#I GOT IDEAS FOR D A Y S

[llimerrence]

Svet, frozen in an ice block somewhere, watching as Winter King dotes on ice marcy: Am i joke to u ??

[emillionaireee]

warnings: rough sex, unprotected p in v (don't recommend! trust me.), overstimulation ( just a tiny bit), hair pulling, spanking, pussy eating, squirting, creampie, crying, VERY VOCAL sex, names (slut, whore, mama, baby) i think that's it!

if you don't like these themes feel free to click out! 💞

chris heard your bed slamming against the wall as he pounded into your warm slick. "fffuck you wanted this huh? dressed like such a slut for me hm?" he said as he slapped your ass. "shut the fuck u-" you were cut off to a harsh slap on your ass.

chris rubbed your ass he slapped it again harder "say it again hm?" he whispered into your ear harshly. his cock moved quicker in you if that was even possible. his fingers moved to your clit rubbing it in circles. loud whines and moan escaped your pretty plump lips.

how did you end up like this you ask? well you thought it was a smart idea to arrive to chris's dealing party with the tiniest mini skirt ever and a tube top. and thats how you ended up face down ass up on chris's bed joints layed on the nightstand next to you guys. clients waiting for chris to sell to them, but he didn't care all he wanted to do was fuck you till you saw stars.

"mhm ngh!" you moaned as the sound of skin slapping filled the room. chris moved his hand that was rubbing circles on your clit to your lower stomach. where he could feel himself thrust into your slick. "fucking s-slut, why are you so goddamn tight" he groaned pushing his hand on your lower abdomen "ya feel me?" he asked.

you were lost in pleasure as you didn't answer your face in the pillows. chris grabbed your hair in a fist "i asked a question you dirty whore" he spat. "y-ye-yes! yes chris! s-so big!" you yelled. "uh huh" he said letting go of your hair your head falling back into the pillow. the pillow collected your pornographic moans and that pissed chris off. he wrapped his arm around your neck and made your back hit his chest, you sat up straight as his cock slammed into you.

"yes chris! please please d-don't stop!" you yelled as he basically filled you up. his arm still wrapped around you, you were basically in a headlock and it turned you on so much. your nails dug into his arm screaming his name"yeah? you want everyone to know who's dick you love" chris said. you nodded quickly. you approached your high quickly "chris! wanna cum! p-please" you whined

"go ahead mama" he whispered into your ear. you let go but chris didn't stop instead he kept on going. he flipped you over onto your back as he approached his high slipping in and out your pussy. "look at that fuck so dirty for me" he said into your ear. whimpers escaped your mouth as you whined repeatedly at the overstimulation. "where baby?" he asked rushed

"ins-inside!" you barely managed to get out. chris knew you were too fucked out to think clearly but that was one of the hottest things he ever heard you say so he did. his cum spurted out of his cock painting your walls white as you moaned at the warm feeling abrupting in your womb. chris pulled out slowly watching your cum and his mix together pooling at the sheets, he dropped onto his knees staring.

he placed his warm tongue inside you slowly thrusting in to taste you and him. your hands flew to his hair pulling. tears pierced in your eyes as you stared at him in-between your legs

"o-oh!" you moaned as your back arched for the 100th time that night. he looked up at you with eyes filled with lust. tears fell down your face, your hair messy, clothes ripped off, makeup ruined.

you quickly felt an unfamiliar feeling pooling in you. "chris-" you started as clear liquid geushed out of you falling onto the sheets, chris's face and your legs "im sorr-" you said before you got caught off "that was the sexiest thing ever" chris stated matter of factly.

"now do it again"

authors notes: not doing a masterlist rn so all written works are under the first tag!! ❤️ also send me requestsss or js talk to me!!

[uravichii]

"best friends who kiss?"

character/s: bakugo katsuki

summary: recently, your best friend has been kissing you at random times. you have no idea why because he refuses to talk about it. either way, you're not about to let this to ruin your precious friendship.

genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo

a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D

the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.

"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"

"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.

you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.

you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."

then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.

you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.

"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"

"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"

you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.

"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"

"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."

he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.

"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"

and he's out of the door.

was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.

at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.

after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.

"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.

there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.

he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.

"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"

you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"

"s-sure."

when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?

he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.

"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.

"t's okay."

"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.

"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"

"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.

"son of a bitch."

the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.

you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.

now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.

he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'

"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.

your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.

you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.

bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.

you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.

you kick him in the shin.

"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"i was going toー"

"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"

"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.

"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"

he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.

"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."

silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.

"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.

you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."

"i'm not confused. i like you."

"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."

"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"

"stop saying that. you don't."

"i do, and you like me tooー"

"what?!" you laugh incredulously.

'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?

you do what is necessary again.

"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.

"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."

you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.

"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"

"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."

you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.

"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"

"we're not going to break it off."

"how do you know that?"

"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"

"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."

"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."

"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."

he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."

"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.

"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."

if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.

"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."

in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.

"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"

he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.

"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."

he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.

"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."

after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.

he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.

when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.

"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."

"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."

"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."

you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.

"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"

he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."

"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."

"fuck off!"

TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)

[jirsungs]

NO IDEA ☆ l.dh

pairing: loser!donghyuck x fem!reader

no idea synopsis: a story where both you and lee donghyuck seem to get what you want. he's the perfect pawn in making your ex-boyfriend jealous and the smarty pants tutor helping you pass your math class. donghyuck has it easy too, he's finally able to seek out and experience the world of dating through you, his long-devoted crush and surprisingly enthusiastic tutoring student. but then again, when meaningless tutoring sessions soon evolve into reciprocated feelings, is it really that easy?

genre: college au, nonidol au, fake dating au, social media au (includes written chapters), classmates to friends to lovers, he's a nerd & she's a popular cheerleader (you see where this is going), he fell first but she fell harder trope, kinda based off to all the boys i've loved before, fluff, crack/humor, angst, one-sided pining that turns into mutual pining

warnings: explicit language, unrealistic college partying, talks about family issues (this does NOT reflect any of the idol's families!), yuqi has an ex gf, some alcohol consumption, kys and sexual humor, bullying, hyuck and his buds are mistreated ☹️, hyunjin is a bad bf!!!, cheesy af, unrequited love, bad insults that sound like they're from the 2000s, HELLA miscommunication

no idea playlist: btr's no idea, taylor swift's you belong with me, the vamps + demi lovato's somebody to you, james arthur's can i be him, ariana grande's daydreamin, fitz & the tantrums' out of my league, shawn mendes' treat you better, bruno mars' just the way you are, lonely god's marlboro nights, the 1975's i'm in love with you, sam smith's like i can, arctic monkeys' wanna be yours

author's note: FIRST HYUCK SMAUU! how we feeling 😏 i needed to get this idea out of my system! plus, i love this type of trope, and haechan just fits the nerdy role 😭 I HAD TO! but happy reading :D <3

comment if you wish to be tagged for the story's updates!

profiles: "ncu freaks" + jeno 🤔 | gal pals & two men

intro. #manifestationiskey 🩷

ep 1. but a FAILING?

ep 2. i guess i'm her tutor

ep 3. WHY IS HE ATTRACTIVE

ep 4. COUGH y/n bag him COUGH

ep 5. i know i can treat youuu bettterr

ep 6. YNHYUCK PLOT IS FINALLY SAILING!

ep 7. bro texts with his 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 𝓪𝓵𝓹𝓱𝓪 mode on 🐺👅

ep 8. bro fumbled HARD 🤦‍♂️

ep 9. LET THE BOY LIVE!! HES IN LOVE!!

ep 10. THE HARD LAUNCH GOES CRAZY

ep 11. lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities? (written)

ep 12. jeno got me up... plotting

ep 13. AMAZING fake boyfriend

ep 14. meeting the ncu freaks? (written)

ep 15.

ep 16.

ep 17.

ep 18.

more to come. . .!

started: 09/06/24 finished:

© JIRSUNGS. ANY TRANSLATIONS/REPOSTS/PUBLISHES OF MY WORKS ON ANY PLATFORM ARE STRICTLY PROHIBITED! ALL COMMENTS, REBLOGS, LIKES, & FEEDBACK ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU, MWA! <3

[sundrop-writes]

BRAINWASHED

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)

Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .

Summary:

Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.

So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 8,000

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.

A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!

...

Stiles was hopeless. 

That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless. 

He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least. 

Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life. 

Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long. 

See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.  

But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman. 

It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy. 

Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ‘fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them. 

That night, you had become his hero. 

And since then, you had been the only object of his affections. 

Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so. 

In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship. 

The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature. 

So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy. 

So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms. 

Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack. 

Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you. 

Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you. 

And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway. 

But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you. 

He tried not to act like it. 

But on nights like this, it was just so hard. 

Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade. 

Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison. 

But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’. 

And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade. 

But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you. 

Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time. 

Again - he was hopeless. 

Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes. 

With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin. 

Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him. 

A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch. 

How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.) 

Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites. 

The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried. 

It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it. 

Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns. 

“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-” 

Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet. 

You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying. 

“Y/N, uh-” 

He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat. 

“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.” 

“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!” 

Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him. 

“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding. 

You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand. 

“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically. 

Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued. 

“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.” 

Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen. 

“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep. 

“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.” 

Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place. 

When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration. 

“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.” 

This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench. 

The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries. 

And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you. 

When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter. 

“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again. 

“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter. 

You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead. 

“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke. 

But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds. 

He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly. 

“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock. 

He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too. 

“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste. 

“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him. 

“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed. 

(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.) 

“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch. 

He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment. 

There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual. 

And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day. 

He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet. 

Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.) 

“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. 

“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice. 

His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years? 

“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers. 

Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day. 

“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.” 

He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out. 

“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments. 

Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him. 

He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration. 

“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!” 

Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why. 

As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh. 

He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?” 

The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret. 

Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot. 

He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies. 

Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count. 

He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock. 

In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt. 

Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front? 

But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home. 

He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him. 

… 

When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged. 

His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you. 

His little secret piece of you. 

He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis. 

Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild. 

He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for. 

He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle. 

This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him. 

Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain. 

Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game. 

He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win. 

So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this. 

He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real. 

He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out: 

“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.” 

And what else could he do but obey? 

So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on. 

He was a man of simple, divine tastes. 

So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric. 

