#he's attractive! you want me to lie and say he's not???

[ashwhowrites]

Hi beautiful! I’m so happy you are back! You are the best writer ever!!💜

I was wondering if I could request a prisoner Eddie Munson x nurse shy reader. ( in prison for whatever reason you want) He gets beat up in prison and he goes to the nurse and finds her so beautiful and they flirt and feelings start coming up. He try’s to see her anytime he can, and maybe they have a kiss that leads to more like smut??

I love your writing! Sorry if this is bad!

I hope this is what you wanted (it leads to smut but not much of a smut scene )and that you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting!❤️ And it's not a bad request at all!! Prisoner Eddie is fun. Thank you for the love. Prisoner Eddie deserves the criminal love photo

Heal me, nurse

"BREAK IT UP!" An officer screamed as a fight broke out in the small cafeteria. Eddie ignored the officer as he continued to land punches across the other prisoner's face. The officers raced over to the brawl but didn't arrive fast enough to protect Eddie from the bash against the back of his head.

Eddie groaned as he fell over, his head pounding as three guys began to beat his body black and blue. He felt relieved when several officers pulled all the guys off of him. Eddie wiped his nose and realized he was bleeding. He could feel his eyes, ribs, and the back of his head throbbing. He was barely aware of what was going on as he was dragged to a room.

"All yours," the officer spat as he let Eddie's body drop on a chair next to the door.

"Dick," Eddie muttered to himself as the officer walked off. He held his body in pain as he looked around to see where he had dropped off.

"Let me help you to the bed," a soft voice spoke. Eddie blinked through his throbbing eyes as he took in the other person in the room. He groaned as the stranger helped him stand, he took the time to take her in.

She was insanely attractive, and he wasn't saying that because he'd been stuck in cells with random men and hadn't seen a female in ages.

"Where am I?"

"The nurses' office," she smiled, helping him sit on the tiny bed.

Eddie hummed, he didn't even know prison cared to have a nurse. "And you are my nurse?" He swore he's only seen attractive nurses in porn, and he couldn't lie he was imagining how she would look in a tiny nurse outfit.

"Well, I'm everyone's nurse. Now, what happened?" she asked. She sat on a small stool in front of him, her eyes waiting.

"Fuckers jumped me, and now my head, ribs, nose, and eyes are throbbing," he shrugged. Eddie was rough, and he could handle taking care of himself. He had done it a thousand times before. But the idea of this pretty girl having to check him for wounds? Yeah, he liked that.

She stood up and grabbed a small light, flashing it in his eyes as she directed him to follow it. She tried to focus on her job and not that this prisoner was insanely hot. He had captivating eyes, so dark and warm. She felt a blush creep up her neck as he stared right back into her eyes.

She stepped back as she felt the room grow hotter. She walked over to the small sink and wet a cloth. She walked it over to him and softly wiped away the dry blood.

"I'm sorry this happened to you and that the officers treat you like shit," she whispered, gently cleaning his nose.

"Nothing I can't handle, I'm a big boy," he shrugged, chuckling.

She tried not to shiver at his deep chuckle. She silently yelled at herself as her mind went elsewhere with his big boy comment. She dabbed his nose, his eyes never leaving her face. She felt nervous under his stare, trying to avoid eye contact, but she kept feeling this pull to look back.

Once she cleaned off his nose, she tossed the towel to the side.

"Could you..uh..unbutton.. your-" she shyly stuttered, her hands waving to his orange jumpsuit. She hated how nervous she felt around this stranger.

"Unbutton what, gorgeous?" he teased. He enjoyed how shy she was, and it was clear he was making her nervous. "This?" he asked, two fingers slowly unbuttoning the first few buttons.

She blushed deeply as his skin became exposed. She could see some ink on his pale skin. She moved without thinking, stepping closer as she took in the spider and demon. She held her breath as his fingers teased more buttons, but then his fingers landed under her chin.

She squeaked in surprise at the touch. Her skin was raised with goosebumps as she tried to sneak a deep breath.

"I don't think I heard an answer, darling," Eddie whispered.

"Yes," she coughed, "unbutton the top so I can see your ribs, please."

Eddie chuckled at her shyness, teasingly unbuttoning the top half of his suit. Y/N tried to make it seem as if she wasn't interested in what else was under his clothes.

She reached forward to softly touch the ribs that were becoming a darker color compared to his white skin. For the first time since she met him, she was focused on her job. Eddie couldn't help but twitch as her fingers trailed across his ribs and stomach.

"I think it'll just bruise," she said gently, tracing the small marks. She stepped back, "You can button up. I'll give you some ice to take with you."

~

Eddie was sent on his way, holding an ice pack against his ribs. He craved a hot shower, but he wasn't sure if he could even have one. He took the ice to his cell and prepared to sleep the pain away.

But only two hours later, his body was screaming, and the ice was melted. Eddie didn't know the time, unsure if it was early or late. Eddie decided to get more ice to help him get more hours of sleep. And the hope he'd get to see her again.

He turned the corner and noticed a small light coming from the office. He walked in and was pleased to see her sitting at the desk. He gave the door a soft knock to alert his arrival.

"Thought I should return this."

Y/N was startled by the voice, jumping out of her skin as she turned to see him.

"Oh! Thank you. Usually, the officers bring those back in the morning...are you even allowed to be out right now?" She asked, looking over his shoulder.

"And give those dicks a reason to see you? Nah. And look where I am, baby. Does it look like I follow the rules?"

She had to give him that. She stood up and took the melted ice bag from his hands and threw it back in the freezer. Eddie shamelessly checked her out as she bent over.

"What's your name?" He asked

"Y/N, and yours?" She asked as she turned around. He was much closer than before. His body was almost right up against hers.

