh, I missed your cooking, Mom,” you said dramatically, leaning down to kiss your mom’s temple.
Your mom laughed, patting your cheek. “You say that every time you come back.”
“It’s because it’s true,” You replied easily, taking the seat across from Maki.
Maki suddenly became very aware of his posture. And his hands. And the fact that he didn’t know where to look.
As they ate, your mom looked over at Maki with gentle concern.
“Maki, dear, how are your parents doing?”
Maki paused for a second before answering, then smiled politely.
“They’re good. They went to Germany again - work stuff. They’ll be back in a month or two.”
Her chopsticks froze mid-air. “Oh my god,” she said immediately. “Does that mean you’re going to be living alone?”
Maki nodded, the same small smile still on his face.
“Yeah.”
Woonhak frowned. “Again? You’re way too used to this.”
“I’m fine,” Maki said quickly, almost automatically. “Really.”
Your mom set her spoon down, thinking for a moment, then looked straight at Maki.
“The guest room is free, you know,” she said casually. “Why don’t you stay here while your parents are away?”
Maki’s eyes widened. “Ah - no, it’s okay, auntie, I don’t want to-”
Before he could finish, Woonhak leaned forward immediately. “No, seriously. Stay. It’ll be fun. We can actually eat proper food instead of instant noodles every day.”
Maki hesitated, glancing around, unsure- until his eyes met Yours. You just shrugged lightly, a small smile on your face.
“I don’t mind,” you said. “You already passed the surprise-guest test.”
Maki let out a quiet laugh, then shook his head. “I don’t want to intrude.”
Your mom waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense,” she said firmly but kindly. “You’re not intruding. You’re like a family member to us.”
Something in Maki’s chest tightened at that. He looked down for a second, then nodded slowly.
“Okay,” he said, smiling, softer than before.
Woonhak grinned triumphantly. “See? Done. You’re stuck with us now.”
You laughed under her breath.
Well, since Maki and Woonhak had already been planning a sleepover that day, Maki ended up staying over without much more debate.
After dinner, Your mom started clearing the table. “Don’t stay up too late,” she warned, already knowing they wouldn’t listen.
“Yes, ma’am,” Woonhak said automatically.
You stretched as you stood up. “I’m exhausted. Jet lag is actually trying to kill me.” you glanced briefly at Maki before heading down the hall. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Maki replied, a little quieter than intended.
Soon, it was just the two of them again. The lights in the living room dimmed, a movie queued up, blankets pulled over their legs. Woonhak sprawled across the couch while Maki sat cross-legged, bowl of popcorn balanced in his lap.
“Movie night,” Woonhak said proudly.
Sometime during the movie, Maki’s throat went dry. He shifted, then whispered, “I’ll be right back,” even though Woonhak was already half-slumped beside him.
He waited a second.
Nothing.
Woonhak was completely knocked out, mouth slightly open, the movie still playing to an audience of zero. Maki smiled to himself, carefully pulling the blanket up over him before standing.
He padded quietly to the kitchen, trying not to make a sound.
And then he froze.
You were sitting on the kitchen counter, one leg swinging lazily, a glass of water in your hand. The overhead light was off - only the soft glow from the fridge and the hallway light outlined you.
“Oh, hi,” you said, sounding just as surprised and not surprised at all.
Maki blinked. “Oh - hi.” He paused, then gestured awkwardly toward the cabinet. “I was just getting water.”
“Same,” you said, lifting your glass slightly.
Maki grabbed a cup of water and leaned against the counter next to you, close but relaxed. He took a sip, then spoke like it was the most casual thing in the world.
“By the way, I was gonna ask something,” he said.
You looked at him. “Yeah?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
You blinked, clearly caught off guard. The shy, quiet boy from earlier - the one who barely knew where to put his hands at the dinner table - was suddenly gone.
"Wow,” you said, laughing a little. “That was unexpected. Why?”
Maki tilted his head, completely unfazed. “God forbid a guy being interested.”
You chuckled, shaking you head. “Okay, fair enough. Well - nope. Nope. I’m single.”
Maki nodded once, like he was filing that information away. “Interested in anyone?”
You raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “Straight to the follow-up question?”
“Just curious,” he said, shrugging.
“No,” you replied easily. “Not interested in anyone either.”
“Oh,” Maki said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You stayed like that for a moment, just holding eye contact. Maki’s gaze drifted ever so slightly, down to your lips. You noticed immediately and smirked, a teasing sparkle in your eyes.
“Well then,” you said, hopping off the counter, “I’mma go sleep. Finish the movie, baby.”
With that, you sauntered down the hallway toward her room, the faint echo of her footsteps fading.
Maki watched you go, a small, amused smirk tugging at his lips. Then, shaking his head slightly, he smiled to himself, feeling lighter than he had all day.
Turning back to the living room, he sank into the couch beside Woonhak, grabbed the remote, and let the movie play - except now, he couldn’t stop replaying that little smirk in his mind.
Morning came faster than Maki realized, sunlight spilling through the curtains and warming the living room.
“Hey, sleepyhead!” Woonhak’s voice rang out, slightly louder than necessary. Maki stirred, groaning, still tangled in the blanket. “Ugh five more minutes,” he mumbled, eyes barely open.
“Too late,” Woonhak laughed, shaking him gently. “You have to wake up. Breakfast’s ready.”
Maki rubbed his eyes, finally sitting up. “Alright, alright I’m up,” he said, a small smile creeping onto his face despite the morning haze.
The smell of toast and something sweet drifted from the kitchen, making it impossible to resist getting out of bed. Even half-asleep, Maki felt that warm, easy comfort of being at Woonhak’s place - like the night before hadn’t just been a sleepover, but a little moment he didn’t want to forget.
After brushing their teeth and taking quick showers, Woonhak and Maki made their way to the dining table.
You and your mom were already there, sitting close together, deep in what looked like a serious conversation. But the moment you heard the boys coming in, both immediately straightened up and smiled.
“Oh, good morning, babies!” your mom greeted warmly, her eyes lighting up at the sight of them.
Maki nodded politely, trying not to look too sleepy. “Good morning, auntie.”
“How was your sleep, Maki?” she asked, leaning slightly forward, genuinely curious.
Maki smiled softly, his hands folded neatly on his lap. “It was really good, auntie. Thank you for asking.”
You glanced up from her plate, giving him a small, amused smile, and Maki felt his cheeks warm ever so slightly - but he kept his expression calm, trying not to look too flustered.
this fic was supposed to posted in february and i lost the motivation to write cause i started out of nowhere without even planning a plot? but yeah im gonna post this cause the no. of drafts are stressing me out. and its bad i know.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Tags: smut, so much smut, dubious consent, death threats, slight horror, grinding, finger sucking, breast play, oral (m and f rec), unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, cum swallowing, praise, multiple orgasms, facefucking, subspce elements, cheating (or is it?), fluff at the end
wc: 11,125 (when I say that like 8,000 words of this is some kind of smut)
No names are mentioned in this until the last scene, it could really be anyone you want if you ignore the end
Written for @makizdoll because she put the idea of a ghostface!Maki in my head. Sorry for the wait queen
Also I haven't written smut in years so this was a challenge for me. Sorry in advance if that shows lol
Everything pointed to a great movie night.
The first Scream movie fired up on the TV, the comfiest blankets and cushions set up on the couch, the warmest, butteriest popcorn fresh out the microwave, steaming hot and salty.
You took the bowl to the couch in the living room, turning off the lights to the adjacent kitchen to enjoy the horror movie in the dark like god intended, and settled into the warm fuzziness of the blankets. The title card blared on the TV screen as you slipped the first piece of popcorn into your mouth, the flavour spreading across your tongue as the opening sequence played.
Eerily similar to you, Drew Barrymore was firing up some popcorn to watch a movie. Not so similar to you, her popcorn making experience was cut short by a random man calling her landline, taunting her with threatening conversation, before chasing her around her house and killing her.
You smiled as the opening credits rolled. The original Scream was a favourite of yours to watch when you needed a rush in your veins. Although now, with the amount of times you’d seen it, the scares had lost their sharp edge. Each kill made you smile in fond nostalgia for the time you watched for the first time and fell in love with the genre of horror. The thrill the suspenseful music evoked as it peaked and waned, only to peak again in a jumpscare that made your heart skip a beat.
The movie was a quieter part when you felt your phone ring from underneath the blankets. Assuming it was a call from a friend or your boyfriend, you paused the movie and fished it from its fabric prison. You missed the critically low battery notification, too focused on the fact it was an unknown number.
No funny nickname or inside joke, just a string of numbers that could’ve been anyone. Certainly not someone you knew. But for whatever reason, you accepted the call. You could probably have some fun with this. Kill some time, maybe even prank someone.
You held the phone to your ear.
Silence. Or, almost silence.
The person on the other end of the call was just breathing heavily.
The first few seconds, there was nothing.
“Hello?”
Still nothing, just heaving breath.
“Hello?” you repeated.
The seconds dragged on. Still nothing. You were about to hang up and go back to your movie when-
“Hello.” The voice was deep. Dark.
“Who is this?” You asked.
“Who is this?” The caller asked back, a teasing lilt in their voice.
“How am I supposed to know who you are?”
“I don’t know.”
The call fell to silence.
“Hm. I may have dialed the wrong number.”
“You probably did. It happens. See ya.” You cut the call off and threw your phone a little way away from you on the blankets.
It wasn’t ten seconds before your phone buzzed again. You groaned, stretching to reach it, to find the same string of numbers on the screen. Again, for some unknown reason, you answered.
“Hello?”
“Oh. Sorry, I must’ve dialed the wrong number again.” The voice didn’t sound the least bit sorry.
“Why’d you do it again then?”
“Probably an accident. My fingers are a little big.”
That was weird information. Still, he spoke again.
“Am I forgiven?”
“I guess? Have a nice night now.”
“Wait!”
He sounded like they really wanted to talk with you.
“Yes what? I’m trying to watch a movie.”
“Oh, cool? Which one?”
“Scream. The original one.”
“Oh yeah, that’s the one with the weird dudes in those ghost masks right?”
“Yeah, ghostface.”
“That your favourite one?”
“Yeah, but what did you want to talk about? We don’t know each other.”
“I’d like to. You sound pretty.”
“Pretty.” However much you should be feeling creeped out by now was overshadowed by your confusion.
“Yeah, pretty. Cute, even.”
You forced out a laugh.
“So, you got a boyfriend?”