“Stiles, please.” 

He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life. 

And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-

Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers. 

He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in. 

He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain. 

He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work. 

He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you. 

He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties. 

When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask: 

“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?” 

But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh. 

And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-

(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.) 

You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say: 

“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.” 

Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm. 

He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now. 

He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state. 

Though he knew that would never fucking happen. 

If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though. 

Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow. 

He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like. 

You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone. 

Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole. 

But what would they smell like? 

He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him. 

He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination. 

He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you. 

He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live. 

He could always imagine the other aspects so well. 

He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness. 

But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried. 

He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness. 

He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too. 

Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you. 

He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips. 

“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.” 

These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly. 

In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock. 

“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.” 

Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer. 

“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.” 

In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind. 

He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it: 

Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do. 

“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.” 

He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy. 

“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-” 

“Cum for me, Stiles.” 

Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him. 

Fuck. He had fucked up. 

You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition. 

… 

Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean. 

The only problem? 

Hang to dry. 

He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition. 

… 

The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early. 

“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.” 

“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn. 

You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today. 

Focus, Stiles. Focus. 

“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him. 

“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why? 

“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke. 

But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought. 

You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole. 

If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences. 

“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him. 

He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find. 

“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”

“Everything.” 

Stiles groaned.

...

Due to much pressure, not the sequel has been posted. I am fully of the belief that this fic is complete and perfect on its own, but if you would like to keep reading, click on the link below. I highly encourage you to leave a comment before you press on, though, and tell me what you enjoyed about this fic since you have gotten this far.

Happy reading!

Keeping Reading Here: Stupid For You - Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

[mysumeow]

︵ ☆ Malleus NSFW Alphabet (S-Z) Pt. 3

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: AFAB body reader. Brief cervix stuff mention. ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: i know cervix stuff irl is not that pleasurable to most, but in smut, i like it :D | ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ . . . TWST MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You could try outlasting him if you’d like to, although it’s more likely that you’ll tire out before he does.

He’ll last as long as you want it to last; energy’s not a limitation. If you’re in the mood for more than one round, he’s up for it.

That’s under normal circumstances. When he enters his rut, however, it’s another story. Just once isn’t enough. If you’re giving him a hand (or more than that), be prepared for a long night. For several days.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

In terms of technology, Malleus is not what you would think of as careful, considering how often he breaks his phone and Tamagotchi. If he owned a toy, it would meet the same fate as those.

Besides, he doesn’t deem toys necessary. His hand gets the job done.

This reasoning goes in hand regarding the use of a toy on you: unnecessary. Why would he use that when his fingers, his mouth, and his dick can provide you with pleasure. His cock is big enough to give you the stretch you crave, the warmth you seek that a measly toy won’t provide.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Most of the time, he’s pleasing. Giving you what you need.

When he’s not, he’s cruel. You aren’t sure whether he uses that excuse of wanting to wallow in you to prolong your suffering, or he means it. When you need him to go faster, to ravage you… Instead, his pace is unhurried, gripping your hips with decided strength to keep you in place, not letting you buck your hips to reach that orgasm that’s just there but not quite…

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

For someone that’s not experienced, he controls his volume well. Even when he speaks, his voice is collected. During sex, he’s not loud, but each groan is like a reward. They’re so pleasant to listen to. His words might stutter a bit when he’s exerting himself, but he keeps it low.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sometimes he gets an urge to bind your hands. For you to grant your pleasure to his mercy. To see how far he can push before you start begging him to let you orgasm. Or, on the contrary, if you're bratty, he wants to see for how long you can keep it up.

If he can be a menace when in bed under normal conditions...if you willingly let him tie your hands to the bed post, be prepared for a long night.

X = X-ray

Even if you’re dripping wet, it can be a bit of a challenge to take it all. It stretches you in a way unlike anything else you’ve tried before, and you could soon find yourself unsatisfied if you try to find that same feeling with a toy or your hand. Even by fae standards, he’s above average in size. Once you get used to his length, you’ll feel the tip stimulate your cervix.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Since his feelings for you grew to the point of no return, he finds himself thinking about you a lot more often. Those thoughts arise with more mild intentions, such as taking a stroll across campus with you to take in the true majesty of gargoyles, see how you take care of his pet Tamagotchi…the ideas spiral into something less idle and more salacious. He itches to have you underneath him again, to clutch your legs open while he seizes everything you have to offer, to worship you with kisses—suddenly, there’s a strain under his pants.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Malleus catches his breath faster than you do, and if he notices you’re drowsy, he’ll hold you and wait for you to fall asleep first. He’s still got energy left, so he stays awake a little longer than you do. He can’t fight back against somnolence when you look that placid in dreams, and after a moment, he falls asleep too.

[speed-world]

Idea for a story...based off something I saw somewhere else.

Y/n sucked into the cookie run kingdom game and transformed into a cookie and is a complete coward...like cookies, if they want y/n to come with them on adventures, have to bribe y/n into coming...or drag them as they scream in fear. They are terrified of plot because they know what happens in the cookie run story and feel like they wouldn't survive....

Buuuuut then, as they progress through the story, more cookies are revealed to love y/n and their presence in general make the cookies...nicer and more focused on making y/n happy than the plot lol. Like they start making sure y/n has their treats, that y/n is having fun, etc!

Cowardice…Pays Off?!

(Is this self aware? Kinda i guess right?)

You aren’t sure how or why this happened. One moment you were just by yourself, ready to play a newly downloaded Cookie Run Kingdom-The Game. You saw a lot of videos about its story and characters, and you wanted to give it a shot since it all seemed so cool!! Then, just as you started the game up, your game glitched and got stuck. The screen of your phone went blank. Then, like a vortex, it pulled you inside of the game and your entire body composition changed. You were flat, smelled appetizing, and you were a lot smaller than you were supposed to be.

You became a cookie…which horrifies you immensely!

Sure, it sounded neat to be surrounded by the characters that you loved, until you realize that you now have to go through the same story as them. A story that you knew most of the outcomes…

As you finally came to, you heard the crashing sounds of asteroids from outside. You studied your surroundings a bit more until you realized: This is the Final Battle of the Dark Flour War, which surely means-

“This is��Oh no, what a horrible sight.”

“The whole place is covered in Cookie crumbs!”

You heard footsteps of 5 cookies approaching you. You vividly remembered there words as the same words from the Final Battle prologue scene. But of course, you were there. And you noticed that the Ancients immediately froze and changed once they saw you.

“Despite the foul stench and scene, it appears that a Cookie made it after all…”

“Ah! W-wait, I-I’m not s-supposed to uh— p-please I-I’m so scared, d-don’t h-hurt me p-please!!” You freaked out at the realization, and buried your face in your knees. Tears welled up in your eyes as you began to weep.

Pure Vanilla Cookie softly approached you and caressed your back. He sat down in front of you and held your arm.

“We promise you, the last thing we’d ever want is to hurt you! You don’t have to worry, we’re here to protect you with our own lives, you have my word! I’m Pure Vanilla Cookie, may I know who you are?”

With how softly and assuring he spoke, you held his hand and nodded.

“Y/N…I’m Y/N.”

You hugged him out of instinct, which definitely surprised the healer, but he didn’t mind at all. He reciprocated the hug and then hugged even tighter…as if he’s been waiting for this specific hug with you for a while

“A-wait! You g-guys have to leave!! D-D-Dark E-Enchantress Cookie is too strong for y-you all!! Y-you won’t win against her!!” You panicked as you remembered the fate that awaited the Ancients. They all looked surprised initially, but then they all looked more determined than ever.

“While your concern is appreciated, we assure that we won’t back down from Dark Enchantress Cookie. We’ll take her down AND make assure your safety at the same time.”

You looked at Golden Cheese Cookie, quietly pleading with her and the other Ancients to not go and fight this battle. They all do their best to reassure and comfort you, hoping that you understand they can’t abandon this fight. One Ancient however, stared at you differently than the others. She looked at you as if…she actually knew who you were…

White Lily Cookie saw you catch onto her staring, and she shook her head to snap back to reality.

“I-I believe we should get ready! W-We need t-to find Dark Enchantress Cookie before she finds us!”

And then, as if on cue, you all notice the sounds of Cake Hounds rapidly charging at you. The Ancients ready themselves to fight, and you trembled as you got to your feet. You hid behind Hollyberry Cookie, tightly holding onto her for dear life and shutting your eyes…until you felt various Cake Hounds nuzzling your legs. You opened your eyes to the cute creatures smiling at you and not hurting you at all, which confused the Ancients.

“Shouldn’t these Cake Hounds be attacking us? These are Dark Enchantress Cookie’s forces, and yet they’re…rolling around and nuzzling us?!”

“It appears they’ve a fondness for Y/N. We could use this to our advantage, let’s move!”

Dark Cacao Cookie scooped you up with one arm and carried you as the Ancients ran to the castle area where Dark Enchantress Cookie was.

You screamed and pleaded to not go with them since you knew what would happen. Since comforting you didn’t seem to work, two Ancients had the bright idea of bribing you to come along.

“Come now Y/N, I promise to gift with riches beyond your dreams after we win this fight! I’ll even let these Cake Hounds be with you, but you’ll spend more time with me, my closest treasure~!”

“I’ll be sure to grace you with the finest berry juice ever! My treat!! You’ll never have to worry with me around, I promise you!!”

You were more relaxed after hearing the offers of Hollyberry Cookie and Golden Cheese Cookie. After a while, you noticed everyone had stopped moving. You slowly looked up in horror…Dark Enchantress Cookie was waiting there.

“And so, upon the ruins of your home we finally meet. And it would appear…that you brought an uninvited guest~.”

…She was talking about you. You met your worried eyes with hers, but she didn’t look at you with malice. More she looked down at you like a mother would a little child…and you had no clue how to react.

Pure Vanilla Cookie stood in front of you, and had hardened gaze on Dark Enchantress Cookie.

“Dark Enchantress Cookie! What is the meaning of this?”

“Now, now. No need to be so hostile. In fact, I have a…proposition for you lot.”

“Proposition? What nonsense are you rambling about now?”

Dark Enchantress Cookie focused her gaze on you. You hid behind Pure Vanilla Cookie, but Dark Enchantress’s eyes never stopped following your movements.