"Edward Munson, but you can call me Eddie," he said, a charming smile on his lips.

~~~

It only took one day for both of them to feel something. Eddie constantly found ways to visit her. Sometimes he picked fights, letting them beat him as badly as they could so he could limp his way to her. Other times he pretended to feel sick or that he was going mentally insane.

She always greeted him with the same smile and gentle touch. He was happy the other prisoners always went for his ribs and chest because he loved watching her get nervous when his upper body was exposed.

He could easily tell she was attracted to him and he felt the same for her. Life in prison was just as hell as people thought, but she added some life to the dull building. She gave Eddie a reason to smile.

Y/N was a little worried about how much Eddie found himself in her office. Some days he didn't even heal from his last fight, bruises adding on to other bruises. She had to admit that he pulled off a busted lip and bruised eye very well. Selfishly she enjoyed his trips to her office. She liked his company, and the more he came, the longer he stayed. Something was forming between them, and it definitely wasn't allowed.

~~~

Eddie walked down the hall, clenching his stomach as he faked a horrible stomach pain. The officer dropped him off and left without a word. The door was closed and Eddie was a little confused. He turned the knob and welcomed himself in.

His girl was there, perfect as always. But she wasn't alone. She stood in front of an officer using a stethoscope on his bare chest.

"Breath in for me,"

Eddie watched as the officer seemed to enjoy the moment too much.

"Kinda hard when you take my breath away," the officer chuckled. Eddie couldn't help but scoff at the flirty comment, making his presence known.

"Oh, Eddie, hi!" She smiled, joy on her face as she turned to him. "Just one second!"

She turned back to the officer, eager to get him to leave. "Well we are all set. Everything seems fine."

"You'll think about tonight right?" The officer asked

Eddie slit his eyes, sending a glare to the man.

"Uh.." she looked towards Eddie, then back, "Yeah, I'll think about it."

Once the officer left, Eddie strolled into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Oh that's supposed to stay open," she said, her voice growing quiet as she heard it lock.

"Oh? Then why was it closed with him?" She shivered at the venom in his voice. Her stomach filled with excitement as a jealous look covered his face.

"He asked," she gulped, his heavy steps reaching her feet as she stood still.

"Yeah, what else did he ask for?" Eddie questioned, beginning to unbutton his orange jumpsuit. "Something about tonight."

Y/N ignored the burn between her thighs as he continued to unbutton his suit past his stomach. She cast her eyes down for a quick glance then back up to his face. Her eyes yearned to look back to his happy trail and see where it disappeared.

"He asked me about having dinner together,"

Eddie moved fast, softly gripping her hair as he yanked her head up. She whined at the burn, her knees getting weak. He slowly leaned in, teasing his lips over hers. She felt the room grow warmer as his breath hit her lips, her eyes begging him to close the gap.

"Are you wanting to?" He whispered

"No," she said instantly, "please Eddie," she begged

"Please what?" He asked, "you want me to kiss you?"

She licked her lips as she tried to nod her head through his grip.

"My pleasure," he said against her lips before he kissed her. She moaned as his lips worked against hers, firm and passionate. His hands gripped her hips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue softly moving into her mouth.

She wasn't sure if she was allowed to touch him, her hands burning to feel his skin as his tongue danced with hers. She nervously placed her hands on his shoulders as she tried to fight back in the kiss. It was no use, though; he had all the power.

He pulled back, smirking as she followed his lips. "Get on that bed, baby girl." He whispered, stepping back as he stripped out of his suit. She scrambled to the tiny bed.

She held her breath as he stood in his boxers, his hard-on caught her attention as she shamelessly stared. She felt herself drool when his hand landed over himself and softly rubbed himself. The sound that left his body made Y/N clench her thighs.

"I'm going to show you who's really in charge around here."

She felt locked in a trance as he walked over to her. His hands were on her in seconds, easily taking all the material off of her skin. She felt nervous about the idea of being naked in front of him but the way he looked at her made her feel like she had nothing to be shy about.

His hot mouth was on her skin as his hands trailed down her stomach. She shivered as she felt his hand growing closer to the wetness between her thighs.

Eddie sucked on her neck as his fingers slid in between her soaked folds. She moaned out as his fingers slid inside her, stretching her open.

"Think you can handle my cock, pretty girl?" He teased, his breath hot against her skin as she began to rock against his fingers. She whined in response, her thighs turning into jelly.

"Yes, please," she begged, throwing her head back his fingers sped up.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[snoopychris]

TA!matt discovering camgirl!reader online

warnings: masturbation, kinda sub!matt, matt's kind of an ass, cammy used in place of y/n

11:03am

“ok… professor thomas isn’t here today. you guys are stuck with me. i’m not legally… allowed to teach so just. do whatever. you can leave if you want.” matt speaks, his voice booming clearly throughout the room. the tests you had taken the week before were sitting face down in front of each seat. you’re almost scared to look at your grade. your friend, melissa, takes her seat next to you, flipping her page over instantly.

“78. how’d you do cammy?” she asks, glancing at the marks on her paper before you flip yours over. 65. “what the hell?” you whisper, looking around the room. nobody else seems to be freaking out over their scores. you make your way to matt’s temporary desk, setting your paper down. “a 65?” you mumble, glancing between matt and the paper. he sets his phone down on the desk, looking up at you. “well, yeah. your determinants were wrong and you did the wrong method. i was being generous with the grade.” 

you shake your head in disbelief, glancing over matt’s features. “i didn’t… i was so confident in… is there anything you can do for me?” you whisper, biting your lip so hard that it begins to bleed. matt shakes his head, flipping through his textbook. “do the problems on page 117. give them to me on friday and ill use some of those as proof that you know what you’re doing. daddy’s money can’t pay its way through college” you scoffed at his words. sure, you had a lot of materialistic things, always having the best backpack, the best notebook, dressed in the best clothes, but was always from your own pocket. “that’s not fair.” “oh no... you actually have to work for something for once. crazy isn’t it?” matt replies, looking back down at the papers he was grading. 

it feels like the walk of shame on your way back to your seat. when you sit down, melissa elbows your ribs, making you chuckle. “i mean shit, cammy, i’d give anything for him to talk to me like that. at least he’s hot though, right cammy?” “i’d never ever think that man was attractive. i would never. ever. do anything with him. matter of fact. hit me if i ever do.” 