“Yes, I do. And he could beat your ass.”
“Oh, he couldn’t. And I’d be better.”
“Better at what?”
“Being your boyfriend.”
That made you splutter. “I don’t know your face or name, what makes you think-”
“I don’t know your name either, but I’m still looking at you.”
Your blood turned to ice. You frantically kicked off the blankets and ran to the window behind your sink, cursing the fact the blinds were broken and wouldn’t roll down.
“Your ass looks good in those shorts, cutie.”
“What the fuck?!”
“Now that’s no way to talk. Should I give you a lesson?”
“You need a lesson on how not to be a creepy perv!”
“I’ll enroll later, after I teach you something.”
You were getting annoyed. “You’re all talk.”
A deep chuckle. “I make good on my promises, cutie. The lesson will be a long and hard one, but it’ll be worth your while.” He placed emphasis on the words ‘long’ and ‘hard’, making it obvious what the ‘lesson’ would be.
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Before you go”
You paused.
“Look at the forest outside your kitchen. Properly.”
Your breath hitched. Slowly, you turned around and crept towards the window. Lo and behold, if you really focused your attention on the tree in the middle of the window, you could see a figure standing beside it in a black robe.
And a ghostface mask.
Your gasp was evident. The man on the other end chuckled again.
“See you soon cutie.”
The call ended, your phone choosing the perfect time to go flat.
“No! No, no, no, no…” you frantically tried to press the power button, to squeeze some juice out of your phone, but the phone screen remained as dark as the night outside. You looked up and raced to the window, trying to spot the man in the distance, but to no avail.
He was gone.
On the move.
Hunting you down to do god knows what to you.
Your house was new, modern enough that when you bought it the home phone hadn’t been working for years and no one had bothered to fix it due to being in the age of smartphone use. You kicked yourself for it now, the ancient thing somewhere in the garage collecting dust and leaving you with no way to call the police except to wait for your phone to charge.
You leaned over the sink in a panic, making sure the latch on the window was shut tight. It was, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other ways in. Thankfully the front door was just past the living room where your movie was still paused, so you ran over and twisted the doorknob. It was locked, thankfully.
You ran upstairs, almost tripping over your own feet on the carpet to reach your bedroom. There were three windows upstairs that could be used to potentially break in. One in your bedroom, another in the upstairs bathroom, and one in the guest bedroom. You quickly fished out your phone changer from the crack behind your bed and plugged it in, but there was no time to sit and wait. The window in your bedroom was taken care of already, but you tested it again just to make sure.
You tried sliding it. Lo and behold, it didn’t budge. Your bedroom was safe at least. But there were still two upstairs windows to go. The closest one was the bathroom. You ran out of your bedroom, making it to the bathroom in a record time and stepping into the bath situated at the far wall. The window was slightly above the eye level of the bath, perfect for perching your hair products on in the rare event you actually took one. Again, you tried sliding it, and again, it didn’t budge. It probably hadn’t been unlatched in years.
You stepped out of the bath, now barreling down the hallway to the guest bedroom. It was a plain thing, lacking any of the personality your personal bedroom had, but it worked for people only spending a night or two in your home. The white curtains were drawn and unmoving, implying the window behind them was still shut so the wind didn’t blow. Still, you had to check.
The curtains peeled back with ease, showing a closed window and no creepy man in a ghostface costume with a knife looming at you through the glass. You checked the latch. Safe. You allowed yourself a breath of relief.
Except, all too perfectly, the light in the guest bedroom switched off.
Plunged in darkness, your heart started to pound again, pure panic flooding your brain as you moved in a mix between a stagger and a run, manoeuvring around the foot of the bed in the centre of the room to frantically switch the light back on. You flicked it, over and over again.
The room remained dark.
The power must’ve gone out.
How? It wasn’t a stormy night and there wasn’t any maintenance scheduled for your area.
But then you realised something.
You sprinted down the upstairs hallway, not giving your eyes time to get used to the darkness that blanketed your house. It was by sheer miracle you felt the banister of the stairs under your hand before you fell face first down them and crippled yourself with a murderer on the loose. You padded down the stairs as quickly as you could, downstairs similarly covered in darkness now with the TV turned off.
Rather than going right where the TV was, you went left. Out to the back room, with the couch, another TV, shelves with wine and the pool table. But dead centre, the gateway to your backyard,
The back door. Wide open.
You stopped, your heart jumping to your throat as your eyes stung with tears. Shit. The back door was always locked. You never had any need to use the backyard except when company was over, and that happened occasionally at most. There should’ve been no way the back door was open.
But it was. And it meant one thing.
The creepy guy with the knife was in your house.
Your breath stuttered. The only noise in the entire house was that of the soft wind blowing in through the open door. Too terrified to make a noise, your body froze, listening out for any sounds coming from your blind spots as you stared at your backyard in the distance. Even turning your head felt like it would be as loud as a rocket taking off.
You didn’t know how long you were there for, stifling cries as tears rolled down your cheeks and every nerve of your body was on edge, waiting for something to strike out of the darkness. You covered your mouth with your hands, your breath hitching when so much as the wind blew a different way.
But it remained quiet. Silent as the night itself.
Whoever was here, was lurking. Waiting.
And you couldn’t take the waiting game anymore.
You slowly padded over to the door, the wind icy cold on your skin as you shut it in miniscule increments. But finally, after an eternity, it shuffled shut. You clicked the lock into place, forgetting it made a noise as it did.
The click was deafening in the quiet. Another surge of ice bolted through you as you immediately turned away from the door to watch the rest of the house. Now that your eyes were used to the darkness, a cursory glance was all you needed.
The figure in the mask stood in the corner of the room you were in.
His head was cocked to one side, as if surveying when you’d finally notice his presence. You couldn’t see his face under the mask, but you could bet he was smiling. Wickedly. A deep laugh echoed through the otherwise silent room.
“Go on, cutie. Give me a chase.”
Your legs, which had been as useful as tree trunks, snapped out of the ‘freeze’ response they’d been locked in, and you bolted. He laughed again as he watched you leave, giving you a head start you didn’t have time to notice. All you could do was run through the back room, through the kitchen, to the front living room where you almost knocked your body into the couch.
You felt the back cushions of the couch just before you ran into it, pivoting left and launching yourself at the steps, luckily finding the banister to aid you in your mission to get to your bedroom and find your phone to call the police. Your legs rocketed you up the stairs, your rapid breathing and frantic steps preventing you from hearing your pursuers footsteps echoing against the tiled floor of the kitchen.
It was obvious where you were going, and he treated it almost like a game. A game he knew he was going to win. But you clung to that small shred of hope that you could make it to your phone, then to a room with a door that locked.
You burst into your bedroom, slamming the door shut and raced to your bed in the centre of the far wall. You felt around the blankets in the dark for your phone, an excruciating few seconds of searching passing before your hands found the solid weight. You pressed the power button, your phone thankfully starting up, but it would take at least a few minutes to fully charge up. You unplugged your phone and ran to your door to open it, but before you could,
It opened by itself.
And the figure walked in.
His looming shadow was obvious against the wall of the hallway even in the dark. He stepped through the threshold slowly, taking in the darkness.
Your breath hitched, letting him know exactly where you were. Your phone lit up, the colours of the logo shining into your skin and lighting your terrified expression for him to see in the small beam of white light.
“Too slow, cutie.”
With movements too fast for your brain to comprehend, he turned you around so that your back was against his front, your phone dropping to the floor in the process, and wrapped his arms around you.
One around your waist and the other loosely around your face, his hand over your mouth to silence you.
That woke you up.
You screamed into his hand, the noise dulled to nothing outside of the tight cocoon the man at your back created for you. You tried to move, thrash your arms and legs around, but the arms around you were deceptively bulky. Strong. You weren’t getting out of his hold unless he permitted it, but that didn’t stop you from trying.
Attempts at punches and kicks flew at him from all the directions you could reach as your screams continued, vibrating into his hand. Not one blow landed, not with him in your blind spot. They weren’t able to do any damage anyway. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the initial panic response and adrenaline started to fade from your body. You could feel it. The fight slowly leaving you, giving way to exhaustion as your lungs heaved for air.
You slumped in his hold, still conscious but wishing you weren’t. Wishing you were far away from whatever this bastard was going to do to you. A sound came from underneath his mask. A chuckle.
“Haha, that was a cute fight, cutie. But unfortunately…”
The hand at your mouth moved to tilt your head up to his.
“I’m stronger than you.”
His hold on you proved it. Ironclad and impenetrable. Impossible to break from. You could feel them on your stomach and waist. Hard muscles poked through the thin robe, pressing tightly against your skin and keeping you glued to his front. He was strong, and you had no way out.
With your mouth now free, you wanted to scream. But your still out of breath condition forced you away from it. Any attempt was fruitless. You lived alone. You were alone.
With this unknown man.
“Please don’t kill me.” your voice was small.
He laughed, that deep bass reverberating through the mask. “Kill you? Cutie I don’t want to kill you.”
You felt a cool sensation at your neck, his mask pressing into it to whisper into your ear.
“I want to teach you that lesson.”
You gasped. The hand at your chin left it, trailing down your jaw to rest at your pulse point, chuckling at the race of your heartbeat through the skin. Down the slope of your neck, your collarbone, feeling the softness of you under his fingers.
He was right on the phone call. They were big. And thorough, if the snail’s pace his fingers were tracking down your body signalled anything. They trailed down your collarbone, traced the slope of your cleavage, dipped into your nightshirt. He cupped your breast in his hand and gave it a light squeeze, letting out a harsh breath at the feeling. His fingers edged your nipple, close enough to tease but not enough to touch. His other arm, the one firmly locked around your waist, let up the most miniscule bit, his hand squishing the side of your waist. Feeling the plush of your body in his hold.
Soon enough, the hand that had been trailing down your body joined it. Resting both hands on your waist. He pressed your ass into his body, your thin sleep shorts that barely covered your ass rubbing up against his jeans. They were as rough as you expected denim to be, but there was a large bulge in the middle of it.
Damn it, you were starting to slip.
“There’s something… poking me.” You whispered.
He laughed, pressing his mask further into your neck. “What do you think that is, cutie?”
You knew what it was. You weren’t an idiot. This man had somehow gotten hard at some point in the night, and was coming to collect some relief. He ground your hips into his, making small circles that slotted the bulge of his dick right between your ass cheeks. He hummed at the pressure, pulling you deeper into him. This wasn’t enough for him, not by a long shot, but he relished in the thrill of the tease and chase. He’d let it go on as long as he could.