“I would like to believe that we have a common interest. The Cookie that you’re shielding - Y/N I believe was your name, no? - There’s something about them that’s quite incredible, wouldn’t you say~?”

“What…w-w-what are y-you getting a-at?!” You decided to speak, or more stutter, for yourself.

“I’m saying I believe we’ve all taken an interest in you. Dare I say, we can come to a deal: I’ll cease my own vision for the world in exchange for the safety and prosperity of Y/N. Does that sound alright with you?”

You were very reluctant to respond, mostly because of how much you were taken aback by this. Is this really the same Dark Enchantress Cookie you remember?! Apparently, the Ancients had the same conflicted expressions. None of them truly knew what to say about this ordeal.

“Can we really trust her words? This could easily be just another scheme-“

“I AM serious about this, mind YOU! It’s abundantly clear none of us want Y/N in any kind of danger, and I can see it clearly in your eyes—all of us feel a special attraction to them, despite the odd circumstance~. There’s no reason to lie about it.”

You looked to the rest of the Ancients in anticipation. You had zero idea what the right answer was, if there was one, but you just prayed that you wouldn’t be hurt in any way.

“…..Fine then. For the sake of all Cookiekind, and for Y/N, we’ll trust you. But know this Dark Enchantress Cookie, we will fight you again if you ever back down from your word!”

“Hah, you won’t have to look forward to it~…”

————————————————————————

It’s been a while since then, and you still have no idea how to feel about your situation.

On one hand, literally nothing wants to harm you in any way. Every Cookie you’ve met has been extremely kind and generous to you, even if they’re evil aligned. The Bear Jellies are so warm and welcoming, and the Sugar Gnomes have virtually become your best supportive friends. Not to mention the Cake Hounds being head over heels for you, which you reciprocated the love for them.

On the other hand…there always seemed to be some small layer of tension whenever Dark Enchantress Cookie comes to see you. She’s always super nice to you, giving you immense affection that at times seems out of character.

Of course, the Ancients always get slightly agitated when Dark Enchantess Cookie visits. Especially Golden Cheese Cookie and White Lily Cookie, who really got upset whenever Dark Enchantress took you away from them.

Granted, White Lily made some sense with her relationship with Dark Enchantress.

But Golden Cheese really took offense to whenever you’re attention was taken off of her

In any sense, the most confusing thing was whenever the Cookies wanted to take you on adventures. Mainly the Gingerbrave gang.

You were incredibly scared of going with them, mostly because you knew of the danger of their adventures and thought you’d either be harmed or get in their way.

Whenever a Cookie invites you to travel with them, they always make sure your safety is prioritized. Sometimes they’ll try to bribe you with treats, gifts, or rewards if you tag along.

But sometimes, they’ll abandon their plans just to be with you and make sure you’re comfortable.

This life of yours was so odd and scary, but your fears would eventually wash away with how much the Cookies would treasure your being above all else. You’d grow to enjoy and love the affection and care, even if it seemed to be overwhelming at times.

[hoe4hotchner]

can i req aaron with an s/o who's ovulating or has a high sex drive and is easily turned on by him (regardless of if he's trying to or not)

The Hotchner effect | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 2.0k | CW: MDNI, 18+, smut, Couch sex.

A/N: Well…… this was the smut I was excited about writing the night before I was hit by that car. So, here you guys go ;) To anyone interested: I've almost made a full recovery at this point. In a couple of days I'll probably be 100% fine again :D

You always thought you had decent control over yourself and your body—at least until you met Aaron Hotchner. Somehow, just being around him tested your limits, especially when he wasn’t even trying. Every. Single. Day. Whether it was his voice, as low and commanding as it was when you visited him in the middle of a case brief at the BAU, or the way his tie shifted as he rolled up his sleeves, everything he did made your heart race—and that was on a normal day.

But today? Today, your hormones were in overdrive. Ovulating didn’t just make you aware of him; it made everything he did feel like it was specifically designed to unravel you. All of your senses tuned onto his wavelengths.

His scent lingering in the sheets—hypnotizing.

The sound of his footsteps across the floor—ears perked.

Every little twitch and movement he made—you suddenly had 20/20 vision.

Like now, as he stood in the kitchen casually pouring himself a cup of coffee before retreating back to his office. The crisp white shirt he wore hugged his frame just right, the fabric stretched taut across his broad shoulders, his suit jacket long forgotten on the back of his chair after he had returned home.

He wasn’t even speaking, but the way he leaned against the counter, so composed and yet so authoritative, was enough to make your stomach flip and your thoughts veer wildly off course.

“Are you alright?” His voice cut through your haze, and you froze, realizing you’d been staring at him.

“Uh, yeah! Fine. Totally fine,” you said quickly, reaching for a cup as if that was why you’d been standing there in the first place.

His lips twitched in a faint smile, and you cursed internally because even that was hot. Damn him.

The problem was, Aaron knew. Maybe not the full extent of it, but he was far too observant not to notice the way your breath hitched when he looked at you or how your cheeks flushed whenever he got too close. And right now, you could see the flicker of amusement in his dark eyes as he stepped closer, seemingly to grab the sugar.

“Sure you’re fine?” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You gripped the counter, your body betraying you as heat flushed through your skin. “Y-yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

His gaze lingered, assessing, and for a moment, you thought he might press further. But instead, he leaned back, sipping his coffee, completely unbothered by the chaos he was causing inside you.

The rest of the day wasn’t any better. Whether it was the way he adjusted his tie, the faint scruff on his jaw after a long phone call, or how his hand brushed yours when he came out of the office for a moment, you were practically vibrating with tension.

By the time he finished his workload, you were ready to combust.

Aaron was undoing his cufflinks when you finally snapped. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” you blurted, crossing your arms as you stood in the middle of the living room.

He glanced up, eyebrows raised, but the smirk tugging at his lips told you everything. “I might have an idea,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, and damn him again because he was still so calm, so composed, while you were unraveling.

“You’re driving me insane, Aaron,” you confessed, and this time, his smirk softened into something deeper, more knowing.

“Come here,” he said, his tone shifting, and the weight of it alone made your knees weak.

You didn’t hesitate, crossing the space between you in an instant. His hands found your waist, pulling you close as his lips brushed your temple. “You know,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “I’ve been trying to keep my distance all day because I could tell you were… distracted.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh. “Distracted is an understatement.”

His fingers tightened slightly on your hips, his lips grazing your ear now. “Well, sweetheart, I’m all yours now.”

And that was all it took for you to finally close the gap, pulling him into a kiss that was every bit as heated as the tension that had been simmering between you all day.

As soon as your lips met, it was like all the pent-up desire and arousal from the day came pouring out in a wave of pure, unbridled passion. Your kiss was hungry, almost feral, your hands roaming over Aaron's body as if trying to memorize every edge and angle.

Aaron groaned into your mouth, his own hands slipping under your shirt to explore the soft skin of your back. He tugged impatiently at the fabric, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it aside before his fingers quickly found the clasp of your bra and unhooked it.

His gaze raked over your exposed breasts as he freed them.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, palming your one, the callous on his fingers rough against your skin. "You're so gorgeous. I can't get enough of you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your nipples hardening almost painfully under his touch. You arched into his hand, a needy whimper escaping your lips. He took the opportunity to lower his head and capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasurable pain straight to your core.

You cried out, tangling your fingers in his hair and holding him close. He lavished attention on your breasts, alternating between nipping and sucking until you were writhing against him, your body aching for more. Your hands scrabbled at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Aaron seemed to understand, moving back just long enough to yank his shirt off before continuing his attack on you again. The feel of his bare chest against yours was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your nerves. You ran your hands over his muscles, marveling at the way they flexed beneath your touch.

Your arousal was growing with each passing second, and your panties soaked. You could feel the heat building between your legs, your body crying out for release. Aaron seemed to sense it, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "Tell me what you need, baby," he murmured, his fingers toying with the button. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

His words were like a match thrown in a puddle of gasoline, igniting the fire in your veins. "I need you," you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. "I need you inside me. Please, Aaron, fuck me."

A wicked grin spread across Aaron's face, his eyes glinting with promise. "With pleasure," he purred, popping the button of your pants and sliding them down your legs. You kicked them off eagerly, leaving you in nothing but a damp pair of panties.

Aaron drank in the sight of you, his gaze trailing over every inch of exposed skin. "God, you're perfect," he breathed, running a finger along the edge of your panties. "So perfect."

He hooked his fingers under the fabric, slowly pulling them down and baring you completely to his hungry gaze. You flushed under his scrutiny, but the heat of his stare only served to fuel your desire. He leaned you back, the weight os his body pressing against you as your back hit the cushion of the couch.

"I'm going to taste every inch of you," he promised as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. "I'm going to make you come so hard you forget your own name."

And with that, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue delving into your already dripping folds. You cried out at the first touch, your back arching off the couch. He lapped at you greedily, his tongue exploring every crevice and fold, finding all the spots that made you gasp and moan. He knew you too well.

Your hands flew to his hair, holding him in place as he worked you over with skill. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head, your hips rocking against his mouth in a desperate search for more. He obliged happily, sliding two fingers inside you and curling them just right, hitting the spot that made stars blind your vision.

"Oh god, Aaron," you keened, your head thrashing from side to side. "Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm so close."

He doubled his efforts, sucking hard on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, building and building until it finally washed over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy.

You screamed his name as you came, your body convulsing beneath him. He worked you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you were boneless and spent, collapsing back against the mattress. But Aaron was far from done with you.

He crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that tasted of your own arousal. You could feel his stiffness pressing against you, hot and insistent. Breaking the kiss, he reached down to undo his pants, shoving them down just far enough to free his cock.

"I need to be inside you," he grunted, positioning himself at your entrance. "I need to feel you wrapped around me. Think you can take one more, for me?"

You nodded breathlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He surged forward, burying himself inside you with one smooth thrust. You both groaned at the sensation, your bodies fitting together like they were made for each other.

Aaron set a hard and fast pace, his hips snapping against yours with each powerful stroke. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of pleasure. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle and allowing him to go even deeper.

"You feel amazing," he panted, his eyes locked on yours. "So tight and wet and perfect. I never want this to end."

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, your walls clenching around him in response, your eyes watering from pure bliss. He groaned at the sensation, his thrusts becoming erratic and uncoordinated as he chased his own release.