11:03 pm.

matt had been going through the worst dry spell of his life. chris and nick had been making fun of him for it nonstop. he just felt desperate. in the back of his mind, he knew what he was doing was pathetic and probably frowned upon by some people. a wednesday night isn’t typically spent looking through a camgirl website hoping that one of them is cheap enough for him to afford them walking him through an orgasm. he was twenty two years old for gods sake. he shouldn’t be doing… whatever this was. the girls on his screen were all beautiful. they all had a confidence he wishes he could have. he didn’t judge the girls on the other side. he’s been desperate for money too. it’d be a lie to say that he hadn’t considered pornography. the scrolling continued for a while, only coming to a halt when he saw a free livestream.

on the other side of the city, you were growing bored. there can’t have possibly been that many other cam girls available at this time on a wednesday night. you had been live for about an hour, talking to nobody other than yourself. your face was hidden from the camera, only your lips and lower body visible. still, with no audience, you tried your best to make it seem like you were doing anything. a bullet vibrator sat near your clit, attached to your fingers by a holster. it was off, and you weren’t doing anything other than moving it in circles. maybe this whole free thing hadn’t been the best ideas. your face brightens slightly when a user finally joins. mateo81. “hello mateo… y’got yourself a private show tonight. everybody’s too busy for me.” you pout, your voice covered by a voice changer. they were common on this app. 

matt thinks it’s almost too corny. then again… you look good. just his type. and free. he would’ve paid if he had too. was it too good to be true? he should find out right? matt puts the website on full screen, typing a message out in the chat. completely free? NSA?

“completely free mateo… no strings attached.” you smile, tapping your bullet vibrator on the camera. “unless you wanna tip. i do a free stream every once in a while… you got lucky today and got it allllll for yourself. you’re gonna be such a good boy for me aren’t you?” you whisper, your voice like silk. usually matt’s not into this stuff. he’s not submissive. there’s something about you that’s making him do it all. he types another message, swallowing roughly. he doesn’t even remember getting as hard as he is right now. please. so hard rn. he pushes his boxers down, staring intently at the screen. every word you say is like a potion, drawing him further under your spell. he hopes there’s no antidote. 

you chuckle as you turn your vibrator on, holding it on your clothed clit. you bite your lip, holding back a small moan as you await another message. how much for you to take it off? you giggle once more, shrugging your shoulders as you press your tits together with one hand. “just gotta ask nicely baby…” you smile, slipping the small panties—if you could even call them that— off of your figure. 

matt watches with full attention as you do so, fisting his cock faster and faster. he wasn’t trying to cum so fast, but he had gone so long without any form of release that he felt like he had to. besides, it’s not like you’d see him. the precum that was coating his tip is rubbed away gently when matt rubs a thumb over his slit, biting the hem of his t-shirt as he reaches his first orgasm of the night. he doesn’t send a message regarding his cum coated hand, but opts to send one anyway. tits look nice. he hopes he doesn’t sound too pathetic or weird. 

your top is quickly discarded, gently jiggling your breasts on the camera for the person watching over the screen. matt groans at the sight, his sticky hand beginning to move up and down again. you continue to rub the vibrating toy on your clit, letting out small whines and whimpers. you always made it a point to not fake moan like other cam girls. you’d rather be authentic than seem fake and money hungry like some girls on the app were. 

“you’re doing such a good job… wish i could touch you right now. bet you’re dripping aren’t you? you dripping out of your dick over the fact that i’m fuckin myself with this toy for you?” matt could hardly type at this point with how covered in cum his hands were. he didn’t even remember having a second orgasm. or a third. but he knows that he did.  your words were making him feel something so different than anything he’s ever felt before.

with shaky hands, he types a yes, sending it to your screen—wherever you are. you chuckle at the message , pouting your lips for your sole viewer. “such a good boy mateo. so so good… fuck i’m gonna cum… gonna cum for you okay? do it with me yeah? unless you’ve already done it… won’t judge you…” he nods even though you can’t see him, meeting his climax once more. you whine loudly as you release, your body squirming as the feeling takes over. “f-fuck.” you whisper, pressing a small lip gloss kiss to the camera. matt chuckles at the sight, using his discarded shorts to clean himself off. 

his computers pointer moves to the follow button, clicking it as he begins typing a message in the chat. this was fun. do it again sometime? i’ll actually pay haha. he sighs of relief when you nod on camera, giggling quietly. “i can’t wait. i gotta go now. have to pee and all. i’ll see you next time okay, mateo?” you smile, turning your live stream off. matt feels a pang of sadness when he audibly says goodbye and gets no reply.

he glances at his clock, noticing that the minutes are just ticking by. there’s still a pile of math tests on his desk waiting to be graded. he throws his head back and groans, standing up to wash his hands before sitting back down at his work area. the first test he grades is almost a perfect score. 98%. he always tries to avoid names when grading test to avoid any unintentional bias. he chuckles to himself when he reads the name after he’s done grading it. cammy.

you whine as you shut your laptop, walking into the kitchen. you’re still in minimal clothes after putting your top back, but it’s decent enough to be seen by your roommate. he walks into the room, clapping slowly at your performance on the other side of the wall. “you did great, cammy. truly. always put on a show! you get this months rent yet?” he asks, handing you a cloth towel for you to wipe off any sweat with. you chuckle at his words, downing the water bottle in your hand. “free show tonight tucker. y’shoulda seen em! all… one of them! the art of camming is dying and i am going to bring it back. mark my words.” tucker chuckles at your words, grabbing his own water from the fridge. he pops it open, taking a long swig before ruffling your hair. “no judgement here. i support your whore career so long as you support my music career.” you can’t help but smile at his words, knowing he’s being genuine. he supports you in everything that you do. he always has. “yeah whatever. you’re such a good role model.” tucker rolls his eyes as he opens the fridge once more, grabbing some precooked pasta to heat up. 