“Answer me, cutie. What’s that I’m pressing into your ass?”
You babbled at first, but you swallowed your fears. “Your dick. That’s your dick.”
“Yeah it is.” One of his hands shifted upwards. “On second thoughts…” he stopped grinding into your hips to fake ponder his next words. A bolt of something between fear and hope shot through your heart, your logic and hope at war with each other at what he could be second guessing.
“I might kill you after all.”
You gasped again, your heart speeding up. You prepared to beg, but he spoke again.
“Unless you satisfy me well enough.” Huh?
“What?” your voice was tinged, on the verge of tears.
“Be a good enough girl for me and I’ll keep you alive. Would be a waste gutting some good pussy.” His hand shot up to your chin again, grasping your face tightly.
“I-I have a boyfriend.” you tried to plead.
“Remember what I said on the call, cutie? I would be better for you.” His fingers dipped into the waistband of your shorts for a split second, making you shiver, then took them back out. “And this is your life on the line, cutie? Are you gonna die to remain loyal to some mediocre dick?”
You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. He knew.
“So are you gonna be a good girl for me?”
You nodded slowly, settling into your fate.
“Good.” Still in the dark, his hands left your body. Then you heard shuffling.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking off this robe, cutie. Figured you might like me if I like you so much.”
“But the lights are still off.”
He laughed. “Nah, they turned back on once you got to your room. I saw your TV turn on.”
The shuffling stopped. Then his arms found you again. He hugged you, softly, like he was a boyfriend backhugging his girlfriend at the supermarket while begging for snacks. Rather than feeling fabric against your back, you felt warm skin. One hand fondled your waist, the other rubbed your ribcage, barely grazing the bottom of your breast underneath your nightshirt. But that was only some of the things to focus on.
You could feel his abs pressed against your back. Hard muscle separated by harsh divots in the skin. Your breath hitched. No wonder you weren’t able to get him off you. Between the shifting muscles in his arms, his tough hands squeezing you, and the washboard at your back, he was jacked. The kind of man who could use his girlfriend as a weight at the gym. The kind who could toss her around any which way he wanted, and be strong enough to pin her down and silence any discussion about it.
He swayed you gently in his arms like a bastardised slow dance. Your hands had hung limply at your sides all this time, but the feeling of him, his warmth, all around you had woken them up. You had to please him. Your life was on the line. You knew he’d be patient only for so long. So you finally moved your arms.
You placed your hands on his arms, finally feeling his biceps in their entirety. Up until now, you’d only felt the muscle at your torso while he caged you into him, but now you could truly explore. Hopefully he’d get a kick out of it. You wrapped your hands around his biceps, gasping in awe at the sheer thickness of them. Hard as granite under your palms and fingers.
“Aww, you like my arms, cutie?” you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Mhm.”
“That’s cute. But I’m gonna speed things up now. You just take it for me.”
He left no time for your response as he suddenly completely changed where he was on your body. He pressed his fingers against your lips, silently demanding entrance to your mouth. You obliged, opening up and letting his fingers sink into your mouth. He immediately choked you with his fingers, slipping them all the way back to your throat and laughed at how your throat constricted around the pads of his fingertips.
“Get them wet for me, cutie. Gonna need it.”
He pulled them out of your throat, settling them over your tongue. You swirled your tongue around them, laving them in the saliva that coated your tongue more and more the longer they remained in your mouth. You slowly bobbed your head the small distance you could, getting used to the pressure of his fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around the tips of his fingers, at their most sensitive and attuned to the tightness of your mouth.
You hollowed your mouth, sucking his fingers in deeper and bobbing your head harder, saliva starting to drip down his fingers and onto his hand. He groaned, the feeling a precursor to how his dick would feel in your mouth. You purposefully spit more onto his fingers as they left your mouth so the saliva ran in faster rivulets down his palm. You closed your eyes, choosing to only focus on the weight of his thick fingers on your tongue while you held onto the muscular arms wrapped around you.
His other hand, which had been still at your waist, moved. It trailed up your ribcage, slowly memorising how the bumps felt under your skin and his, before slipping underneath your nightshirt. He traced the curve of the underside of your breast before his palm cupped it, squeezing it lightly. The flesh moulded itself to his hand, yielding to his hold. You squeaked, the small vibration from your throat felt on his fingers, and he grinned wickedly under the mask.
He took your nipple between two fingers, rubbing and pinching the bud as it grew hard at the stimulation. You moaned and bucked your hips, his grin widening at the your hips brushing his dick. From then on, it was dual stimulation.
He started to thrust his fingers inside your mouth. Hard and rough. You choked on every pass he made, making you whine out. He tweaked your nipple between his fingers, stretching it and pinching it in equal, and rubbing it to soothe you when he felt nice. Waves of pleasure ran down your spine and pooled in your panties at the harsh treatment, your brain focusing on the rush of pain that came with having your breasts fondled so harshly. Your boyfriend was always so gentle with you, kissing you tenderly and treating you with care. But this man wasn’t. He was treating you like a stress toy.
With every choke on his fingertips, you made a gulping noise as you swallowed around him. He was grinding up against you now, his hips swiftly moving in time with the thrusts of his fingers. His dick was hard enough that you could feel it even through your clothes, and it didn’t feel small. It seemed to take up almost the entire length of your ass, and the idea of all that dick being inside you shamefully made you even wetter. His breathing grew heavier as your saliva ran down his wrist, soaking his fingers.
You moaned a particularly needy whine, squirming in his hold as the assault on your tits and mouth reached a breaking point. Finally, he retracted his fingers from your mouth, leaving you panting.
“Fuck, so wet for me.” His voice was strained, holding up his fingers that would glisten if the lights were on. “I’ll turn the lights on.”
You whined as his other hand left your breast, your right nipple puffy and sore. He somehow made his way perfectly over to your bedside lamp, then switched it on, bathing the room in a golden glow. Now able to see, your mouth dropped when you saw him.
He was exactly what his physique had felt like. Strong, sculpted with muscles more befitting of a greek god than anything resembling man. His biceps flexed almost automatically, like they had a mind of their own, shifting in the light of your lamp. His abs too, simply feeling them in the dark didn’t do them justice. Hard planes of muscle separated by deep divots that were exactly the washboard you’d envisioned. You failed not to look down at them, unable to control your drooling at the dusting of dark hair underneath his belly button, teasing into the waistband of his jeans.
This man could fold you six ways to Sunday, and you’d thank him. His fingers still glistened with your saliva, the trails shining gold down his hand and wrist.
He chuckled at your reaction. The pupils in your eyes should be smaller now due to you facing the light, but they remained as blown wide as ever. You were nothing less than awed at his physique, distracted by the ripple of his muscles and bounce of his pecs as he laughed. The mask had a fabric lining that extended down, some of it falling into his cleavage.
“Told you you’d like me, cutie.” He paused, looking you up and down in the light now too.
Your sleep shirt was rumpled from his fiddling with your breast, saliva shined on your bottom lip and dripped down your chin, your eyes were lidded and dark. Your shorts had ridden up your thighs and ass, a feat almost deserving of praise considering how small they already were before, revealing all the exposed skin he could sink his teeth into. You were short too, he could easily pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.
But he refrained.
He instead walked around behind you, taking you into his arms again. He pressed his fingers up to your mouth again, coating them in a fresh layer of your saliva before sticking them down your shorts. Past your underwear. His slick fingers met your pussy, a deep laugh rumbling from his throat when you gasped at the sudden action.
Even with the saliva on his fingers, he could tell the wetness he found was also your body’s reaction to his earlier ministrations. He peeled back your folds to reach your centre, rubbing his fingers up and down slowly, smearing your combined slick and saliva around your pussy. He rubbed in teasing motions, just barely nudging your clit before stroking down to your hole, dipping a fraction of his thick fingertip inside you before pulling it out.
You whined at his teasing. He was an expert in dealing almosts. He brushed up against the parts of your body that were growing to ache the most, only to pull away at the last second. You grew wetter at his touch, but just as desperate. With every pass of his fingers rubbing you at the edge of where you needed, your breathing became heavier, studded with moans. After his touches on your breast, and now the teasing on your pussy, you became impatient.
“Please touch me…”
“I am touching you, baby. Where do you want me the most?”
Baby. The nickname your boyfriend called you. It brought him to mind, but you couldn’t focus on him now. This man had wormed his way into your panties, you couldn’t be thinking of another right now.
“My clit. Please.” You stuttered out your response.
“Aww. Your cute little clit needs me? Adorable. Alright then. Just make sure to moan for me.”
Somewhere after the end of his sentence, you realised he’d partially lifted up his mask. Not enough to see any of his face, especially when he was behind you, but just enough to expose his mouth to your skin. You felt his mouth on your neck, pressing small kisses into the skin that you could almost mistake for loving if it weren’t for the plastic of the ghost face mask nudging your chin. The kisses were soft caresses, slowly growing into deeper, open mouthed kisses that made small squelches when he pulled back.
His fingers on your pussy moved upwards. For a moment you feared he’d pull back on his word and continue to tease you, just with the olive branch of neck kisses to soothe you, but he didn’t. On the up swipe, his middle finger went high enough to catch onto your clit.
You moaned aloud. Your clit felt every single microscopic ridge in his fingertip as he circled the bud, every nerve catching alight. You welcomed the touch, squirming from the pleasure rather than the desperation of being edged. His finger traced circles around your clit, even rubbing the extra sensitive spot between your clit and your clitoral hood, a spot that made you tremble in his hold. Your legs shook, now relying on him to hold you upright. The neck kisses had evolved from loving, ghostly touches to harsh attacks. He sucked red and purple marks all across your neck, ravaging every centimetre of untouched skin he could feasibly reach. He bit along the crook of your shoulder, licked a particularly purple hickey on the base of your neck, sucked on the sensitive spot near your pulse point.
Your hips bucked up as you moaned loudly, the stable touches on your clit pulling you towards orgasm. He rutted into your ass, groaning into the crook of your neck as he panted between kisses. The sign of his pleasure, simply from giving you yours, made your orgasm come closer. Then his fingers went downwards.
You whined at the loss of pleasure on your clit, the bundle of nerves throbbing from the assault it had just taken. His fingers travelled down and stopped at your hole, his middle fingers stopping and swirling slick around it. Your panties were drenched now, rubbing their hot dampness all over his fingers, but he wanted to feel the inside. They’d already felt your mouth, and how wet and hot it could be, but he knew your pussy was the real gold of your body.