You could feel another orgasm building low in your belly, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each pass of his cock. "Harder," you gasped, digging your nails into his back. "Fuck me harder, Aaron."

He obliged with a guttural moan, hammering into you with all his strength. The bed creaked beneath you, rocking with the force of his thrusts. You could feel him pulsing inside you, growing thicker and harder with each passing second.

"Cum for me, baby," he groaned, his voice strained with effort. "Come all over my cock. I want to feel you squeezing me."

His words were all it took to send you hurtling over the edge once more. You came with a near-silent scream, your body shuddering and convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Aaron followed a second later, burying himself deep inside you and flooding your womb with his seed.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you gasping for breath as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasms. He pressed soft kisses to your face and neck, murmuring words of love and devotion against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you whispered back, tangling your fingers in his hair. "More than anything."

He smiled against your skin, rolling onto his side and pulling you close. You nestled into his arms, your body still tingling with pleasure. As you drifted off to sleep, safe and sated in his embrace, you knew that this was where you belonged.

[howi99]

Jaune: *transporting Yang on his back, entering team RWBY's room* Hey Ruby!

Ruby: ... Jaune, why is my sister unconscious?

Jaune: *delicately posing the sleeping beauty in her bed* Honestly? No clues! We were just walking to the arcade when i saw a guy doing some sick move on a skateboard. So i grabbed her hands and-

Ruby: *cutting him in a panic* WAIT! HOLD ON!

Jaune: *confused* What did i-

Ruby: YOU HOLD HER HAND!?

Jaune: ... Y-yeah? *Scratching his head* Does she hate it-

Ruby: *grabbing him by the shoulders* THEN WHAT HAPPENED!?

Jaune: U-uh... Well...

_ 1h ago _

Jaune: *holding Yang's hand, smiling* That guy was awesome, right? Man, those tricks were sick!

Yang: *Blushing* Y-yeah! Totally! *Looking at their hands* (OMG OMG! WE ARE HOLDING HANDS!? ALREADY?!? BUT WE AREN'T EVEN DATING!!!)

Jaune: *who was continuing talking* -So, you'd like some?

Yang: *who absolutely didn't listen* (That sounds like an invitation! S-should i accept!?) U-uh yeah, sure!

Jaune: *beaming* Awesome! I heard they made some of the best noodles in town and-

Yang: *panicking* (RESTAURANT!? OH MY GOSH, THIS IS A DATE!!!) J-Jaune, d-don't you think we should take it a bit slower?

Jaune: *confused* Hm? *Worried* Oh, am i walking too fast? *Apologetic smile* I'm sorry, i just got excited about the food i guess.

Yang: ... (ALERT! ALERT! HE'S SEDUCING US! THAT IDIOT DOESN'T EVEN TRY AND WE ARE FOLDING LIKE A CAMPING CHAIR!) *Cough in her hand, trying to hide how much of a blushing mess she is* It's fine, d-don't worry!

_ _ _

Ruby: *recoil* YOU TOOK HER TO A RESTAURANT!?

Jaune: ... I mean, it was more of a food stand but-

Ruby: WHAT ELSE?!

Jaune: N-not much! We just finished eating when-

_ 30min ago _

Yang: *Finishing her bowl* Damn, that was good! *Grinning, hitting Jaune's arm playfully* Should have brought me here sooner, that place's the best! (Oof, i was just imagining things. Man, i really need to calm myself, huh?)

Jaune: *looking at Yang, seeing a little bit of noodle stuck on her face* Hm... Yang, you got something on your face.

Yang: Wait, really? Where-

Jaune : *Remove it delicately with a smile, his hand brushing her face slightly* Here, all good to go!

Yang: ... (FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!)

Jaune: *tilting his head* Is everything alright?

Yang: *Blushing madely* O-o-of c-course! J-just a bit hot, that's all! (VB, STOP! I'M GOING TO MELT! YOU ARE KILLING ME WITH KINDNESS!)

Jaune: *worried* Yang, you are completely red... *Putting his hand on her forehead* You are burning! *Grabbing her hands* He-here, i'll boost your aura and-

_ _ _

Jaune: And she lost consciousness right there. *Scratch his head* I really don't understand, she was fine and then BAM! K.O!

Ruby: ... So that's what dad warned us about.

Jaune: What?

Ruby: *shaking her head with a sigh, going out of the room* Just... Good luck. *Close the door*

Jaune: *confused* ... Good luck? *Feeling a sensation of dread as he felt something warm on his back* ... Y-Yang?

Yang: *smiling like an angel* Yes~?

Jaune: *blushing* W-why can't i feel your jacket?

Yang: *chuckle* Oh Jaune... You have no idea how much you are going to enjoy this~

[slutforguns]

the club spying on jerry and the girl (reader) hes hanging out with cuz i feel like jerry is the only one who could have a slightly normal relationship with a girl and the club would hate it

I wanna thank you for giving me an excuse to write for my favorite character 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Also yeah, your right. They'd fucking HATE it lol

Teen Jerry x fem!reader || Sneaking around

Josh let out an annoyed grunt as Pete was pushed against him in the tiny bush, while Bill stayed quiet, keeping his binoculars up and pointed at Jerry's window.

"Can you tell me why we're here, Bill?" Josh complained with a slightly bitter tone.

"Shut it, fatty. We're making sure Jerry doesn't die." Bill responded, sounding a little annoyed by the, in his eyes, pointless question.

"Die? To that chick?" Pete piped up, a little confused. "Ya kidding? She seems harmless."

But Bill just rolled his eyes.

Meanwhile, Jerry sat awkwardly on his couch, the movie he put on playing in the background as he tried to subtly glance over at you.

"S-So... You into Lord of The Rings?"

"Hm?" You hummed with confusion before realizing. "O-Oh! The movie? Yeah, it's good." You said awkwardly, looking away with a slightly embarrassed expression.

"Y-Yeah, I think so too..." He said with a nervous chuckle.

His knee bounced anxiously as he looked at the TV, his palms growing sweatier and sweatier by the minute.

A few minutes of awkward and tense silence passed over the two of you, before Jerry cleared his throat to get your attention.

"D-Do you want any snacks? I have popcorn?"

You nodded quietly, still not looking at him.

Bill scowled a little. "Jesus, what is he doing?" He asked himself under his breath.

"I dunno, can I go home now?" Pete asked with a bit so pleased tone as he played.

"No, Pete, we can't! If we do, we're gonna lose Jerry to some random pair of boobs!"

Pete just rolled his eyes. "God, fine.. fuck man." He mumbled under his breath as he sunk back down into the bushes.

Jerry came back with the popcorn, and awkwardly placed the bowl between the both of you.

You looked over at the bowl, then at Jerry, then at the TV screen.

As you reached for the bowl, Jerry did as well. (Ok it's cliche, but shut up.)

Jerry jumped a little at the contact and quickly pulled away.

You frowned a little at that. You let out a small sigh and stood up from the couch.

"Y'know, this was really sweet, but I-I should get going." You said sheepishly as you rubbed your forearm with your hand, shifting awkwardly where you stood.

Jerry frowned and reached out to grab your arm. "W-Wait! I-I just-..." He trailed off, not really sure what to say.

"Oh my God, what is he doing?" Bill mumbled under his breath as he continued stalking watching the two of you from a far.

Jerry looked up at you nervously. "You... You don't have to leave, I just-... Y'know, you, uh..." Crap. He has no idea what to say.

He let out a soft sigh and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "L-Look, I know I'm not.. the best option, but I-I really like you. And I wanna prove it besides watching some stupid movie with you." He said, looking away so he wouldn't die of embarrassment. He can't believe he just called The Lord of The Rings stupid!

You looked down at him, and smiled just a bit. You reached out and cupped his face, before pressing your lips gently against his.

Bill's jaw dropped. "NO FUCKING WAY!" He shouted with rage and annoyance.

Josh looked over at Bill, and Pete woke up from the nap he was taking and shot up.

"What, Bill? What'd you see?" Josh asked eagerly, trying to grab the binoculars to see what was going on.

When Josh finally got the binoculars, he pointed them at Jerry's window, and his jaw dropped. "No way..."

Pete rolled his eyes. "Oh c'mon," he said as he snatched the binoculars, "you guys are being- holy shit Jerry's kissing her!" Pete exclaimed with a bit of surprise.

Jerry sat there frozen, before you pulled away. He was already missing the feeling of your lips on his.

You looked down at him, and smiled. "There's and ice cream shop a few blocks away. You, uh... Wanna go there instead?" You asked with a slightly nervous chuckle.

Jerry nodded. "Be-de-be-de-be-de... I-I mean yeah! I think I have twenty bucks if you're up for it!"

"I'd love that, Jer."

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Twenty-One} {<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Damon Salvatore x F!Reader} Request {Anon}: This is for your Kinktober event! I've had this idea floating around since your story with Damon S and Elijah. Threesome/Cumplay/Squirting Fem!Reader getting taken to Paris by D & E only for Elijah to cum inside them and Damon eats it out. This is pure filth, I know! Love your writing!

♡♡♡ Omggg, YOUR MIND!!!!! Holy hell this idea is perfection. First, I'm so thrilled you were inspired by Respect! It's based on one of my favorite Elijah moments from TVD (& favorite ship) IF ONLY THE WRITERS WERE BRAVE ENOUGH. Second, because I love you & your beautiful mind... YOU GET A CERTFICATE. This isn't a greedy amount of kinks... but in the idea.... well... (see bottom of post for your reward) ♡♡♡

3.5k words - Kinks: very very very bisexual, threesome, squirting, you and Damon worshipping Elijah (duh!), Elijah being dom, oral sex (m & f receiving) &&& lots of filth ...

When Damon insisted on you wearing a blindfold as you exited the plane, you knew something was up. You let him take your hand, leading you out of the cabin and down the steps. As you felt a cool breeze tickle your legs and a new smell fill your nose, you frowned.

"Can I take this off now?" You asked, referring to the blindfold.

"No," said the voice of Elijah. You could hear the smirk on his lips, and the fact that you couldn't see him made you want to take it off even more. "Patience, my love."

You grumbled a bit, nearly tripping down the last step. But you felt the firm grip of Damon's hands on your hips, and his body behind yours.

As soon as your feet hit the ground, he took a few steps away, and you heard two car doors open.

"In," said Damon. "I'm in the back with you."

"So bossy," you teased.