“did you ever get that math test back? i got an 85. i think that matt guy really likes me or something cause i did so much shit wrong and yet here i am” you shake your head at his question, putting on a tshirt that was thrown over the couch. “no he doesn’t like me much. in fact im probably the last person on his mind 24/7 and when i am on his mind its probably all about how he dislikes me and how bad of a linear algebra student i am.” you shrug, taking a bite of your roommates pasta. “im sure that’s not true.” “oh no. it’s definitely true. there is absolutely no way that I am on his mind right now.” matt got through the stack of papers faster than he had expected. he used your nearly perfect example as an answer key of sorts. he began getting ready for bed, properly this time, knowing that he had an early start to his day with a few morning classes, followed by his nightly internship. he needed to find more time for himself. as he nestles into bed, jellycats at his side, he stares up at the ceiling for a few minutes. his mind keeps drifting back to the camgirl from earlier. cherry. he hopes she’s okay right now. that she’s had a good meal and that she was safe, wherever she was. it was all that was on his mind. the only person on matt’s mind was you. and it had absolutely nothing to do with your mathematical abilities. in fact— he wasn’t even thinking about your test grades anymore. you were absolutely on matt's mind right now, even if neither of you knew it.

tags(reply/message to be added!): @mattsstarlet @oopsiedaisydeer @marrykisskilled @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @freshhhloveee @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @cykss @throatgoat4u @blahbel668 @ivyyyyyysposts @h0e4fictionalme-n @sofieeeeex @littlebookworm803 @allylovescody @ribread03 @cheesecakedolll @chrislova @ikyoudreamofme @jetaimevous @muwapsturniolo @sturnsrecord @13hoax @whore4mattsturniolo @sophsturns @chrissweetheart @cl1tlover3000 @applecidersturniolo @babytrapsosa @backwardshatnick

dividers by rose @bernardsbendystraws !

[insidekatmind]

Hate?~Berlin (Song jung- ho)

Wearning: +18,smut,tension.

Request: yes!

You are Spain, a former elite thief with a talent for impossible locks and a razor-sharp tongue. The Professor recruited you for the heist of the century at the Korean Mint, and from the first moment you knew there was a problem: Berlin.

He, with his contemptuous smile and his ostentatious elegance, made you want to throw the first thing you could reach at him. He, with his mellifluous voice and his superior gaze, seemed to enjoy always finding your raw nerve.

"Look who deigned to show up. Our Spain, always with that fallen queen's stride." Berlin says, provoking you.

"And you always with that cheap aristocratic air, Berlin." You say, snorting.

It was a constant back and forth. He provoked you, you responded in kind. During meetings, during guard duty, even when the rest of the gang was trying to maintain a modicum of professionalism. Yet beneath all that venom, there was something more.

The glances you exchanged were not just defiant. The tension between you was a tight wire ready to snap. One night, during an inspection at the mint, you were alone. He looked at you, his lips curled into that hateful smile.

"You know, Spain… I wonder if hating me turns you on as much as it does me." Berlin whispers.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. But when you passed by him, you barely touched his arm, enough for him to know that the game wasn't over yet.He grabbed your wrist, pulling you close to him.

"You're not as subtle as you think, darling," he grinned.

His grip was firm, but not painful. It was a gesture that said 'I can control you if I want.' In any other circumstance, it would have only made you angrier. But there was something about his proximity, the scent of his cologne and the heat of his body against yours that made your heart race.

“Stop acting like an asshole,” you whisper.

He chuckled, tilting your face up to look at him.

"But I'm so good at being an ass," he smirked.

His grip on your wrist loosened, his forefinger tracing the line of your jaw. His touch was electric, sending a shiver through you despite the tension between you.

"You're so tense, darling. I wonder why that is," he continued, his voice low and smooth.

His eyes roamed over your face, studying every little expression. He knew exactly how he was affecting you, and he was reveling in it.

You look at him from head to toe, he was attractive you couldn't lie and the fact that he was an arrogant asshole made him even more attractive. He noticed the way you were looking at him, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer. His touch was confident, possessive.

"No, not even a little bit." You muttered, looking at him as if you wanted to eat him. His smirk widened at your denial, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Oh, really? Then why are you so close to me?" he inquired, enjoying your denial. His hand moved from your waist to your back, his fingers tracing circles on your spine, his touch making you shiver.

“I hate you so much” You whispered as you moved closer to him. He leaned in, his face mere inches from yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath.

"And I hate you too," he murmured, his words a contradiction to the way his hand was still roaming your back, his touch anything but hateful.

He was playing the game, teasing you with his words while his body betrayed the truth.

You wanted to pull away, to break free from his grip, but you couldn't. Your body was betraying you, reacting to his proximity like it was a drug. His gaze held yours captive, those dark eyes filled with a dangerous mix of arrogance and desire.The tension between you was palatable as you two stood there, mere inches apart. You could feel his heart beating fast against your chest, the rhythm matching your own. He moved even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.

"I wonder what would happen if I kissed you right now," he whispered, teasing you further.