He pushed a finger in, your breath hitching at the sheer thickness. It was thicker than your own fingers, stretching you out with one the same way you needed two of your own to do. The amount of slick you’d produced aided him, but the stretch was palpable. He groaned at how tight you were, sucking him in and holding him tight. There was almost no place for him to move, and it was still only one finger. He swore with a breathy tone to his voice, as if he were in awe at the sensation.
“Fuck, so tight for me baby. Could almost mistake you for a virgin.”
You weren’t one, but you couldn’t dignify his observation with a response as he started to move his finger in and out of your pussy. He took a steady pace, letting you feel just how big and long his finger was in detail as your walls gripped him like a warm fist. His finger reached deeper than you could dream of, making you whine at how big he was.
He pumped his finger in and out of you, slowly teasing a second finger up against your hole. A burning feeling arose from the impending stretch, but you welcomed the slight pain. Two fingers were always the best. He kissed over the hickeys on your neck, blunt pain arising from the pressure on the bruises as he slipped the second finger in. You gasped, the burning feeling spreading through your body and down your legs. But you were right. Once you were used to the two fingers and the burn eased, he ground the heel of his hand into your clit, amplifying the pleasure already starting to build. Your noises grew louder as your orgasm neared, your mind quickly becoming lost in the sensation.
He groaned hotly into your ear, feeling you tighten impossibly harder over his fingers and imagining how you’d strangle his cock. His dick felt on the verge of combustion from the images racing through his head as your walls massaged his fingers and your moans sang into the heated air.
“I’m… c-clos-...” you could barely speak from the sounds choking your throat.
“Let it out baby. Come for me.” His fingers remained the same steady pace they always were, the bone underneath the skin of his thumb pressing into your clit.
A final circular motion of his hand was what did you in.
Your back arched into him as you came with a loud moan. Your hips stilled and stuttered as your orgasm came over you in waves, the tempo in time with the continued thrusts of his fingers as you drenched them in your juices. He didn’t let your orgasm end, taking the pace and controlling it with an iron fist. Your mind grew hazy, your vision blurry and the nerves around your body dulled their sensation to focus your brain only on your clit and the feeling of his fingers inside you. He didn’t stop his fingers, your pussy pulsing around the soaked digits until the haze of the pleasure faded to welcome the pain of overstimulation.
You whined at it, your hips bucking in an attempt to escape the pain.
“N-no, too much-” you weakly tried to push his arm away, but he thankfully stopped.
“Fuck, you look adorable when you cum, cutie.” He pulled out of you and then out of your panties, soaked beyond saving. You flinched at the sudden coolness of the damp fabric against your raw clit. He’d slipped the mask back down, but let his hand underneath the hood to lick your essence off. His other hand gripped his dick through his jeans like it owed him money. Staving off an orgasm of his own.
“Too adorable, actually. Almost came in my pants.” The obscene sound of lips smacking off his fingers rang through the room.
“God, you taste good.” The sentence was tinged with a growl. “Get on the bed, I need to do too many things to you.”
You obeyed, sitting on the bed as he unzipped his black jeans. Even in the limited light, his boxers had a stain on the front where his cock was. To say he was well endowed looked like an understatement, but it was confirmed when he pulled the final piece of clothing not covering his whole identity down.
His dick was massive. So thick you could probably just barely wrap your hand around it and so heavy it weighed itself down. Long enough to slap his thigh as he moved, droplets of pre beading on the tip. It was enough to make you drop your jaw, wondering how the hell it was gonna fit inside you. But also enough for a small wave of slick to leave your entrance in excitement. He gripped the base in a strong fist, making him groan as he looked eyes with you. He laughed.
“Scared, baby?”
You had no response.
“Aww, cute. Not even inside you yet and you’re already dumb.” He walked up to you, his standing form towering over your seated one. The light dyed his right side gold, accentuating the flex of his muscles, while the left was shrouded in the shadows. His dick was right in front of your face, the size even more daunting but exciting up close. You looked up at him, still in the mask.
He chuckled at your expression. Your eyes were wide, as if unused to his size. Your hands in your lap fidgeting with each other. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth and released it just as quickly.
“You know what will happen if you don’t measure up, baby.”
You stilled.
“So are you gonna be good for me?”
You nodded.
“Good girl. Now lie down, wanna undress you myself.”
You immediately laid back on the bed and waited for him to join you. He crawled onto the bed and shuffled up to you on his knees until he caged your body into the blankets with his arms. You looked up at him, the dull throb in your panties and the knowledge of what he was going to do to you overriding the mild fear. He hovered over you, gauging your half-lidded expression before his hands left the bedding and he sat on his knees, his dick grazing your stomach.
He trailed his big hands up and down your sides, laughing quietly at the way you squirmed. His hands soon found their way underneath your sleep shirt, this time with intent to take it off. He grazed the side of your breasts with his fingertips before seamlessly slipping off the fabric, exposing your breasts to the cool air. You shivered at the sudden lack of heat over your chest. His hands still travelled along your body, feeling the soft skin underneath his fingers, the swell of your breast under his palm. He leaned his head down to get a closer look at your expressions, warped in pleasure but begging for more.
His fingers soon drifted, for the third time already, down into your shorts. Satisfied at the still warm and slick wetness he found stuck to your panties, he lifted his hand back out to lick at your juices, gifting you a glimpse of a sharp jawline. With an obliging lift of your hips, he slipped both your shorts and panties off, leaving you completely naked under his hulking physique.
He took a moment to look at you in all your glory. Flustered face, hands dangling in the air unknowing of what to do with them, your thighs squished together and rubbing as if to provide some friction to your pussy under the intense gaze radiating through his mask. Slick painted the inside of your thighs in a light sheen. His cock pulsed, dripping precum all over your stomach as it shifted whenever he moved.
He got up and straddled your head, pinning your hair up in a harsh fist that had you wincing. The tip nudged against your mouth. He thrusted once, in silent demand you open up and let him take your throat. You let him.
The tip alone was nearly too much for you to handle, stretching out your lips almost as far as they went so as to not accidentally graze him with your teeth. He stayed there, letting you get used to the sheer weight and girth of him in your mouth. Your tongue swiped in circles around him, paying close attention to the underside of his tip that you knew was sensitive in men. It earned you a groan, and he slipped more of his dick into your mouth as a reward.
You ran your tongue around what you could reach. He’d positioned himself at the exact angle that would have you accessing every centimetre of him while he held you against the pillow by your hair. His grip caused flares of pain to your head, but you focused on his dick regardless, swallowing the pain down. Your tongue tracked along the veins that throbbed on the underside, tracing them upwards towards the tip. His dick steadily leaked pre into your mouth, you faithfully catching it with your tongue. He moaned loudly when you dug your tongue into the crevice of his slit, making him thrust the rest of his dick inside.
You gagged, unprepared for the onslaught of his cock suddenly in your mouth. He groaned in relief, holding your head tightly against his pelvis as your throat struggled to take the full length of him in. He breathed heavily.
“Fuck baby, feel so good. ‘m trying not to cum right now.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond. You could only swallow slowly and hope for the best. He groaned at the feeling of your throat constricting on the sensitive tip, your tongue swiping along the shaft as best you could.
He soon started to thrust in and out of your mouth. He ran your mouth all along his dick, covering it with saliva before pulling out and thrusting back in with just as much fervour. Every pass made new groans leave him at the warm feeling of your mouth and the gulping noises as he reached your throat. Your eyes filled with tears at the rough treatment and the solid hits at your throat, but he was too busy throwing his head back and looking down at you, admiring your face as he fucked your mouth. He liked your tears, moaning at the sight of your desperate face.
“Fuck, don’t look at me like that, baby.”
You closed your eyes and surrendered yourself to his will. He moved you like a ragdoll, in and out, rhythmic thrusts filled your mouth to the skull and back while you could only lie there and take it. You didn’t even move your tongue anymore, it couldn’t keep up with him. Saliva spilled down your chin and pooled at the corners of your mouth, more running and frothing with every movement he made.
You reached up, resting your hands on the clefts where his thighs met his hips. His thighs were similarly swole as the rest of him, flexing in time with his thrusts. His breath became heavier, panting audible even through the mask. His thrusts stuttered, no longer the seasoned rhythm, now unstable and desperate, bucking his hips further into your mouth as he pulled out. There were bouts of a few second intervals where he just stopped thrusting, letting his tip push flush against your throat and stay there to catch his breath. You swallowed during those moments, eliciting a whine from the man above you, before he resumed his thrusts again.
He was getting close as his thrusts somehow picked up a pace that rattled your teeth. No doubt bruising your throat in the process. The more he rutted mindlessly into you, the higher his moans reached a fever pitch. The sounds leaving him had already made you leak slick down your thighs and onto the blankets, but the moans grew almost whiny.
“Fuck… I’m close baby. You gonna swallow for me? Take what I give you?”
You nodded as best you could through the dick in your mouth, staring up at him with doe eyes and tears streaming down your face. An obscene squelch sound rang out with every thrust into your throat, and one final swallow around his tip had his pulsing cock cumming straight down your throat. He groaned loudly as he fisted your hair even tighter, ensuring no amount of his cum left your mouth. The sheer amount of time his orgasm took to finally subside had your head going dizzy from the lack of air, but you found you didn’t care. He started to pull out as the last ropes of cum left him, the white liquid settled on your tongue.
He pulled out fully, panting like a dog as he rested back on his knees, his dick still rock hard in front of your mouth. Dazed, you slowly hoisted yourself up further on the pillow on your elbows, your gaze heated as you dropped your tongue, showing off the remnants of cum he’d left on it.
The effect on him was obvious. He chuckled breathily and his cock solidified further. “Fuck, baby, you could kill a man with that.” Ironic, given he would kill you if you didn’t measure up to his satisfaction. He lifted his mask enough to see his mouth, then leaned in to kiss you.
The cum in your mouth immediately transferred to his, his thick lips sucking on your tongue to taste his own cum out of you. He hungered for it, all but vacuuming your tongue into his mouth and sucking an indent of his teeth into the muscle. The salty remnants of his cum faded quickly, but he still continued to kiss you, lips moving against each other with an odd familiarity. His tongue worked its way into your mouth, curling around yours and pushing you down further into the blankets as he dominated the kiss. He explored every crevice of your mouth like he was trying to stick his tongue down your throat, to understand with his tongue why his dick pulsed so harshly when you swallowed around his tip.