You slid in, Damon's hands helping guide you into the backseat. Elijah was already sitting next to you, his arm draped around your shoulders. His warmth seeped through his suit jacket, and you relaxed into his touch.

Damon got in next to you and closed the door.

"I can't wait to be alone with you both," you whispered, nuzzling into Elijah's neck.

"Don't worry, love," said Elijah, kissing the top of your head. "We have a lot planned for you."

Damon placed a hand on your thigh, sliding it up your leg. Your skirt had bunched up from sitting down, and Damon's fingers brushed your bare skin.

"Are we really doing this now?" You asked.

"Why not?" Damon chuckled, but before he could go further, Elijah’s grip tightened subtly on your shoulder.

"Later," he said, his tone firm, but there was a promise hidden in his words. Damon sighed in mock frustration, pulling his hand away, but you could sense the unspoken exchange between the two of them. The silent communication they shared only heightened the anticipation, the feeling of being wanted by both of them.

You were tempted to take Damon’s hand and slide it back to where you needed it most, but the teasing was part of the game. And you loved the game.

The rest of the drive was filled with a charged silence, your senses heightened by the darkness behind the blindfold and the warmth of both men pressed close to you. The car eventually stopped, and Damon helped you out, your fingers clutching his as you carefully followed him across uneven cobblestones.

The sounds around you, the distant chatter in French, the soft hum of city life, gave away your location before they even removed the blindfold. You were in Paris, the city of love, and your heart leaped in excitement.

Finally, you stopped. You heard keys jingling, a lock turning, and then Elijah’s hands were on you, slipping the blindfold away.

“Welcome,” he said softly, his voice filled with affection. “To our little getaway.”

The room before you was luxurious, the golden hues of the décor bathed in the fading light from a large window overlooking the Eiffel Tower. It felt like a dream, one they had crafted just for you.

You spun to face them, a broad grin spreading across your lips. "Paris!" you squealed, leaping into Elijah’s arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Thank you!”

Elijah chuckled, catching you easily. “Only the best for you, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice a deep, comforting hum in your ear.

Damon was speaking to the staff in French, ordering room service and more than a few bottles of champagne.

"What would you like to do first?" Elijah asked.

"Well," you started, walking over to the window. You glanced out, admiring the view. The sun was setting just past the city, making everything glow. "First, I'd like to enjoy a bottle of champagne. Then… maybe, a tour?"

"Whatever the lady wants," said Damon, grinning.

Elijah kissed your forehead and excused himself to the bathroom, and as soon as the door shut behind him, Damon was in front of you, kissing your neck.

“Oh, hello,” you laughed, your hands finding their way to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric.

“Hi,” Damon whispered against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hands were on your hips, tugging you back against him. “I was thinking we might stay in tonight... just the three of us.”

You turned in his arms, the tension between you palpable. “I like the way you think,” you murmured, brushing your lips against his.

Without wasting another second, Damon pulled you to the bed, laying you down on the plush mattress, his hands never leaving your body. He crawled over you, pressing his lips to yours, a gentle moan escaping his mouth. You reached down, trying to work the button on his jeans.

You barely heard the door open, but Elijah cleared his throat, and you and Damon pulled apart.

"Don't stop on my account," he smirked, and Damon gave him a look, which made Elijah chuckle. "You can keep going."

You grinned, but before you could pull Damon back to you, there was a knock at the door.

"Damn it," groaned Damon.

"That would be our food," Elijah said.

Damon pouted and rolled off you, and you stifled a laugh. Elijah moved to answer the door, tipping the delivery man generously and pulling a cart filled with food and drink inside.

Champagne flutes were filled, bubbles rising in the golden liquid as the three of you clinked glasses. You took a long sip, savoring the moment. The sunset outside bathed the room in a soft glow, and for a moment, everything was perfect. Still, warm, full of anticipation.

Elijah’s gaze darkened as he looked at you, the intensity of his stare making heat rise in your chest. Damon, always quick to follow suit, watched you with that familiar mischievous glint in his eye.

You placed your glass down, feeling the charge in the air shift. Elijah’s hand slipped under your chin, guiding you into a kiss. His mouth was firm, insistent, tasting of champagne. His control was intoxicating, and you melted into him, giving in to the feeling.

When his lips left yours, you barely had time to miss the taste of him before Damon’s mouth was on you. His hands roamed your body, sending sparks of pleasure through your skin.

"Mm," Elijah chuckled, his voice low and teasing. "I do love it when you're greedy."

"I want this off," you whined, tugging at his suit jacket impatiently. "Now."

With a grin, he stepped back, slowly slipping out of his clothes, revealing the toned, muscular body underneath. Your eyes darted to Damon, raising your eyebrows in silent challenge.

"I'm not taking anything off until you do," Damon teased, his gaze smoldering.

You smiled, getting on your knees on the bed, and slipped your dress over your head, tossing it to the floor. The cool air grazed your skin, but the way their eyes lingered on you, like they were ready to devour you, sent warmth flooding through your body.

Damon followed suit, stripping off his shirt and jeans. You leaned back, watching as they undressed, their bodies a tantalizing display of strength and desire.

“I think the lady likes what she sees," Elijah smirked, his eyes dark with intent.

"You could say that," Damon agreed, his gaze drifting over Elijah's body before locking on yours. The hunger between them was palpable, and seeing it unfold before you made your pulse race. 

Elijah stepped closer to Damon, his hand pressing against his chest, guiding him back onto the bed. Damon grinned up at him, and Elijah bent down, their lips crashing together in a rough, heated kiss. It was raw and unrestrained, their desire for each other on full display. 

Without breaking the kiss, Elijah's hand reached out, tangling in your hair, pulling you in with a growl. 

"Come here," he commanded, his voice husky.

You moved closer, and he claimed your lips with the same intensity, his kiss demanding and unapologetic. His tongue pushed into your mouth, sending a wave of need through you that made you moan. When he pulled back, his eyes flicked between you and Damon, a wicked gleam lighting up his face.

"On your knees," he ordered, the edge in his voice impossible to ignore.

You and Damon exchanged a quick, knowing glance before grinning and obeying. You both sank to the floor as Elijah, ever the gentleman, threw down a pillow for your knees. You shot him a grateful smile, placing a quick kiss on his thigh.

Standing tall before you, his erection just inches from your face, Elijah looked down at you both, the power of the moment simmering in his eyes. You and Damon leaned forward together, tongues flicking out to lick up and down his length, your mouths meeting as you worshiped him. 

The sensation of Damon's lips alongside the heat of Elijah's cock on your tongue had you whimpering in arousal, your body aching for more.

"Oh, love," Elijah purred, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided his cock deeper into your mouth. "Is someone feeling needy?"

You nodded, eyes wide and desperate, and Elijah chuckled softly, clearly relishing the control he held. The feeling of him filling your mouth made your core throb with desire.

"What about you?" Elijah asked, turning his gaze to Damon.

"Always," Damon replied, his smirk wicked as ever.

Elijah shifted, pulling you off him with a firm hand in your hair, making you whimper in protest at the sudden emptiness. His hand found Damon's hair next, pulling him closer. "Your turn. Take what you need."

Damon wasted no time, taking Elijah's cock into his mouth with a practiced ease, his head bobbing up and down as he worked him with skilled precision. You watched in awe, your arousal growing as the wet sounds of his lips sliding over Elijah’s shaft filled the air.

Not wanting to be left out, you leaned in and kissed along Elijah’s length, your tongue tracing the path Damon had just left, meeting his in the process. Your hand slipped down to fondle Elijah's balls, rolling them gently between your fingers as you both continued to worship him.

The way Elijah groaned, his head thrown back in pleasure, only spurred you on. The tension built in the room, palpable and intense.

"Enough," Elijah growled, his voice ragged as he pushed you both away.

You and Damon fell back, sitting on the floor, gazing up at him, your chests rising and falling as you caught your breath.

"So perfect," Elijah murmured, his gaze sweeping over you both with clear admiration. He ran his thumb over your lips before leaning down to kiss you, the weight of his dominance ever-present. His hand curled around the back of your neck, and with a playful shove, he pushed you back onto the bed.

You landed with a breathless laugh, looking up at him, your body buzzing with anticipation. His devilish grin made your pulse quicken as he turned his attention back to Damon. Their mouths met again in another fierce kiss, their bodies grinding against each other, and the sight was intoxicating.

Unable to resist, you slid a hand between your legs, teasing yourself as you watched them. A soft moan escaped your lips, drawing their attention.

Both Elijah and Damon broke the kiss, turning their gaze to you. The look in their eyes was nothing short of predatory.

"Look at you," Elijah teased, his voice dripping with desire. "Already so desperate."

You bit your lip, spreading your legs wider, showing off the wet patch on your panties. "What do you think, Damon?" Elijah asked, not breaking eye contact with you. "Should we give her what she wants?"

Damon's eyes darkened with lust as they swept over you. "I think we should have a taste," he said with a wicked grin.

The two of them crawled onto the bed, one on either side of you. They leaned in, their tongues lapping at your breasts. Elijah pulled your nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting, and Damon's hand drifted down, slipping under the wet fabric. You gasped as his fingers brushed over your clit, teasing you. You moaned and pushed against him, desperate for more. Your eyes wide and desperate, locked with his.

Elijah’s lips ghosted down your stomach, the heat of his breath sending shivers across your skin. His stubble tickled as he moved lower, replacing Damon's hand to slide your panties off. Lifting your legs onto his shoulders, he dipped down, and the warm sensation of his tongue circling your clit made you moan, arching your back toward him.

Damon bent down, capturing your lips, muffling your cries. His tongue slipped into your mouth, his hand cupping your face. You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your core, the sensation growing stronger and stronger. You reached down, your fingers tangling in Elijah's hair, pulling him closer. You rocked against his face, and his arm wrapped around your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin.

Damon pulled back, his hands pinning your arms to the bed. He held you down, watching as you writhed under their touch. His bright blue eyes wild and lustful.

The orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing through your body as you cried out Elijah's name. Pleasure rushed through you, leaving your thighs slick and Elijah’s face glistening. Damon released your arms, chuckling as he looked at Elijah's usually impeccable appearance, now messy with your wetness.

"That's a good look for you," Damon teased, leaning in to lick Elijah’s chin. Elijah shot him a dark, hungry look before grabbing Damon and pulling him into a rough kiss.