Your breath hitched, your mind racing at the thought. His lips were so close, so inviting. But you couldn't give in to the desire, not yet. You tried to steady your voice, to keep the venom in your words.

"I'd probably knee you in the groin," you replied, half-serious.He laughed, a sound that was both charming and infuriating.

"Oh, I have no doubt your first instinct would be violence," he said, his tone amused. "But then again, I do love a challenge."

His hand moved from your back to your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, tilting your head back just enough to expose your throat.

His lips grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, his touch barely there, yet it sent electric currents through your entire body. A soft gasp escaped your lips, a sound you couldn't hold back. He chuckled, enjoying the effect he had on you.

"Oh, I knew it," he murmured, his breath hot on your skin. "You can pretend to hate me all you want, but your body betrays your true feelings.""I do hate you," you protested weakly, finding it hard to think straight with his lips on your neck.

He nipped at your pulse point, his teeth grazing your skin, just hard enough to make you shiver.

"That's what you say, but your little gasps say something else," he teased, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

His thumb traced your lower lip, his gaze fixed on your face.

"You know, darling, I find your denial so adorable," he said, his voice low and smooth. "But I wonder how far I can push until that wall of yours collapses completely."You look at him longingly as he touches your lip, you were trying so hard not to suck his thumb.

He could see the struggle in your eyes, the way you were fighting against the desire that was clearly etched on your face. He pressed his thumb against your lip, demanding entrance.

"One way or another," he said, his tone lowering to a sinful growl, "I'll break through that stubborn resistance of yours."

You suck his thumb and closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of his finger in your mouth. His breath hitched at the sudden sensation of your mouth on his thumb, his grip on you tightening.

"Oh, darling, what a talented mouth you have," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

He pushed his thumb in deeper, your tongue swirling around it of its own accord. His eyes darkened, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips.He removed his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with his index finger, tracing the line of your lower lip.

"You taste even sweeter than I imagined," he purred, his gaze locked on your mouth.

He suddenly backed you against a nearby wall, trapping you between the cold surface and the heat of his body.

His leg slotted between yours, pinning you in place. His chest was pressed flush against yours, the heat of his body seeping through your clothes. His hand was back in your hair, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes were burning with desire, but there was something else there too. Something almost possessive.He leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours.

"I have to admit, I admire your stubbornness," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "But it's also driving me insane."

He pressed his body even closer to yours, the hardness of his arousal evident through his robber suit . He moved his leg slightly, applying just enough pressure to draw a soft moan from your lips.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he continued, his hand roaming down your sides, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "This constant battle between us, it's maddening. And yet, I can't get enough of it."

He bit your earlobe, his teeth grazing your skin, before his lips moved to your jawline, leaving a trail of light kisses.

“I hate you so much,” you mutter between moans.

"That's not what your body is telling me," he replied, his lips now on your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, nipping gently, his breath hot and heavy against your ear.

"You can deny it all you want, darling, but we both know the truth."

His hand moved underneath your robber's suit unbuttoned, his fingers tracing the edge of your bra.

You look at him longingly and bring your shaking hands to his face and kiss him. He let out a soft groan as your lips met his, the contact sending a surge of desire through his body. For a moment, the tension between you melted away, replaced by a need that was almost primal.

His hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a possessive fervor. He pulled you closer, pinning you against the wall with his body, his tongue seeking entry to your mouth. The kiss was greedy, hungry, both of you desperate for more.

"Finally," he grated as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. "I've wanted to do this since the first time I laid eyes on you."

He pressed his body even closer, his hips grinding against yours, the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against your thigh. He captured your lips again, kissing you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours.

You moaned into the kiss and clung to him, pulling his hair. He let out a guttural growl, his hands roaming your body, claiming every inch he could touch. His teeth nipped at your neck, his tongue soothing the sting. He moved down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of hot kisses on your skin.

"You drive me insane," he repeated, his voice rough. "And I'm going to make sure you can't deny it any longer."

His hand gripped your hip, pressing you even harder against him. You could feel his growing need, his body trembling with desire.

"Look what you do to me," he murmured against your skin, his hand moving down to your thigh, pushing up the fabric of your robber's suit. His thumb traced circles on the sensitive skin, teasing and exploring.

His kisses became more urgent, his teeth nipping harder at your flesh. He was driving you wild, his touch both gentle and possessive. His fingers toyed with the edge of your bra, teasing but never crossing the line.

"I want you," he groaned, his voice low and dark. "I want you so badly it hurts."You try to undress him with your hands shaking with desire.

He chuckled softly, his lips moving to your ear.

"Eager, are we?" he teased.

He took your hands, stilling their trembling, holding them against his chest. His heart was pounding, its rhythm matching the wild beat of your own.

"Patience, darling," he murmured, his voice soft but commanding. "I intend to savor this moment."

He slowly undid the buttons of his robber's suit, his gaze never leaving your face. With every button, more of his chest was revealed, the smooth expanse of muscle and tanned skin making your mouth water. His eyes tracked your reaction, his smirk growing wider as your desire became even more evident."You like what you see, darling?" he asked, his voice now a purred challenge.

He let his suit fall to the ground, leaving him in nothing but boxer briefs that left little to your imagination. His body was like a work of art, sculpted and toned, the muscles of his abdomen rippling with subtle power.

You moaned and brought your hand to his boxer and you touch it His breath hitched as your hand made contact with the thin fabric, a groan escaping his lips. He captured your wrist, pulling your hand away from him with a smirk.

"Not so fast," he teased, his voice low and gravelly. "You forget who's in charge here, darling."His hand moved to your hair, tugging gently. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

"And I plan on taking my time with you," he whispered, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

He guided you to a nearby table, backing you against it. His hands roamed over your body, his touch both gentle and possessive.