Drool ran down your chin. Yours, his, definitely a mix of both. He pressed his head closer like he couldn't bear to be away, not even coming up for air despite the heavy breathing. You were sure he was drooling into your mouth, wet noises came with every smack of your lips.
Yet the time eventually came where he had to come up for air. He pulled away abruptly, on his last thread before the tingly haze in his head became the darkness. He panted, his mouth still visible to you and covered in saliva. His plump lips were red and puffy, his jaw cut like a diamond.
He loomed over you, his arms still bracing you on either side of your body. His hips shifted forward, nudging the thick tip of his dick into your inner thighs. You gasped and jumped slightly at the blunt heat, rivulets of slick dripping down your pussy and thighs that his dick was edging right into and smearing around. He groaned, so close to your pussy he swore he could almost taste it just with his tip.
Your thighs twitched, reflexively closing inwards, but his hips prevented you from closing them fully.
“Keep those legs open, baby.”
You nodded sheepishly. He leaned over you again, this time situating himself right at your pussy. He took his dick in hand, giving it one slow pump from base to tip, twisting his wrist as he got to the tip. He groaned, then ran his tip down your centre, not penetrating you yet. Your wetness coated his dick with every swipe he made, turning his rock-solid dick a shiny shade of dark red. He gyrated his hips, catching your clit in the slit of his tip at the apex and making you both moan loudly. Every pass he made downwards edged closer and closer to your pussy.
He watched your reactions, the way your face contorted into pleasure when your tender clit was ensconced in his thick tip before swiping away, the way your hands had shot up to his back at some point and dug your nails into his back. His movements were the same as they’d always been, rhythmic and so utterly calm. Collected. He groaned atop you, the heat slicking up his dick and preparing him for finally fucking you in the way you needed. The time that you’d feel him inside, stretching you out to a degree that you knew would take time to get used to.
He rolled his hips in such a way that it felt delicious, the feeling momentarily quelling the fire burning at your pussy before going right back to stoking it. You moaned every time, followed by a gruff groan from him that steadily became more ragged. He was leading to the end of his tether too.Finally, after a steady build up of the telltale knotting feeling in your gut, he stopped and leaned back.
“Need to fuck you right now, baby.”
The magic words, music to your ears. This time, he let his tip catch into your pussy, a silent temptation. You spread your legs. He stilled for a second, his breath hitching so quietly you almost missed it, then pressed in.
The stretch was unlike anything you’d felt before. He’d prepared you for half his size on his fingers, let you cum and leak your slick all over yourself to the point it was dripping onto the sheets, but the stretch still burned your muscles. He felt almost inhuman, only the tip had popped inside you but it knocked the wind out of you. You tilted your head back, almost unable to process the feeling of the thick dick finally inside you. It was cathartic, the fire burning your insides could finally begin to be put out.
He groaned above you, stilling as to not orgasm right there, tip deep in you.
“Ooh fuck baby, so tight for me. Too big for you?”
You responded with a whine, unable to use words even if you tried. Words had evaporated from your head.
He moved slowly, centimeter by centimeter, inch by slow thick inch until it seemed like you were filled up to your capacity, only to find out with a glance downwards he was only around halfway inside you. Your eyes bugged, uncertain if you could take all of him in. He chuckled.
“Aww cutie. Afraid I’m too much? Don’t worry.” His speech had an edge of grit, like he was struggling not to just plunge so deep inside you you struggled to find where you ended and he began. “I’ll make it fit.”
You whined, your brain hyperfocused on the feeling of his dick moving again, further and further inside you until it felt like he was properly in your guts. Never had you really understood the phrase ‘rearranging your guts’, but there was no other way to describe the feeling of just how deep he was inside your body. Your muscles burned from the stretch, but he stayed still, plump lips parted and teeth gritted to not rush into the deep end and mindlessly fuck you on his dick.
He had made it fit. His pelvis was against your pussy, brushing your centre. You were so stuffed of dick you couldn’t say anything, could barely make any sounds at all. You could only breathe through the stretch as you got used to it. Your pussy fluttered, making the man above you hiss and push his hips further into you.
“Fucking shit cutie. Don’t do that.”
Your brain fog eased, giving you an idea that was the opposite of what he’d just instructed you. You smirked, and clamped your pussy down onto him.
A strangled moan left his throat, animalistic in its sound. The wetness was all around him now, the sensitivity of his cock suddenly being shown no mercy. He braced himself on all fours again, his head going to the crook of your neck right below your ear. His body was pressed against yours, the softness of yours meeting the hard muscle of his. You realised you’d probably made a mistake with the reminder of just how much bigger and more muscular he was. His breath ghosted over your skin, making it prickle despite the heat.
“Big mistake, cutie.”
He immediately set a pace only classed as punishing. His hips moved with a quickness your brain could barely catch up with. Pulling out to the tip then slamming back inside you, punching that back inner wall and massaging the others hastily. The burning sensation struck back in your muscles, not having fully eased during the time he’d been still, but now it bloomed all around his cock. His tip punched your cervix in painful ruts, his thrusts so fast his hips blurred but oddly disciplined for a man on the edge.
You screamed, walls clamping down on him impossibly further, choking the veins running down his shaft and making it an active effort to keep his hips bucking into you. The force behind his thrusts sent you shifting microscopically up the pillows and the headboard banging against the wall. Not that either of you were paying attention to it when he was fucking your brains out of your head.
Every thrust of his hips into you had you moaning, the sensation too much for your little mind to handle. You started crying, tears streaming down your face as you dug your nails into his back and scratched, leaving red marks befitting of a jungle cat across the expanse of his muscles. He hissed at the pain but continued moving like nothing was happening, hips snapping into you while squeezing your hips so tightly it was going to leave finger-sized bruises across your skin by the morrow.
You were choking on your sobs, the man nestling his face in your neck smirking against the skin as he heard them faintly over the wet squelches coming from where your bodies were joined. So wet, you were dripping out all over him, all around him, so slick it was sometimes difficult to stay inside, almost slipping out a couple of times. Your cockdrunk whines and whimpers, brain unable to form words, and then he hit that spot inside you that made your vision white out and your body spasm.
You hadn’t even noticed you were that close to orgasm, so it hit you like a truck ran through. Your brain couldn’t handle it, shutting down enough to have you only looking dazed at the ceiling as the tidal wave crested over your pussy then spread to the rest of your body in time with your pounding heartbeat.
Your pussy clenched around him as you gushed, tearing a ragged groan deep from his throat. He ignored your still body, pumping his dick inside you and milking your orgasm for every drop it had like nothing had happened, nearing his own edge at your walls all but choking his dick like a vice.
“S-shit! So good for me, dripping all over me like a good little slut.”
He gritted his teeth, feeling the rise of his orgasm cresting, but managed to stave it off. He wanted to feel you. You were pliant as a ragdoll, your body moving in response to his without any input from your tapped-out mind. Even your hands limply rested on his back, not scratching or digging in your nails. The sensitivity on his dick had him stutter on his thrust, bucking into you halfway to pulling out and almost slipping out of you on the tip. He stayed out of you a split second longer than he had all the other times before, his hand coming down to squeeze the base with such grip he whined under his breath.
But it worked. He resumed his pace, this time sliding his hand onto the curve of your neck. You didn’t react. He grunted, pounding into you with the fervour of a man starved, like he’d die tomorrow if he didn’t fuck you into silence and also fuck you out of it, too. He squeezed your neck, right on the pulse points that had your head remaining in its hazed state. Your pussy pulsed around him but was slacker than before, your body overstimulated and your thigh muscles twitching, but he kept going.
“Fuck baby… fucked you so good you’re not whining anymore.” He breathed out a laugh. “It’s okay, I’ll fuck you back to life.”
He paid attention to your face from your neck, squeezing your neck for split second intervals until the light returned to your eyes. His hips never slowed their pace, his stamina prepared for the fuck of a lifetime every night if his lovers so wished. You heard his words, mind slowly processing them to the forefront and finding the irony in them given his threat from earlier. Fuck you back to life? Well, you were breathing again now. Your brain was waking up again from its rest, thoughts no longer slurred in your head and it was just in time to feel him still pounding into you like nothing had happened.
He held his grasp on your neck, feeling the vibration of your whine on your skin. “Like this baby?” he asked teasingly, and you could barely nod.
He grinned wolfishly, licking a fat stripe up your cheek and tasting the dried salt on your skin. Pressing down on your neck tighter, he huffed out a surprised groan when you tightened around his dick again. He felt a spark in his abdomen, beaming brighter and heavier by the second as he pumped in and out of you.
“Oh fuck, I’m close baby. Gonna take all of me? Take all my cum like a good girl?”
You nodded, eyes clamped shut and keening at the praise. You held him tightly, pressing him into you like a weighted blanket as with every thrust he brought you closer to the edge as well.
“You’re close too. You’re squeezing around me. Hold off babygirl, cum with me. Like the romantics do.”
You would’ve laughed if you were able. Instead you moaned. Whined right into his ear. He made a keened sound in response, lifting himself up onto his knees and guiding your leg onto his shoulder. The veins in his arms stuck out against the muscle and pulsed, his pecs rippled with every movement. His dick went deeper with the new angle, knocking your breath from your lungs with each time his tip barrelled into you. You cried out, locking your other leg around his waist and trapping him as close to you as you could, all while he continued to thrust, the pace unchanged and sending you both towards your climax.
His groans grew louder as you tightened around him with every squeeze on your neck, every time he pounded into you and your pussy clamped down as if to keep him there forever.
It was a few minutes of steady pumps of his dick, creeping closer to your orgasm but without the final push to send you over the edge and into the waves. Your voice was growing hoarse from the tireless whines and moans you’d let out at the pleasure of his cock, and you could feel your limbs growing tired, fatigue settling bone deep. But still you persevered. He did too. Your bodies were covered in sweat, the salty liquid settling into the divots of your muscles and rolling down his abs, drenching your hairline.
It was a specific move he did. He took his hand off your neck for a moment to settle it down on your waist with his other one. He pushed your waist onto his cock rather than meeting his cock into you, and the different angle that move offered made you gasp louder than you had the entire night. He’d hit your g-spot. He stilled for a moment, then thrusted with renewed vigour, going just as hard as he had in the beginning. Your moans were so loud you could feel your throat drying up from constantly being open, but you didn’t care in the moment.