You sat up, watching the two of them. Elijah pulled away, and his gaze snapped back to you

"Lie down," he ordered. "And spread your legs."

You obeyed without hesitation, anticipation thrumming through you. Elijah's hand slipped between Damon's thighs, stroking him slowly. His touch made Damon moan, his hips jerking in response.

Elijah glanced back at you, smirking. "Do you see how much he needs me?"

"Yes," you breathed, watching them hungrily.

"And I need you," Elijah said, his voice softening as he turned his attention back to you. He pushed Damon onto the bed next to you, crawling between your legs. His eyes met yours, full of intensity and adoration.

"Please," you whispered, lifting your hips to him.

Elijah positioned himself at your entrance, pushing into you, inch by inch. His mouth found yours, claiming it in a hungry kiss. Damon watched from the side, his own hand stroking his length.

You wrapped your legs around Elijah's waist, pulling him deeper, the delicious feeling of being filled by him making you cry out in pleasure. He moved with slow, deep thrusts, leaning back to watch your face, savoring every reaction.

His thumb circled your clit, his touch light and teasing, and the sensation made you arch your back, desperate for more. You turned your head, finding Damon's lips, kissing him deeply as you clung to him. Damon chuckled against your lips, positioning himself so that you could take him into your mouth. You moaned around him, tasting the salty pre-cum, sucking him greedily.

Damon groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair. He held you there, fucking your mouth. You took him as deep as you could, gagging slightly, the sensation only making you want him more.

"That's it, sweetheart," Elijah cooed, his thumb rubbing faster circles on your clit. "Show him how good you can take it."

Elijah's praise, mixed with the taste of Damon's cock, the feeling of him filling your mouth, was too much, and you came again, shaking and moaning around him.

As your body spasmed, Damon pressed his hips up, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

"Fuck," he growled, his hand gripping your hair.

You felt him tense, the heat of his release pouring down your throat. You swallowed around him, sucking him clean, looking up at him through hazy, half-lidded eyes.

He grinned down at you, panting. "Good girl."

Elijah's pace was growing erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His fingers dug into your thighs, pulling you closer, his hips slamming against yours. He was letting out these sexy little moans and grunts, his jaw clenched in concentration.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice rough and low. "Come for me again."

He shifted, leaning back and thrusting harder. The new angle sent waves of pleasure through you, and you came with a cry, clinging to him as he fucked you through your release.

Elijah's eyes locked with yours, the intensity of his gaze taking your breath away, he pulled you to him, crushing his lips to yours. His hands squeezed your ass, and he thrust deep inside, bouncing you on his lap. His grip was so tight, his body trembling, the sound of him groaning against your lips filled the air. You could feel him twitching inside you, his orgasm washing over him, the feeling of his cum spilling into you making your toes curl.

Elijah pulled away, gently setting your legs back down on the bed. He walked over to the table, pouring a glass of champagne, taking a sip, watching you and Damon with a pleased look on his face.

Damon looked down at the mess between your legs, grinning. "Looks like someone enjoyed herself."

You giggled, your eyes half-lidded, a satisfied smile on your face. You reached up and cupped his beautiful face, his bright eyes twinkling. The blue seemed to grow a shade darker, his smile turning devilish, and you felt his hands on you, his touch electric.

"I don't think I'm quite done with you yet," he murmured, his breath hot on your ear.

You let out a gasp as he moved between your legs, kissing along your inner thighs, his fingers teasing your opening. He lapped up Elijah's cum, his tongue circling your sensitive clit.

"Fuck," you moaned, reaching down and pulling his hair.

Elijah watched for a moment, entranced by the sight of Damon's mouth on your cunt. He moved over to the bed, sitting behind you, his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you in place.

Damon continued, his tongue and lips working magic on your pussy, the soft sounds he made vibrating against your sensitive skin.

Elijah kissed along your shoulder, his hands roaming over your breasts, gently pinching and twisting your nipples.

"Look at him," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "So eager to please you."

You looked down at Damon, his gaze locked with yours. His tongue was lapping at your clit, his mouth sucking and licking.

"Doesn't he look pretty like that?" Elijah asked. "So focused on making you feel good."

You nodded, whimpering as the tension built inside you, your hands twisting in the sheets, pulling and gripping them.

"You're going to come for us again, aren't you?" Elijah murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You're going to come so hard. So fucking loud."

His words pushed you over the edge, and you came, screaming and bucking your hips, pushing yourself against Damon's mouth.

Your body trembled as the pleasure washed over you, wave after wave, leaving you panting and shaking. Elijah's grip tightened around you, holding you close.

Damon licked you clean, his tongue lapping up every drop. When he was finished, he kissed the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering on the soft skin.

"That's my good girl," Elijah cooed, holding you as the last of your tremors faded away.

You collapsed into his arms, the exhaustion and satisfaction taking over. You lay there for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. Damon laid down beside you, his arm draped over your stomach.

"I don't think I can move," you muttered, closing your eyes and resting your head on Elijah's chest.

Elijah chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. "Then don't."

You drifted off, wrapped in the warmth and comfort of their bodies, the sound of their breathing filling the air.

Paris was everything you could have hoped for, and more. But the best part was sharing the experience with them. This was a perfect night, and it was only just the beginning.

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[keferon]

I just saw the post about Jazz not taking care of himself and all that, and with the doodle provided on that, i for some reason, have the mental imagine of Prowl now just holding Jazz on one hand while the tiny human sleeps there, and he's just working on whatever it is that he needs to work on with one hand

Because he got scared and now does not want to let go until he's sure he's ok.

There is no context, i just saw Prowl holding tiny Jazz and now my brain itches for more of that i guess.

THO SPEAKING OF WHICH (please excuse the rambling), but like when Prowl first finds out about Jazz actually not being a mech and just this tiny soft squishy human, who, in tfp Ratchet's words, can go squish under their pedes like, now constantly panics about Jazz possibly being hurt

And under no circumstances allows him to walk on the floors in fear he might, in fact, go squish. So everytime he leaves his suit Prowl has him sit by on the tabls or straight out just carries him (bring out that meme of Finn having a pocket for Jake)

Idk, the amount of funny scenarios of Prowl having to learn about how to be careful around a human is endless and i love it, and dammit your au has been stuck in my head i can't stop looking at content for it, it's making me go insane!!

Oh and to hopefully finish my rambling off, but add huamn adrenaline to the mix. Jazz getting severally hurt, but the adrenaline keeps him kicking for a bit longer, like bleeding out and a broken arm but he pushes through as if it were nothing....until they are out of danger and the pain kicks in. Prowl is none the wiser to his partner's injuries until the mecha suit starts to tweak as Jazz starts to let out pained screams, or small gasps of pain depending how much hurt you want him to be in, and then he pops out the chest compartment to reveal how much actual damage he took.

Ok this was supposed be a small "haha Prowl holding a sleeping Jazz" and it turned in to a full on yap session about very different ideas, hope you dont mind ^^;;

Just really love your au man...

YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ACTUALLY PREDICTED THE THING I WAS PLANNING TO INCLUDE IN MY THREAD :D

Like. Y E AH. Think of it. Fuckinb imaginb. Jazz falling asleep right where he was standing and Prowl is like. Okay I need to find some safe place to put this tiny guy because I don’t want him to get squashed right?? But he doesn’t really have a lot of options so he ends up just sitting and reading something from his datapad with one hand. And holding Jazz in the other. And it works perfectly because Jazz is small enough to fit in Prowls palm.

ALSO. A L S O

I imagine Jazz has magnets in the gloves of his suit. So! Not only Prowl can carry him around but also Jazz can just stick himself to Prowls plates haha

Prowl: Where tf are you

Jazz, crawling on Prowls back: I’m Spider man

Another Cybertonians react to this the same way people do when they see a spider on someone’s shoulder btw~

[piplup335]

1x1x1x1 x reader! (but this time it’s the eggs skin lmao)

*ahem*

HELLO, F E L L A S -

sorry for vanishing, I got burnt out recently D:

took a break for my own mental health and bc idw to go insane ;-; I know this isn’t part of my requests, but I just wanted something to comfort myself :<

also I had some school orientation stuff yesterday and it was TIRINGGGG I fell asleep more than once during that thing so yea I’m kinda writing for this reason too-

I’ll get back to work ASAP :,) for now, enjoy this fic!

╔══════ ⋯⇋ ૮(•͈⌔•͈)ა ⇌⋯ ══════╗

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Killing survivors day in, and day out was a mundane and tiring task. But that's what the Spectre wanted- mutual suffering. It wanted the survivors to experience the endless loop of dying over and over again. It wanted to bore the killers to the point they go insane and take out their anger on the survivors...which in turn completed the vicious cycle. Die, respawn and die again. Kill, get bored and kill again.

When it was your turn for "killing duty", as you liked to put it, it started with you motivating yourself for the round ahead and ended with you walking back into the killer's cabin, groaning in pain. Slash wounds covered your body and bruises were present all over your limbs, the blueish-purple marks an eyesore for everyone in the cabin. As you opened the door and stumbled in, all four killers turned to look at you and glanced at you in horror.

John Doe almost dropped his water. C00lkidd looked at you, unable to say or do anything as his small, innocent eyes glanced up at you with dismay in his eyes. He disliked seeing you in a pained state...he disliked seeing any of the killers in a pained state from playing around with the survivors, after all. Jason looked up at you from the couch, unable to bring himself to get back to reading upon seeing how roughed up you were. 1x1x1x1 was the only one who didn't seem too concerned. That was probably because they didn't want to burn themself, however, since they were busy cooking something on the stove. You had no idea what it was, but it smelled divine.

C00lkidd ran up to you and hugged you tightly. Despite being much younger than you, he was almost up to your height.

"(Y/N)!!! I missed you! Are you okay? What did the survivors do to you??"

His eyes welled up with tears as he looked at you. The sight of your injured form almost made him cry. He didn't like seeing you injured.

You groaned as you recalled what happened in the match. You lost horribly.

-

The survivors planned out a deadly combination beforehand and used you as their test subject. They sent Two Time to search for you and once they found you, they made a run for it...towards some other part of the map where Builderman set up a sentry. The moment you got in range, the sentry started firing at you, the pain of the bullet barrage slowing you down. As you approached the sentry to take it down, Shedletsky ran out from behind a wall and hit you with a nasty slash to the back. The pain burnt and you stumbled forward, landing on your knees on the dirt beneath you. You had to take a moment to breathe through the burning pain. You didn't have John Doe's pain tolerance...that man could be hit with knives or guns and would give himself a two-second pep talk before pushing through the pain and getting back to work.