"I've been dreaming about this moment," he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down your throat.

His fingers traced the line of your bra once again, this time lingering at the clasp.

"I've been imagining your moans, the way you'll feel when I touch you..."His hand moved to the strap of your bra, slowly sliding it down your shoulder. His lips grazed the exposed skin, his tongue darting out to taste your flesh.

"Every stolen glance, every taunting word, it's all been leading to this."

He flicked his fingers against the fastening of your bra, the sound of the clasp releasing like music to his ears. He withdrew your bra, the fabric sliding over your heated skin, leaving you bare before him.He took a step back, his gaze roving over your body. He looked at you like you were an exquisite piece of art, his eyes drinking in every inch of your body.

"You are even more beautiful than I imagined," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire.

He stepped forward again, trapping you against the table with his body. His hands roamed over your bare chest, fingertips tracing patterns on your skin.

"And I plan on worshipping every inch of this body," he continued, his lips brushing against your collarbone.He moved upwards, his lips blazing a trail of kisses up your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving marks that would surely bloom into bruises come tomorrow. You were writhing beneath him, helpless to resist the onslaught of sensation he was igniting within you.Berlin kissed all over your body until he reached your panties and took them off. "Look at you, so desperate to get fucked by the person you hate" Berlin whispered.

He was right. Despite your words and actions, your body was betraying you. You hated him, but your body couldn't help responding to his touch. You were so desperate for him, so needy, that all your defenses had crumbled, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

"You're... a jerk..." you managed to gasp out, your breath ragged with desire.He chuckled, his hand sliding up the inside of your thigh.

"Maybe I am," he admitted. "But I'm the jerk you can't resist."

He ran his fingertips over your sensitive skin, teasingly close to where you needed him most.

"You can deny it all you want, darling, but your body betrays your true feelings."You bit your lip to suppress a moan, your hips involuntarily lifting towards his touch. This was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so good. His hands were like magic, coaxing pleasure from you with every touch.

He adds two fingers inside you making you moan. He chuckled, a low, sinister sound that sent shivers down your skin.You were helpless beneath him, a slave to the pleasure he was giving you. You didn't know how you'd let it get to this point, how the man you had hated for months could be the one to reduce you to this quivering mess. But you couldn't think straight anymore, your mind clouded with desire and need."So good" you groan.

He smirked, his fingers working you expertly.

"You like that, darling?" he asked, his voice laced with arrogance.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he was enjoying every second of it.You couldn't think, you just groaned in response. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending sparking with pleasure. His touch was both soft and rough, leaving you dizzy and weak."Yes,so bad" you groan.

He increased the pace of his fingers, your gasps and moans the only sounds in the room. He was relentless, his goal to bring you to the brink of climax and keep you there. Your back arched, your fingers gripping the edge of the table."Mmm,Berlin" you moaned arching your body.

He leaned over you, his voice low in your ear.

"That's right, darling," he murmured, "say my name. Let me hear how much you need me."

He increased the pressure of his fingers, driving you closer to the edge.

"Berlin... I need... " you gasp out words, feeling his body close to yours.He chuckled darkly, his body pressed against you.

"You need what, darling?" he whispered, nipping at your earlobe. "Use your words."

His fingers were relentless, leaving you a writhing mess.

"I...I need you" you finally manage to gasp out between moans. There was no denying it anymore, no more pretending. You needed him, and he knew it.

"That's what I want to hear," he purred, his free hand gripping your hip, his lips finding your neck. "Say it again."

"I need you," you repeated, your voice strained and needy. "Please."You couldn't believe the words that were coming out of your mouth, but you couldn't help it. You needed him, and your body was making it painfully obvious.

"Please what?" he asked, his lips moving to your jawline. "You have to be specific, darling."

He added another finger, the stretch making you gasp. He had you completely at his mercy, and he loved it.

"Please Berlin, I need you" you say begging for him, you feel like you are going to explodeBerlin giggles and moves his fingers more making you come. "Beava girl" he whispered and takes your fingers off sucking them and giggles. "you taste so good" You moaned and he slapped your pussy making you squirm and Berlin giggles taking off his boxers. You watched and he gets on top of you.

He looks into your eyes.

"Say you hate me" he murmurs with a smirk.

You try to say you hate him between moans, but the words won't come out, they are stuck in your throat.He chuckles darkly, knowing he has you completely at his mercy.

"That's what I thought," he purrs, his hand trailing down your body. "You can pretend to hate me all you want, but your body betrays the truth."

You look at him and finally you say the words.

“I.. I don’t.. I don’t hate you” you say with your shaky voiceHe smiles at your words, his gaze satisfied.

"Finally, some honesty," he says, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "I knew you couldn't resist me for long."

He grabs your thighs and enters you in one fell swoop, making you moan. He groans as he enters you, his body shaking with desire.

"That's it, darling," he murmured, his voice rough. "You feel so good" you groan.

You scratched Berlin's back as you felt his cock slide in and out of you. "Berlin" you moaned. He groaned in response, his body shuddering as you dug your fingers into his flesh.

"Say my name again," he commanded, his breath hot against your neck.

"Berlin" I moan while looking into his eyes.Berlin fucks you hard making you scream while he grunts. "Fucking tight" He was relentless, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless. His hands were everywhere - gripping your hips, grasping your hair, exploring every inch of your body. He was completely feral, consumed by desire and hunger."You're mine,"

You whimpered and clung to him more, scratching his back. "Berlin" You continued to whimper. He growled in response, his hand tangling in your hair and tugging your head back, exposing your neck to his lips.

"That's right, darling," he murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your flesh. "Say my name, let everyone know who owns you."

"I'm yours" you whimper out with ragged breaths.