Moving like that, right into the spot inside where you were most sensitive had you coming. Your orgasm crashed into you, gushing around his cock like a tidal wave. Your brain turned to mush, whiting out your vision and causing a buzzing in your ears. Your entire body squirmed in his hold as he thrusted into you through your orgasm, pushing more slick out of you. The sheer amount of it completely wetted his pelvis, dripping down past his dick and balls to settle into the blankets.
He all but whined at the sensation of you having the orgasm of your life on his dick. If you had any neighbours nearby they most definitely would’ve heard you coming on him, and that puffed up his ego to the stars. He still kept moving, your slick frothing around his cock in squelching noises to rival the most depraved of porn. It was better than porn, because here he was moaning uncharacteristically high pitched as the spark in his gut finally exploded like a busted fuse.
"F-fuck. I'm coming, babygirl. I'm coming."
His orgasm lasted what felt like forever. Ropes of thick cum pumped into you as he moved until the overstimulation forced him out of you. His dick was soft, finally sated. A steady dribble of cum leaked out of you, and although his dick was done for the night, the sight of his release oozing out of you in an unbroken stream made him drool.
Your brain and vision had returned to the land of the living, so you spied him adjusting his mask to show his mouth fully. The inside of his mouth glistened with saliva, and he kneeled down to put his face near your thighs. You whined at the sight, too overstimulated to be eaten out, but he ignored your wordless pleas.
He licked up your centre, dragging his cum through your pussy up to your clit, which had you wincing and screeching through gritted teeth at the pain. He rolled his tongue back into his mouth and grinned at the taste. Even though it was mostly his cum, the tangy sweet undertone of your arousal complemented the salt of his perfectly.
He kept his tonguing ventures strictly to around your hole after that, digging out his own release with his tongue and licking it down his throat. The stimulation made you whine hoarsely, but you were too tired to react, letting him crudely clean you up.
The grand finale of the night came after he’d licked up every drop of your combined arousal. He’d dug into you one final time with his tongue, then moved up to meet his face to yours. You stared at him blearily, noting his mouth and lips were in an odd position, like he was keeping something in his mouth. He gently pressed his lips to yours, his tongue poking through the seam of your lips and through your open teeth, depositing the salty and tangy mix of your cum onto your tongue.
You didn’t flinch at the way his tongue massaged the inside of your mouth, spreading your cum around your tastebuds. He pulled back, shutting your jaw with his thumb and watched as you swallowed the liquid, a glimmer in your tired eyes. You smiled up at him.
"Satisfied?"
He took the mask off fully, showing his face, and kissed you again, just as sweetly.
"You live another day, baby."
Everything pointed to a perfect movie night.
Freshly popped popcorn prepared by your boyfriend on the stove, butter and salt sticking to the white kernels. An array of fluffy colourful blankets neatly folded on the cushion beside the place where you’d both sit, you setting up the original Scream on the joint netflix account.
Maki rushed over with the popcorn he’d tossed with the flavourings like a professional chef, you sneaking a couple of pieces before he’d even sat down. He snickered and kissed your temple before slumping beside you with the popcorn still in hand, the topmost layer almost spilling out onto the floor. He passed you the bowl while he stretched to get the blankets, fluffing them out and draping them across your laps.
“Did you enjoy last night?” he asked.
You looked at him, the tingling ache in your nether regions having not ceased. You’d spent the whole day unable to walk after he’d ravaged you like an animal the night before, relying on him to hoist you up in the shower while he washed you off, to pick you up in a heart fluttering princess carry downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast and lunch, and mercifully taking it upon himself to fold last night’s laundry after he’d changed the blankets. Those muscles… the memories came back, and you blushed.
“It was the best.”
He grinned wickedly, that cheeky, cocky smile you loved so much and had felt against your skin once he’d pulled that mask up.
“It was funny hearing you say you could fuck me better than yourself.”
He burst out a single humourless laugh, then snickered. “Hey, the only person I’ll let fuck you better than me, is me.”
You smiled and stole a piece of popcorn. “Did you enjoy it?”
“The mask got hot real fast baby. That’s why I had it up the whole time.”
“Really? So it wasn’t to worship me with kisses?” You feigned hurt, placing the back of your hand on your forehead.
“Nah, kissing you isn’t all that, to be honest.” His grin took up half his face.
You slapped him on the arm, your other hand cradling the popcorn and moving it away from where he could reach. He laughed and kissed your temple again, the affection softening the scene.
You looked deep into the pools of his eyes that swam with ardour. And kissed him. Chastely. Softly. A far cry from the animalistic rampage he’d gifted you last night. He tasted like butter and salt, his skin warm and inviting.
It ended as soon as it began, leaving the both of you smiling.
warnings: fluff!! smoking, yuma being a tease, nothing else :33
a/n: ahhh i'm so excited to finally post this!! this fic is part of the postcards from summer event that me and my friends over at the network have created<3 make sure to check out all the other amazing works from our members, they're all extremely talented and incredible!!
you still remember the first camp you went to all those years ago — back when your only worries in life were if all your plushies got a goodnight hug before sleep or if you could find a way for your mom to agree to a sleepover with your best friend.
life was way easier back then; there were no confusing feelings roaming around in your head, no university related stress eating away at you, no adult responsibilities. summers lasted for eternity and were something to look forward to — two months of freedom and making memories, two months which felt magical and full of whimsy as compared to the rest of the year. and amongst those two months, summer camp was always the one thing you awaited the most.
a mix of anxiety and undeniable excitement buzzed in your chest the first time your parents sent you there, with a suitcase containing one too many plushies and a lifelong supply of tissues in case you missed them too much. a suitcase which was surely far too big and over-packed for the week and a half you were supposed to spend there — and yet you insisted on taking that one specifically, insisted on packing it yourself to make sure all your necessities were there with a stubborn expression on your face and a pair of little arms crossed over your chest. your parents found your eagerness adorable and so they let you prepare the suitcase on your own; but still made sure to check if everything was there once you were sound asleep in your bed.
of course it wasn’t. what you packed consisted primarily of your toys and books — all the essentials a child would’ve thought they needed to survive without their parents and keep themselves occupied.
once you arrived at the camp, you fell in love with it immediately: the forest scenery and beautiful greenery surrounding it, the small, wooden houses sprawled all around, the chirping of flowers from high up in the trees. you couldn’t help but look around, completely enamored with the sights gracing your eyes, almost in a trance as you twirled in the spot you stood in, taking everything in. it looked like something you had only seen in books and cartoons before — and you were more than ready to make your time here just as interesting and adventurous as those you’ve read about or those you’ve seen on the tv screen. you just weren’t exactly sure how you’d go about it yet — but the moment you met yuma, you were sure that your time spent at the camp would be eventful.
you noticed him on your first day, the moment you stepped inside the cafeteria — a frown on your face and one of your favorite plushies in your hand, an orange cat with white stripes you got for christmas after begging your parents for it all december. normally, you would’ve been happy walking with it, it was the plushie you were most attached to, after all; but the betrayal of your parents replacing all your packaged things with actually useful and important stuff made you grumpy the moment you opened your suitcase. that was, of course, until you sat right next to him and it just so turned out that he had the same exact plushie. same brand, same size, same attachment to the toy… just different colors. his was black with white socks and a gorgeous, white spot around its eye, while yours was orange with vibrant, pinkish ears and nose.
he chuckled at your frown and how stupid you looked with it on your face. you giggled at the way his cat plushie resembled his own features. that alone was enough for your friendship to bloom — and for the most notorious and mischievous duo this camp has ever known to be born.
everyone knew of you, from the new-coming camp counselors to the other children and their parents — they’ve heard about your shenanigans, about the pranks you’ve pulled on the adults during each year you’ve spent at the camp which somehow doubled in size every single time. it became almost a legend, a myth told by the older kids to the first timers when the sky dimmed into a shade of dark blue and the bonfire stood proudly, its warmth hitting their little faces as they sat around it. the tale of the two menaces was known to everyone and albeit dramatized, as kids have the tendency to do so, it left a lifelong impression on the camp and the kids attending it — so long that it has outlived both your and yuma’s days there. well, not quite — for when your age far exceeded the limitations set by the camp’s organizers, you decided the next best thing was to start working there every summer, starting the very moment you were old enough to do so.
and oh boy, was working with yuma fun.
both of you greatly enjoyed taking care of the kids: creating games to keep them entertained, making sure each and every one of them was having fun and being included in the activities. it came to you naturally, maybe because you’ve lived through these rules and duties from the other side all these years — you could’ve swore you had them memorized before they even presented you with the list on the first day of work.
while yuma was the camp counselor which children would always claim to be the most fun one to play with, you were the more responsible, sensible one — always making sure nothing gets forgotten, providing the kids with advice and comfort whenever they were in a rather gloomy mood. truthfully, your dynamic hasn’t changed almost at all since you were kids: still as playful with each other, still willing to play little pranks on the children of the camp and giggling to yourselves when they worked out perfectly. but the air between you was different now. thicker, heavier somehow. and you knew more than well what the reason behind it was.
summer camp was the one thing which connected you two, and with each passing year, each passing summer, the journey with this place has neared its end. endings, in your book, meant closing a chapter of your life and leaving it behind — everything once tied to it now a precious memory stored inside your brain like a catalogue of colorful photographs. endings meant change. they meant loss. and the last thing you wanted was to lose a certain man from your life: especially considering that whenever you looked back at your favorite moments of your existence, he was always there as the common denominator to all of them.
the thought of possibly losing yuma scared you — it haunted you day and night, growing more intense and harder to ignore with each passing summer.
so on your last night of camp, while the children were long asleep, you went out to sit by the lake.
a string of smoke escaped your lips, the cigarette resting loosely in your right hand as you looked out at the image in front of you — the midnight sky beautiful, dotted with little stars creating beautiful patterns everywhere you looked. the water was calm and steady; unmoved and stagnant like it always was, reflecting the imagery of the night sky on its surface. your hand moved up to your face once more, cigarette resting on your lips. a sigh escaped your lips before you inhaled the smoke once more, the tiny, orange light at the other end of it flickering aggressively.
‘some example you’re setting for the kids.’ a voice came from behind you and you didn’t have to turn around to recognize who the teasing tone belonged to.
yuma.
his pink hair, a hot topic amongst the camp attendees, still looked vibrant even in the dim lighting as he approached you, snatching the cigarette from your hands and inhaling the smoke. you frowned at his actions; which only made him chuckle under his breath.