The moment you got back up, you tried yet again to destroy the sentry. You raised your blade, swinging it down at the damned metal thing that was still firing rounds at you.

Instead of meeting steel, your sword struck the firm surface of Kevlar. Guest 1337 had parried your attack.

With another crushing parry to the face, you were back on the floor, clutching your cheek in pain. The damned sentry stared down your injured form, still firing bullet after bullet at you.

When you finally got back up, your rage-filled swing sent the sentry crumbling to the floor in a burning heap. Two Time stood some distance away from you, as if taunting you to attack them.

Without a second thought, you rushed towards them, ready to deliver a brutal strike that would be guaranteed to send them scuttling away from you, their spiny wings sprouting out of their back as a signal that they had entered their second life.

As you ran towards Two Time, your rage-filled state was unable to detect the tripwire that lay before you...sending you crumbling to the ground. You faceplanted into the floor, and a soft beeping could be heard to your left.

You turned your head, curious as to what the source of the noise was.

A square frame with a crystal encased in it phased back into existence, the tripmine glowing brighter and brighter as the crystal emitted a loud humming noise. It exploded with a flash, and for a brief moment, all you could see was the hot pink of the tripmine covering everything in sight. You tried to stumble towards Two Time, but your vision was still blurry from the sheer intensity of the flash. Shedletsky wasn't gonna let that moment slide and he sliced at you with his sword, followed up by Guest 1337 charging at you and bashing you into a wall...

-

You were exhausted, tired and drained from the crappy day you had just gone through. As you collapsed on the couch, C00lkidd ran over to you, his small hands holding yours as he looked at you with concern in his bright eyes. "Aunt/Uncle (Y/N)!! Are you okay? What happened to you today? Did the others play dirty during tag again?"

You nodded, a soft sigh escaping your mouth. You made an agreement with the others to tell C00lkidd that everything was a game of tag so that he wouldn't be too traumatised at his age.

As C00lkidd rambled on about how future games would be okay while lightly hugging your arm, your attention was diverted to the heavenly smell coming from the kitchen.

Something was cooking, and it smelt good.

Your eyes locked onto 1x1x1x1. They wore a chef's apron and a matching hat along with their usual domino crown. They even put on a chef's uniform for funsies.

And if you had to be honest with yourself, they looked kinda cute in it. 1x1x1x1, Shedletsky's manifestation of malice and hatred, wearing something normal for once.

He once told you that he got his cooking knowledge from Shedletsky. 1x1x1x1 and Shedletsky were both one and the same back in the past, where 1x1x1x1 was simply a seed being nurtured by Shedletsky's negativity. They saw everything through Shedletsky's eyes and heard everything through Shedletsky's ears...including all the cooking lessons and courses he took. They'd seen Shedletsky cook and learnt everything from him. So when 1x1x1x1 finally parted ways with Shedletsky, they took the shared knowledge with them, even after being forsaken.

Regardless, 1x1x1x1, just like their creator, could cook like a professional chef. Fifteen minutes later, all the killers sat at the table, a fresh plate of carbonara in front of them. 1x1x1x1 stood at the head of the table, their hands behind his back as he glanced over everyone with his crimson eyes.

"Dinner is served. Before you is a plate of carbonara. The pasta was freshly made by yours truly, topped with locally sourced bacon and authentic parmesan."

A grin made its way onto your face as you listened to their explanation. Not because you were impressed at the quality of the ingredients, but because you were trying so hard not to laugh at their explanation. You knew that in reality, they were making the most of the supplies the Spectre provided for its inhabitants.

The few of you could make requests to the Spectre and it would grant them, provided that the request was within reason. Everyone only found out about it when C00lkidd wished for a giant lollipop and it appeared at the cabin's doorstep, neatly wrapped in cling foil. Now he regularly requests lollipops from the Spectre, sometimes for his own consumption, sometimes to cheer the other killers up and sometimes so he can use them to play "tag" with the survivors.

You picked up your fork and dug in. The carbonara tasted divine. The noodles were just the right texture, and the bacon really hit the spot. As you scarfed down the meal, John Doe and C00lkidd shared a look.

"Uncle Doe, (Y/N) really is hungry..."

"Yeah. Can tell."

Once you were done, you sat back, satisfied with the hearty meal. After tossing the plates into the dishwasher, you retreated into your room for a nice, warm shower.

You zoned out from the comfortable feeling of the water cascading down your back and stayed inside for a bit too long. When you finally got out of the shower, now in something more comfortable, you saw 1x1x1x1 sitting on the side of your bed, a small bowl in hand. Instead of their chef's uniform, they wore a baggy shirt and a cosy pair of sweatpants.

"...hey. (Y/N). I made you some crème brûlée. Thought you had a rough day today, so I want to cheer you up."

Your eyes widened in awe. During the time you spent in the shower, they managed to make your favourite dessert for you. 1x1x1x1 passed you a small spoon, and you gently tapped at the caramelised sugar on the surface. You cracked the layer, scooping up some of the custard and sugar, and putting the spoon in your mouth.

It tasted sublime...just like how you used to remember it before you got thrown into this forsaken world. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you wrapped your arms around 1x1x1x1 in a tight hug.

"...it's perfect...thank you."

The chef froze up before a smile formed on his face, his hand reaching up to rub your back as you buried your face into his shoulder. After a long and tiring day, you needed a break...and 1x1x1x1 could see that.

"Relax, just relax, my dear...it's over. It's okay...I'm here now. Those pesky survivors are nothing more than annoying pests. I'll deal with them next time, honey."

You knew he was mainly talking about Shedletsky, but you could care less.

For now, all you needed was your lover's comfort.

╔══════ ⋯⇋ ૮(•͈⌔•͈)ა ⇌⋯ ══════╗

╚══════⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ ══════╝

and that’s it for now, fellas! hope you enjoyed it :D

as a little side note, if you enjoyed the fic or have any feedback, do let me know! I thrive off people saying they enjoyed my fics + I know I’m at least doing something right :,) hope you all don’t feel that I’m too selfish or smth-

oh shoot I’m rambling ANYWAYYYY-

take care, and I’ll see you all soon!

also if you liked it please drop a follow- *dies*

[eccentricallygothic]

Pairing: Dark Daddy!Rafe Cameron | Naive Little!Reader. 

Warning(s): Dubcon, cold shower, waterboarding, possessive!Rafe, Dark!Rafe, toxic relationship, dumbification, dacryphilia, manhandling, fear kink, dark ddlg, allusion to spanking, he's mean okay? Browse at your own discretion. 

Rafe does not like his little girl smelling like anyone or anything other than him.

But she's too stupid to understand it, even though he has explained it to her many, many times with all the patience he could muster. 

So now? 

He will teach her. 

"Daddy, please–"

"Shut up" a cigarette dangled from Rafe's lips as he pushed the younger in the bathroom by her hair, the force he used causing her head to loll forwards.

"B–" 

He pulled her head back roughly to level her ear with his mouth. "Not one word, little girl" she had been too engrossed with pleading her case to notice where he had brought her. But now that he pushed her inside the shower, the girl looked around her in confusion as her body scrambled about due to the raw strength it was being subjected to. 

She resisted the urge to voice her distress, knowing how easily irritable her boyfriend became when he was unhappy. 

But this, this was something new. 

Y/n had no idea what was brewing in his head but with the rather ample knowledge of how creative and cruel Rafe got during the times when he felt like she needed adjustment or maintenance, she could not help but feel scared. 

Even though her boyfriend always assured her that he was the only person who she wasn't to fear because all he wanted to do was to protect her since she was too little and dumb to do it on her own, it did not feel that way when he got angry. 

Like, right now. 

Rafe took a drag of his cigarette before exhaling the smoke in her face after turning her around with the grip he had on her head. "Smell yourself" Y/n blinked up at him in confusion at first but hurriedly grabbed her shirt when he raised a dangerous eyebrow at her. "And tell me, what do you smell like?" 

Tears glistened in her eyes at his tone and she whimpered, ducking her head a little and moving the shirt up the rest of the way until it touched her nose. Her hands trembled as she took a sniff. 

"Well?"

These kinds of situations were tricky. 

She never knew what he wanted to hear. 

And wrong answers only damned her further.

The girl opened and closed her mouth a couple times, unsure. Rafe shut his eyes and took a deep breath, the action causing her to panic as she raked her mind for an answer, aware that he did that whenever he was struggling to remain composed. 

And he only bothered with that for her. 

"Sweetheart" he cradled her face closer with his other hand, the nicotine stick between his fingers dangerously close to her cheek. "My question isn't gonna answer itself…" The sudden tenderness in his words as he tried to remain as calm as he could manage caused her to sob in both guilt and fear, shaking a little as she spoke. 

This was why Y/n was one of those girls who preferred not to piss their Daddies off. 

Rafe was too scary when he got like that. 

"... D- Dunno… D- Daddy…" His features scrunched in annoyance and he craned his neck back to take a long drag of his cigarette, causing her bottom lip to wobble.

It was only after he had exhaled did he chuckle slowly, nodding to himself. "Of course, how could I forget?" Looking back down at her, he wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb, nails scratching her scalp in a comforting manner where he held her hair. "You're too stupid to know anything, aren't you, baby?" 

The girl went to agree just for the sake of pleasing him but before she could respond, he was hauling her under the shower head and hitting the handle at the coldest setting. 

"So let me just teach my little girl this time around." 

Y/n screeched as heavy drops of ice cold water splashed against the top of her head and then the rest of her body like millions of tiny shards of ice, trickling down the rest of her alarmed skin in a way that stiffened every muscle in her body. 

Her spine tightened inwards.

"DADDY!" Half of her cry drowned under the unrelenting burst of the shower head, her hands weakly trying to tap and push at his hard arms that did not budge. 

Their strengths were incomparable. 

The sizes of their bodies did not and would not matter regardless of how big or small she was.  

Rafe was too strong, especially when his mind numbing rage was pumping through his veins. 

Like right now. 