He chuckles slightly "Say it again" he says.

"I'm yours" you repeated, your voice a breathy whisper.

"Louder" he ordered, a possessive edge to his voice.

You scream as you feel his thrusts getting harder, hitting your g-spot. “Yours” You screamed. He grins, satisfaction clear on his face.

"That's more like it," he purrs, his hand moving down to your hip, pulling you even closer to him.

"Mine" he repeated, his breath hot against your neck. "All. Mine."You captured his face and kissed him.

He returned the kiss hungrily, his body pressing against yours. His lips were demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth with an intensity that made your head spin. It was almost as if he was marking you, claiming you as his own, and you couldn't find it in yourself to resist."I'll never let you go," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. "You're mine, darling. Mine forever."

You moaned and came triggering his orgasm too. Berlin came inside you and sighs biting your neck. "Now you're full of me baby" he whispered. You were both panting, your bodies slick with sweat and exertion. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You could feel the possessive edge to his touch, the way he held you as if he was afraid you would escape.

"Mine," he repeated, his voice a low grow. "You're mine now."

You were too tired to resist, even if you'd wanted to. You just leaned into him, your head resting on his chest. His heart was still pounding, a steady rhythm that soothed you.

"I hate you," you mumbled weakly, the words lacking any real malice.He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath you.

"I know," he said, his tone almost fond. "You always say that, but I think we both know it's not true anymore."

"Shut up," you muttered, too exhausted to argue.

He laughed softly, his hand coming up to stroke your hair.

"You're so stubborn, darling," he murmured, his touch gentle and possessive at the same time. "But you can't deny how good this feels."

You nod and hide in his chest. He held you close, his arms a tight cocoon around you.

"Just admit it, you've grown fond of me," he teased, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

"Never," you mumbled into his chest, but there was no real conviction in your voice.

He chuckled, obviously not fooled by your weak protest.

"You're a terrible liar," he said softly, his hand coming up to lift your chin, forcing you to look at him.

You smiled sweetly. He smiled back, his gaze softening as he took in the sight of your face.

"There it is," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lips. "That beautiful smile."

You blushed under his stare, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Stop it," you mumbled, but he just chuckled and tightened his grip on you.

"No," he said, his voice a low growl. "I don't think I will. I like seeing you like this - blushing, bashful, and all mine."You rolled your eyes but couldn't help feeling a flutter in your stomach at his words. It was infuriating how he could make you feel so vulnerable and yet so desired at the same time.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

"You can deny it all you want, but I know the truth," he whispered. "You crave me just as much as I crave you. You may hate me, but you also want me."You closed your eyes and let his words wash over you. His voice was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive. You couldn't help but surrender to the way he spoke, the way he made you feel.

"That's it, darling," he murmured. "Just give in to me. Let me make you feel good."

You nodded slightly, your body completely boneless in his arms. You couldn't fight it anymore. You needed him, in every way imaginable.

He chuckled softly, obviously pleased with your surrender.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hands roaming over your body again, taking full advantage of your willingness.He kissed you deeply, his touch both soft and demanding at the same time. You responded eagerly, eagerly returning his kisses and touches. It was like a switch had been flipped, and you were now completely at his mercy.He took his time, exploring your body with his hands and mouth, learning every inch of you. He knew exactly what buttons to push, what soft spots to kiss, what words would make you squirm and shiver.

You were completely lost in him, your mind fuzzy with pleasure and need. All your hatred and animosity towards him had disappeared, replaced by an overwhelming desire."Look at you," he murmured, his voice a low growl as he looked down at you. "So beautiful, so eager for me. You're mine, darling. Mine and no one else's."

You nodded, your eyes wide and needy, silently begging for more.

He chuckled softly, clearly pleased with your surrender.

"So obedient," he teased, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

He lowered his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. "I love seeing you like this," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "All flushed and panting for me."You groaned softly, your body arching towards him, seeking more of his touch.

He chuckled again, obviously enjoying how responsive you were.

"You're so easy to rile up, darling," he whispered. "It's like your body was made for me. Made to be teased and played with."

"Only you" you admitted. He grinned and captured your face and kisses you deeply

[eand47]

The 'Nice Lady'

ONE SHOT (REQUEST) - Portgas D Ace/Reader (female)

REQUEST: I am not sure if you take requests but if you do, can you do a small fluff of ace introducing y/n as his wife in alabasta to the strawhats!

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, use of pet names, Ace is a little touchy but you don't mind, stealing, fighting marines

WORD COUNT: 3,7K

✰ masterlist ✰

NOTE: This request was so fun to write so I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did ♡ I know that it took me a month to post it and that is why the end is kind of rushed, for which I'm sorry, but I hope you guys understand that things take time and that writing is just a hobby for me ♡ Thank you for all the support ♡ Feel free to like, comment and reblog as it helps reaching more people ♡ Enjoy♡

Arabasta – the hottest island and country you have ever been on. Sand and endless kilometers of desert between each city are everywhere. Right now, you are in Alubarna, an ancient city and the capital of Arabasta. The city architecture is manly domed buildings and towers, with ruins from the past all over the outside parts of it, making it very exotic and attractive for people from other islands to visit and explore, though now it is mostly local people around as the country has suffered a big lack of water so the drought that has taken over the country is life treating, except for the capital.

Looking for an escape from the burning hot sun in the busy market streets in Alubarna, you have found yourself in a small clothes shop, trying on different and typical for the country dresses or two-piece sets. Taking look at the mirror and twisting your body left and right you will lie to yourself if you say that you haven’t fallen in love with the current two piece set you are wearing. It is a beautify long white skirt with golden belt on top of the waistline with small Caribbean blue stones attach to it. Your chest is covered by a white top – white see-through long sleaves and a bra part, covered in white and golden sequins with a beautiful crafted Caribbean blue stone in the middle of it, you have never felt prettier in a pair of clothes as you feel now. Looking at the mirror you feel like a princess of the desert.