‘you have your own pack.’ you mumbled as he sat down next to you, the blanket which you had set for yourself big enough to fit two people on it. ‘and yet you continue to steal mine anyways.’
‘because then i get the reward of seeing you frown.’ he chuckled, nudging your shoulder with his as he handed you the cigarette back, earning yet another annoyed glare from you. ‘your annoyed face has to be one of my favorite sights.’
you didn’t know what you hated more — the fact that his words were making you flustered or the fact that you knew that he was saying nothing but the truth.
the two of you sat in perfect silence after his words, another shared cigarette flying from hand to hand. the smoke filled up your lungs and left a nasty aftertaste in your mouth, but you’ve learned to tolerate it over time — it didn’t bother you as much anymore, certainly not the same as when you and yuma first tried them behind the camp counselors backs at your last year of camp. now, smoking has become a habit for both of you; not to the point of addiction, but more so serving as an unhealthy treat to indulge in on late nights or particularly stressful days. after all, you both shared the same belief: an occasional cigarette didn’t truly count.
you looked up at the night sky and as it gazed down upon you, you couldn’t help but reminisce about all those previous summers, all the precious moments and memories of the past, all the nights you snuck out to gaze at the same moon, the same stars.
they have heard everything — your silent cries, your laughter, your meaningless stories as you talked to yourself freely. not to be heard, not for someone to listen; but to let it out into the world and off of your heavy heart. the moon didn’t judge, after all. the stars didn’t ask meaningless questions or laughed at your fears and doubts. sometimes it was better to speak into the void than talk to people who would eventually misunderstand you.
yuma wouldn’t. he always understood. but there were things you couldn’t tell him, either: and when those things hung heavy on your aching heart, you resorted to talking to yourself, mumbling little stories which were only listened to by the moon, the stars and the ever so tranquil waters of the lake.
‘anything going on in that pretty mind of yours?’ his words were barely above a whisper, eyes still focused on the night sky. ‘come on, humor me.’
silence took over for a moment more as you thought about his offer. a sigh left your lips — deep and heavy, as if there truly was something bothering you.
‘it’ll only bore you.’ you mumbled. yuma shook his head.
‘nothing you say ever bores me.’
you hesitated for a second.
‘it’ll be weird.’ you finally stated, voice small and unsure of what you planned on saying next. ‘spending a summer without this camp being a part of it.’
yuma’s smile faltered — his expression changing into a more serious one, eyes finally tearing away from the night sky and locking with yours for a split second. you immediately knew he understood what you meant from the look in his eyes; the dark brown orbs sparkling in that specific way you recognized only from your late night conversations, those you usually pretended didn’t take place the next day. those conversations always brought out the vulnerable sides in both of you, sides you had promised to keep only to yourselves.
he exhaled, the smoke from his cigarette floating upwards into the night sky, swirling around in the cold air.
‘you’re right.’ he said, fingers gently brushing yours as he handed you the cigarette, the contact electric despite its delicacy. you inhaled the smoke one last time before putting it out in the sand, leaving the bud there to throw it out later. yuma’s eyes carefully followed each of your actions; like a quiet cat observing what was happening around him.
silence took over once more as the leaves rustled in the midnight wind.
‘i’ll miss this.’ yuma mumbled, hands resting on both sides of his body as he sighed. his eyes flickered to you for just a second — so short that you hadn’t even noticed. ‘i’ll miss us. i’ll miss you.’
and suddenly, upon hearing him, all the words died in your throat for a good minute — the thought of him missing you has never once truly crossed your mind. maybe it was because, at the end of the day, you thought he didn't view this friendship with as much importance as you did. a foolish thought, truly; but your fragile mind loved playing tricks on you, and this was only one of many. but hearing it from him, without an ounce of hesitation in his voice, made something shift inside your brain.
'i'll miss you, too.' you said quietly, letting your confession linger in the air between you like the cigarette smoke which has now completely disappeared. 'and this camp. all of it.'
'well, it'll remain a happy memory, won't it?' he stated, straightening his back just a little. 'everything in life is meant to pass eventually, but we can still preserve the memory of it for as long as we exist.'
'since when have you become so-'
'intelligent and amazing?' yuma cut you off.
'performatively philosophical.' you corrected, a chuckle falling from his lips.
'i'm just saying the truth.' his voice was gentle and calm as he spoke, staring up at the sky. 'this chapter of our life's will pass, but that doesn't mean there aren't other beautiful things awaiting us in the future. it's not like i'll stop talking to you just because our journey with this camp is coming to an end.'
'but it'll be different.' you stated, seemingly deep in thought. yuma nodded.
'different doesn't have to mean worse.'
he was right, you thought. and yet the idea of losing this part of your life and going forward scared you still — with everything around you changing at such a rapid pace as you slowly entered the serious part of adulthood, losing the only thing that has been a constant for years upon years felt like a nightmare.
'there's something i've been meaning to tell you.' yuma mumbled after a moment of silence, your head immediately turning to face him, brows furrowed in slight confusion. 'it's nothing bad, i promise! quite the opposite, actually.'
'oh, really?' you said, curiosity taking over you as you awaited his revelation. 'what is it, then?'
'i'll be moving into a different city.' he stated simply, slight excitement in his voice. 'i'm taking my master's at a different university. your university, actually. which means-'
'you're moving to my city?'
'precisely.'
yuma was met with silence on your end — a fact both worrisome and confusing. maybe he expected a different reaction from you. maybe he expected fireworks and proclamations of joy, of complete and utter happiness. and yet what he got was silence; an oddly calming one, he had to admit, but it was still not what he anticipated.
his eyes caught sight of you in the corner of his vision, head turning your way just slightly to get a better look. there you sat — quietly, with your gaze focused on the tranquil waters of the lake, the softest of smiles gracing your face. and that alone was enough for him to know. you were happy. of course you were. but there was something else in your expression, a different feeling lingering in your eyes like a delicate sparkle only noticed by some. yuma didn't quite understand what it was; but it wasn't his place to interrogate you about it. to know that you were happy was enough for him to be satisfied, too.
'i'm glad.' you finally mumbled out, smile growing as your eyes met his for a couple of seconds. yuma felt his own lips curving up, too — the look of adoration in his eyes unmistakable as he laid his gaze upon you.
'well, i'm glad that you're glad, then.' he answered, a chuckle escaping his lips. he could feel there was something heaving on your chest still — something left unsaid, still hidden from him. but he knew not to pressure you to tell him; he knew you will eventually, when you're ready to share whatever it was you were still caging deep in your heart.
besides, yuma was guilty of it, too. how could he judge you for hiding something from him when he had kept all his true feelings for you locked away in the furthest depths of his aching heart for years?
he'd tell you when the time is right — and surely you'd do the same.
'have you thought of what you'd do?' you asked, the sound of your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. 'you know, next summer.'
'hm, not really.' he answered truthfully, hands resting on his sides. 'maybe i'll take the chance and travel somewhere.'
'i'm somehow not surprised.' you giggled, fixing the loose strands of your hair that had gotten on your face. 'you've been mentioning that since you were a kid. i don't think i'd be able to count all the times you've yapped my ear off about going on crazy adventures all around the world during lunch.'
'let's not discredit me now.' yuma huffed in pretend annoyance. 'i yapped your ear off about it all the time, not just lunch.'
'yeah. and annoyed me with it every single day.'
'i don't think asking multiple follow-up questions would count as being annoyed.' he mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. 'but sure.'
'okay, okay. don't go grumpy now.' you said, clearly amused by his antics. yuma felt you nudge his shoulder slightly in an almost playful manner, his smile appearing back on his face immediately. 'any ideas on where you'd like to travel first?'
'i have all the time in the world to plan it out.' he said. 'what about you, though? any plans for the future summers?'
you thought about it for a good minute.
'i don't think so.' you stated finally, voice quiet and unsure. 'i repressed that thought as much as possible until now.'
'well, wouldn't you like to travel, too?' yuma followed up with another question, curiosity taking the better of him. you nodded after a few seconds.
'probably, yeah.' you finally answered him, hands falling to your sides and resting on the blanket under you. 'i'd have to find someone who'd want to do it with me, though. definitely couldn't do it alone.'
'you could always travel with me, you know.'
'huh?'
'well, if you're not sick of me yet, that is.' yuma chuckled, head thrown back as he gazed up at the stars. 'would be nice to have someone familiar to travel the world with, wouldn't it?'
you could only nod in response. yuma was right, of course — to have something you knew, something familiar along with you on your travels was the best possible thing. a reminder that even in foreign places there's someone bringing you comfort, someone who knows you. and who better than the boy you had spent every summer with and quietly loved since day one?
'yeah, it would be lovely.' you finally answered, a smile gracing your lips. 'and for the record, i could never get sick of you.'
'right back at you, lovely.'
silence took over the lakeside, the quiet sounds of leaves rustling in the wind and small animals in the distance filling the scene as yuma's hand gently brushed yours — fingers grazing yours just slightly as he readjusted his seating position, instinctively moving closer to you. his palm was burning hot against yours, and yet the sensation felt comfortable. it felt right. so, despite your heart beating out of your chest, you let yourself enjoy this moment; head moving to rest against his arm, body leaning closer to his.
and in the quiet of the night, while the camp was sound asleep, love continued to grow and bloom — unsaid and not yet acknowledged, but oh so visible. there was no need to rush it, after all; you and yuma had all the time ahead of you to nourish it and let it grow outside the little cages you had hidden it in.
warnings :: use of noona, younger bf! maki hehehehehee, fluff fluff fluff he's so cute!!!!
wc :: 1.9k
younger bf! maki who was quite popular at uni and was loved by everyone in his year, being utterly desired by every woman that ever laid eyes on him.
younger bf! maki who rarely paid attention to women in general, his focus being basketball and basketball only.
younger bf! maki who had only selective friendships, despite being extremely popular and well mannered.
younger bf! maki who crosses paths with you when the basketball accidentally bounces off court and hits your shin while you were studying, seated at a bench nearby. he runs to you, continuously apologizing even though the hit wasn’t intentional.
younger bf! maki who absolutely gets astonished by your dazzling smile that you flash at him, being kind and reassuring that it didn’t hurt you at all and it was completely alright.
younger bf! maki whose face almost turns red at how flustered the interaction made him, turns away and gets back to the game, the picture of your smile imprinted on the back of his mind.
younger bf! maki who loses sleep over the tiny moment between you two replaying in his head throughout the entire night. he’s completely awestruck by your presence.