"I know, baby, I know" he was unfazed by her gasping and thrashing around for air and comfort as he sucked at his cigarette, his buzzed head glittering with the droplets that had sprayed on him. "You wanna thank Daddy for making the effort to set you straight, I know." 

Y/n's lungs burnt for oxygen as she choked on the icy water, blindly tapping about with widened eyes that stung under the chilling water. Her nostrils ached whenever she tried to breathe, since the unforgiving water seeped in quicker than the air she so desperately needed.  

A loud, strangled gasp escaped her when Rafe jerked her out by the hold he had placed on her neck, bringing her face in close proximity to his so she could hear his menacing whisper. 

"Since you are too stupid to remember that I don't like it when you smell like anything other than me everytime," to make matters worse, you smelt like your male bestfriend's -whom Rafe could not stand to save his own life- body spray. "Maybe if I show you what will happen the next time I smell asshole on you, you will actually try to use that tiny brain before getting close to anyone other than your Daddy." 

The male remained unbothered when she coughed out water in his face to try and clear her system so she could speak, the drops causing his cigarette to hiss. "S- Sorry– Daddy- Sorry–" 

Rafe snorted. "Oh, yes. Sorry you will be," her eyes widened and she screamed only to have it get muffled again when he pushed her back under the unforgiving stream, "by the time I get done with you." It was not that he didn't trust his baby or doubted her loyalty, it was everyone else. 

The fucked up world that was too dangerous for his precious little special girl. 

Who seemed to brush his concerns and worries off like they were nothing. 

Silly little thing. 

He was not one to be taken lightly. 

And she would learn that for good by the time the night was through. 

"Hmm…" Y/n was shivering and wheezing when he pulled her away from the vicious downpour again. "Let's see–"

"Daddy, please! I am sorry! Swear I am!" He only cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at her pleading sob. 

"I told you to shut up" Y/n's heart hammered against her ribcage and breathing nearly ceased when he pulled her even closer, squeezing her throat for emphasis. "Didn't I?" 

"Sorr–" she was too panicked and cold to properly process anything.  

Rafe clicked his tongue in disapproval as he shook his head, snorting before sucking on his cigarette again. "Oh, bunny" using his free hand to push the drenched strands away from her face, he sighed. "Your little mind has forgotten all its manners, hasn't it?" And she was shoved under the water again. 

"Constant back talk as if it's not already bad enough that you still don't smell like my good little girl" her nails were turning white from how they dug into the skin of his hand that forced her still. 

Rafe kept her in for the longest duration this time around, only pulling her out when her body nearly went limp.

Though she was dunked back in the moment he saw light return to her eyes. 

The male kept at it for a good few minutes, constantly stripping her of all dignity and freewill before allowing her a shred of solace only to snatch it away again the moment hope would try to rekindle in the flushed face that he adored so much. 

As much as Rafe loved Y/n, he liked her best when she was in her place. 

Which was under him and at his whim. 

"Hm" he took a sniff of her shaking and panting tired form when he thrusted her body towards himself this time. "This will do" nodding to himself in approval he shut the shower off. 

She was ordered to strip from her drenched clothes. The girl obeyed, the only task on her mind to make her Daddy happy again by pleasing him.

Because he was right.

He looked out for her and protected her all the time, the least she could was to follow her rules and be good for him.

Daddy was always right. 

"You're lucky I care for you, baby" her uncontrollable tears were warm against her cheeks in contrast to everything else. "So I will teach your pea brain the same old thing again" discarding the finished cigarette, he reached for his belt before undoing the buckle. 

The girl just stared at the floor quietly; trembling and meek.

Though she could not maintain the silence for very long and was forced to break it when her chest rumbled at the sight of his belt snaking out of the hoops of his jeans. Soft sobs fell from her lips as she hugged her arms. 

Oh, no.

"Go ahead now~" Rafe nodded towards the door as he helped himself to a new cigarette. "In the bed, face down and ass up."

[writtenbymoonflower]

hi!!! could i pls request some casual dominance polymarauders 🙈

Thanks for requesting, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders, kinda modern!au

cw: kinda d/s dynamics, boys order reader around a bit. if it's not your cup of tea feel free to skip!

810 words

You were attacked with affection the minute you had stepped foot in the house, but you weren’t complaining. It was like James had appeared from thin air to help you shuck your coat off and hang it up for you. 

“Christ, babe. It didn’t know how freezing it was out there. You’ve got like, bits of ice on you.” He fussed, scrutinizing your shaking body and wind-pinched face. 

“It wasn’t that bad, the walk was pretty.” You thought that would be reassuring, but James just looked more aghast. 

“You walked the whole way here?”

“I mean, yeah. I didn’t have money for the bus.” You admitted shamefully. It seemed like Sirius had appeared in the room to give you a (loving) talking to as well. 

“Then in that case, you call one of us, yeah?” He grabbed your face gently, turning you away from James to look at him. He had his whole intimidation thing going on that made you want to melt into the floor. “You don’t get to put yourself in danger walking in this.” He gave your chin an affectionate squeeze before dropping his hand from your face, you let your gaze fall to the floor.

“I will,” You muttered, barely intelligible. This time it was James who tilted your face up. 

“Speak up baby, and look Pads in the eye when you talk to him.” He was gentle but still assertive. You quickly corrected. 

“I will call you next time.” Still mousy, but at a discernible volume, and now you could see when Sirius’ usual grin overtook his concerned features. He pulled you into him, giving you a tight squeeze. 

“You’re okay, babydoll. You’re not in trouble.” He kissed your neck, making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Who’s not in trouble?” You heard Remus’ even tone from the kitchen. You tugged the two men next to you over to where Remus was. He was sitting at the counter, doing some work on his laptop.

“Well it seems like Y/N was determined to give us the fright of our life this afternoon.” James joked (rather dramatically in your opinion), but it’s all good now. 

“They will be requiring some hot chocolate, though.” Sirius pinched at your nose, making an awful cooing sound. “Baby, your face is still all cold.” 

Remus stood up to rummage through the box of hot drink mixes. “Pads love, could you run upstairs and grab the sweater off the end of the bed?” his voice turned more serious as he looked at you. “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re still cold, that shirt likely isn’t doing much to keep you warm.” 

“Actually,” You spoke up, ignoring his comment. “Could I have some coffee instead?” James scoffed and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“It’s half past five, baby dove. You’ll be up all night if you have caffeine right now.” Remus clearly wasn’t in the mood to be argued with, but you pressed in.

“I’ll be fine! Besides, my head hurts and I need to get some work done.” 

“Yeah, well, get that idea out of your head.” James shook your shoulders affectionately. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, you need a rest.” 

“Who needs a rest?” Sirius trotted over to you, manhandling you to get Remus’ sweater over your head. 

“Y/N,” James tattled. “They think they’re getting coffee at this hour.” He laughed like you were being obviously ridiculous. “They also have a headache and didn’t tell us.” You must’ve looked absolutely appalled and quickly floundered to control the damages. 

“I didn’t think it was important! It’s not bad anyway.” 

“Well, let’s try to keep it from getting bad.” Remus handed you a steaming cup of hot cocoa, along with a packet of biscuits. “Here, eat these so you can take some pain pills.” He glanced over to James, making the bespectacled boy rummage through the medicine box while Sirius set on getting a glass of water for you. 

“I don’t need any medicine, it will go away on its own.” You pleaded, covering your mouth full of biscoff and feeling flustered from all the attention. Sirius clearly disagreed, because the comment earned you a hard pinch on your bum. 

“Do what Moons said” He punctuated the order with a kiss to your forehead, letting you know he wasn’t really upset with you. Sirius may play stern, but he was really just silly and enjoyed ordering you around a bit, knowing that it made you heated and blushy. 

You set down your hot drink and half-eaten snack to take the pills and water, swallowing your pills and finishing the whole glass before you handed it back. 

“There you go,” James cooed, pulling you into his side. “That’s a good girl” 

You groaned, earning a dark chuckle from Remus.

"Poor baby," He teased, clearly not feeling very sorry for you.

It was going to be a trying night.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Breaking Dean Out of Jail

Pairing: Dean x reader

_____________

Thankfully Dean was a pretty good actor when he needed to be. It was part of his natural charm, talking to anyone and everyone, playing whatever part he needed to survive. Or to get some. But today all he had to do was shut up and looked pissed.

It wasn’t all that hard since you were certain he was mad with you. Dean had gotten caught on a B&E, was in custody and currently in lockup at the local station.

Great thing you had a fake FBI badge and a knack for creating fake documents.

“He’s wanted for a whole slew of offenses, murder at the top of the list,” you said, Dean scowling as he sat on the bench in his cell, hands cuffed behind his back. The chief had already asked if you could handle him by yourself to which you gave him a look that said you were more dangerous than you seemed.

Once you were out and Dean was being led down the hall, he did his part of struggling a little, bumping his shoulder into you so you hit the wall. 

“Do you want assaulting an officer on your record too?” you asked, shoving him back in place. Sam texted you as you popped Dean in your backseat.

Demon taken care of. Got D? -S

Yeah. He’d rather it be you risking your neck to show your face in here though. -Y/N

Me too. But you always were the best fake cop of all of us. -S

“Let us know if you change your mind about the backup,” said the officer as you climbed in the front seat. You thanked him and drove off, in a stolen car no less, Dean staying quiet until you were on the main road.

“Sam should have-”

“Behave or I won’t give you the key to those cuffs,” you said. Seconds later you heard Dean laughing as he asked you to pull over. You did as asked and soon he was in the passenger seat, hands free. “How did you...all your lock picks and stuff are in that baggie.”

“Someone might have had a bobby pin in their hair that I stole when I bumped into her,” said Dean. “I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Only my ego,” you said, reaching your head up to the back of your head to find the pin missing. You started driving again and you felt Dean’s hands in your hair put it back in place.

“So officer, what should I do to make it up to you for busting me out?” he asked, your lips curling up in a smile. “I’ve got plenty of ideas.”

“Oh, really?” you asked. “I’m sure you do.”

“It might take me a while to show my gratitude, all night in fact,” said Dean, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Next time it’s Sam though.”

“You’re going to show Sam gratitude all night long?” you teased, Dean holding up the handcuffs.

“Behave,” he said, a dark smile on his face.

“Make me,” you said, listening to Dean play with the metal, snapping it back and forth.

“Oh, I most certainly will. Count on it.”

___________