younger bf! maki who doesn’t hesitate to ask around and inquire about you, only to find out that you were a senior in his own major.
younger bf! maki who is shy at first but eventually mans up and follows you around uni and tries his best to interact with you, being careful enough to not cross any boundaries.
younger bf! maki who genuinely torments himself by denying all the deep attraction that he felt towards you over the few weeks that you had been friends.
younger bf! maki who secretly gets possessive over you, shooting unconscious glares at whoever tried to get close to you or acted a bit too friendly towards you for his liking.
younger bf! maki who gets so flustered every time his friends tease him about you but never shows it openly. little did he knows his rose coloured cheeks and the smile threatening to creep upto his lips gave everything away.
younger bf! maki who gets extremely jealous when he sees you hanging out guys in your year. the fact that they know you longer, better and are closer to you than him makes him feel sad.
younger bf! maki who makes his best efforts to observe and learn about you all the damn time, spending all the free time he has with you, trailing behind you like a puppy.
younger bf! maki who brings you your favourite food and stays by your side every time you're stressed because of assignments.
younger bf! maki who gets judged by other girls who are interested in him for hanging out with someone who isn’t as popular as him, but in reality all those talks get blurred out the moment he sees you smile.
younger bf! maki who never oversteps boundaries and is extremely respectful towards you, often looking up to you, admiring your passion and confidence, all while being absolutely in love with you.
younger bf! maki who makes your heart flutter every time he makes those puppy eyes at you unknowingly, giggling at your half funny jokes, paying attention to your words whenever you speak in a group of people, giving all sense of his concentration to your every little move.
younger bf! maki who is extremely oblivious of your gaze that always travels to him, filled with adoration and also the feeling that floods your chest every time he smiles at you, dimples almost kissing your heart.
younger bf! maki who doesn’t even have a bit of an idea how your chest swells and your face heats up every single time he calls you ‘noona’ with the softest voice ever.
younger bf! maki who finally breaks out of his own bubble of denial, only to realise that he couldn’t hold all the feelings he has for you in him anymore,
younger bf! maki who shudders at the thought of even confessing to you, because in his eyes, you were the most perfect human being with no flaws. it would be a miracle if you liked him back.
younger bf! maki who plans his confession a million times in his head, repeating his words over and over again, stuttering even at the impromptu confession to a wall that his friends had to witness.
younger bf! maki who genuinely gets his friends worried at how nervous he gets before telling you about his feelings for you. nobody would’ve expected mr.popular-handsome-good-at-everything man to have his hands shaking at a mere conversation.
younger bf! maki who at last gains all the courage and plans a dinner for you at his house, his supportive family leaving the house for you two to have your moment.
younger bf! maki who cooks your favourite dishes (he had spent weeks perfecting the taste), based on all his observations, the ones which came to him naturally when admiring your every move.
younger bf! maki who looks visibly nervous when he opens the door, letting you in into a dimly lit house, candles flickering at a distance on their dining table, everything arranged neatly, food plated neatly and cloches places over necessary dishes.
younger bf! maki whose hands tremble with the nerves as he tries to serve you your food, while hesitating to look at you, shyness taking over him the moment you two are alone.
younger bf! maki who gets taken aback when you almost snatch the fork out of his hands, serving food for both yourself and him, his eyes going wide and puppy-like. “hey, it’s alright maki, relax. let me do it okay?” you say calmly like your heart isn’t threatening to burst out of your ribcage anytime soon.
younger bf! maki who is oblivious to the fact that you sensed what was coming, right when he invited you home for dinner, but you pretended to play along, just to watch him adorably do it in his own way.
younger bf! maki who purses his lips, setting down the dessert spoon as he finishes eating. his eyes stay fixated on you as he watched you take the first bite of the delicacy that was crafted carefully and oh so lovingly by his own hands.
younger bf! maki who waits for your reaction and immediately lights up when your eyebrows raise along with your lips curving into an oh so beautiful smile. “this is delicious, maki. thank you.” you say as you scoop up the last bite and savour it.
younger bf! maki who paces around the living room, repeating his speech, the words that he wanted to say to you, loud and clear when you leave the living room to him while you use the restroom.
“okay maki, breathe. just say whatever you planned. she’ll accept your confession. or maybe not… but uh we have to confess— okay repeat once again. breathe… wait i cannot talk if she looks at me like that i like her too much fuck—” a chuckle resonates behind him and his heart momentarily stops. doomed.
maki turns around, the small velvet box stumbling off of his hands but he catches it clumsily. you watch his actions with an amused smile. just how flustered can he get around you?
the expression on his face was a mixture of fright, embarrassment, shock— and also absolutely hilarious to you. you almost failed to hold back your laugh.
“what was that about?” you ask, a gentle smile, full of adoration and amusement gracing your lips.
words get stuck in his throat and he immediately hides the box behind him, his huge palms enveloping the mini cuboid. he shakes his head indicating the sweet commotion to be nothing.
“i’ve heard it all now c’mon.” you take a step forward to stand right in front of him.
maki lets out a sigh of defeat, his lips pressing into a thin line, dimples popping out adorably. he opens the tiny box, arms resting on either sides of his torso. his eyes flicker between you and the tiny ring that encircled itself around a thin, silver chain, which rested oh so beautifully against the velvet base of the box.
your mouth falls agape at how stunning yet simple the neck piece looks. simple and stunning? that's what you were to him.
“i uhhh… actually forgot everything I planned to say initially but uhh..” his voice trails off, nervousness getting the best of him. with a deep inhale, he starts again.
“i really like you, noona.” heart flutter. you nod.
“I've liked you since the day i saw you. you're probably one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know it seems like I'm being too intense with my emotions right now, but I just think that's how i feel. There's not a day that goes by without me wanting to be yours and wanting to make you mine.”
an uncontrollable smile creeps up to your features, your hand almost raising up to cover your face in order to hide the blood that rushed to your cheeks. oh he was so utterly adorable.
“and this necklace. I initially wanted to buy you a ring, maybe like a promise ring? I know it's too soon but i would like to pledge my loyalty to you, you know?”
a laugh erupts from your mouth at such deep words that he had used to describe his loyalty, a laugh purely out of adoration and love for the younger man.
Maki's face turns into a question mark, along with a dimpled smile that appears caused by your contagious laugh.
“why are you laughinggg???!!!”
“pledge your loyalty to me? what are you? a knight?” your laugh dies down with your question, the remains of it still playing on your lips.
“i mean i could be. noona’s knight in shining armour?” he shrugs.
“anyways what i wanted to say is, i promise to be the best boyfriend ever and i promise to treat you better than any man you've ever met. noona, would you like to be my girlfrie—”
“yes”
“let me finis—”
“i cannot wait to kiss you, you're so damn cute.”
you step forward, palms cradling his face as you press your lips onto his softly. maki kisses you back so sincerely, hands gently and respectfully resting on your waist, his body hovering against yours while his brain does a good job at holding him back from completely dissolving into your touch.
“riki wilhelm maus, yes, i will be your girlfriend.” you say as you pull away, your finger reaching to boop his nose, your waist now attached to his hip while his arms completely wrapped around you.
his face displays the widest grin you've ever seen, and oh those cutest little dimples in the world make your heart skip multiple beats.
“sooo…” his eyes wander all over your face and the pretty smile that took over your face and he speaks, “do I still call you noona?” he tilts his head in question.
“yes?? I love it when you call me that.” you reply and a giggle erupts in response, as he brings you closer to bury his face in your neck.
younger bf! maki who's so so smitten and would cherish such a moment forever, often giggling over it every now and then. his friends were definitely gonna hear the end of it and his heart would never forget the swell of his chest that he had felt at that very moment.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I know this might seem like I'm being a little dramatic, but I never really got the chance to do events for follower milestones or anything similar. And honestly, SEVENTEEN means so much to me. They're my home. I'm here because of them, and they helped me through some of the hardest times in my life. They'll always have a special place in my heart, so I thought... why not celebrate it with an event? It won't hurt anyone, and I promise I'll still be working on my other requests in the meantime!
Also, this will be my first - and maybe my last - time writing for SEVENTEEN, so let's make it memorable.
WHAT YOU NEED TO DO ⋆˚꩜｡
Choose:
-One member
-One Genre
Format:
Member + Genre
I'm posting this a little early so everyone has enough time to send in their requests! That way, I can start posting the fics on August 7th.
I'll be crossing off selected members and songs as they're claimed, so don't worry about getting confused!
Thank you for being here and for celebrating this special milestone with me. Here's to 7 years of loving SEVENTEEN and many more memories to come. ꫂ᭪݁
MEMBERS
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Choi Seong-cheol
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Yoon Jeong-han
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Hong Joshua
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Moon Jun-hui
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Kwon Soon-young
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Jeon Won-woo
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Lee Jihoon
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Lee Seok-min
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Kim Min-gyu
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Xu Ming-hao
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Boo Seung-kwan
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Hansol Vernon Chwe
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Lee Chan
GENRES
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Friends to Lovers
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Enemies to Lovers
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Office Romance
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Royalty AU
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Right Person, Wrong Time
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Coffee Shop Romance
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Fake Dating
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Neighbours to Lovers
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Forbidden Love
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Flower shop Romance
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Holiday Romance
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Roommates to Lovers
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Best Friend's Brother
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Golden Retriever x Black Cat
I'll cross off both the member and prompt once they've been selected!
And if you have any extra ideas in mind, don’t be shy to send them in too!! I’m always open to more inspiration. ˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵
I might take a little time to get through everything, but I promise I'll do my best to finish these as quickly as possible. I've actually been wanting to write for SEVENTEEN for a while now, so I'm taking this event as the perfect excuse to finally do it...
Thank you for celebrating my 7 years as a Carat with me and for giving me so many fun ideas to work with. Please be patient with me, and I hope you'll enjoy the stories when they're finished!
god he's so FUCKING attractive send help!!!! the lip bite and the dimples slightly showing oh my god maki you insane man he's crazy he's crazy he's crazy he's crazy he's crazy he's crazy he's crazy im crazy
hi guys, as you all can see I haven't been as active on here as I used to be i miss being here so much but I'm so busy with my academics i haven't even been sleeping enough and I'm so tired everyday,, it'll get busier but I'm gonna try my best to divide time equally because i love being here sm okei pls wait for me ☹️
what the fuck😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
titsay
prguitarman
gracieabrams
baratheonpilled
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