“You are definitely coming home with me.” You murmur with a smile to yourself as you check yourself out one last time. “How much are you by the way?” Tapping with your hands trying to find the price tag your eyes widen once you have found it. “A thousand and five hundred berries! Are they crazy?” Shaking your head in disbelief you take the price tag in your hands and tear it away from the skirt. “Not like I was planning to pay for it anyway.” You whisper with a smile as you gather your own clothes in the small green zebra print bag you have carried with yourself. Stepping out of the changing room you look around carefully before going to the cash register.   

“Oh, I see you have liked the set, m’lady.” The middle-aged man, the owner of the shop you guess, says as he sees you approaching him.

“Yes, I did – in fact I plan to buy more, but you see...” Your gesture to him to get closer to you like you don’t want the rest of the customers to hear what you are about to say. “I’m very pretensions and I was wondering - do you by any chance have something that it hasn’t been displayed yet?” You flutter your lashes at him. “The price doesn’t matter.” You give a little wink as you see him falling for your little act.

The middle aged, slightly round and bald man’s eyes spark with happiness as he hears this – you are his favourite type of client. He tells you to give him a second and that he will be back in just a second and the moment he leaves the cash register you don’t waste any time and run out of the shop. After a moment you hear a scream, a yell, something among the lines “Catch the bugler!”, but it is too late now as you have already escaped and blend yourself with the crowd in the market.

Walking along the streets you start to look around for your husband. He has to be somewhere near by, you just hope he hasn’t wandered somewhere far away, as sometimes he has the habit to does so.

“Buy this apple and you will be able to live up to thousand years.” You hear a merchant offer his scammed goods to someone.

"Sorry, I'm not interested in living thousand years. I just need to live today." You hear the person responds, and a sly smirk appears on your lips. Fixing your posture and lifting your chin up a bit, you start walking around the market a bit more confident. It doesn’t take long before you hear a voice behind you. “Who in their right mind has let you wander around all by yourself?”

Biting on your inner cheek, trying to stop yourself from smiling, you answer. “My husband.”  

“Ah, what a fool is your husband. Letting a gem like you all alone.” The person walking behind dramatically says. “What if someone steals you?”

“I doubt someone would dare.” You shrug with one shoulder as you make a turn, walking into a small dead-end alley, away from preying eyes.

“Hm, how so?” The man behind you smirks as he has followed you and now stands even close to you.

“Because my husband always finds me.” You smile as you turn around to face the man standing behind you and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a burning, full of passion kiss.

“You look beautiful baby.” Ace says as he pulls away from you and checks you all without any remorse. “Damn, I really need to stop letting wander by yourself, because someone might steal you from me for real.” He pulls you close to him as he runs his hands around your bare waist, feeling your soft skin under his fingers.

“I can say the same for you Portgas.” You giggle as you place your fingers on his broad muscular chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingers. He is always so warm, even without the burning sun, Ace is like a walking one, but you don’t mind it, you never had and never will. After all you have gotten a personal heating blanket in the face of your husband for the rest of your life, how can you complain? “Are you hungry my love?”

“Always.” He slowly nods and licks his lower lip, not being able to tear his eyes from the curves of your body in this two-piece set. He usually can’t take his eyes of you no matter what you are wearing, or not wearing, but this piece of clothing is doing something to him.

“I meant food Ace.” You softly sigh as you place two fingers under his chin and lift it up so he can look at your eyes. “Eyes here boy. So, are you hungry?”

“Always.” He says as he pulls you close to him once again and kisses the top of your head before you get on your way to dish and dash somewhere.

You are both sitting at the bar in the first restaurant you have found. While Ace is already on his third plate you are still on your first, taking your time savouring the taste of the tipical local dish you have ordered for yourself, enjoying the new flavours that you are trying for a first time ever, while your husband just appreciates the fact that the food is good.

“Have you got any leads so far?” You ask your raven-haired husband.

“No.” He answers with frowned brows. “But I’m sure I have something on Lu-” Hearing a loud splash noise from the plate of your husband, you jump on the side as you don’t need to look to see that it is in fact him having a narcolepsy attack midway lunch.

“Thanks God, he didn’t eat something with sauce on it.” You breathe out relieved, after checking your outfit to see it has gotten a spot or something from the food. People in the restaurant gather around your worried, but you told them not to worry as you got this. Pulling Ace up, you clean his face with a napkin as this has become like a second nature to you now, as he slowly starts to wake up.

“Sorry, baby. Please don’t tell me I ruined your clothes.” He gives you an apologetic look as he checks you out to make sure he hasn’t splashed any food on you. You shake your head with a smile and before you get the chance to respond to him - he is gone. Your husband is literally gone, as he has been swept away with a force straight through some walls and now instead of him, a guy identically looking like your husband, stands next to you.

“Ha, now this is interesting turn of events.” You chuckle as you observe the boy with the straw hat standing next to you. “Running away from trouble Luffy?” You ask like you have known him for years, even though this is the first time ever you see your husband’s little brother, whom you only know from stories and his bounty poster.

“Yes, this annoying Smoker doesn’t leave me alone.” He answers to you without even questioning how you even know him or what is he running from. “Hey, are you eating all this by yourself?” He looks back and forth between you and the three extra plates left with food from your husband.

“Eat them if you are hungry.” You smile and hand one of the plates to the young reckless pirate and his eyes widen from happiness as he takes the plate and devours it in seconds. “You can take the rest as well.” You say standing up as you make your way to where your husband has been sent flying to make sure that he is okay, you know he is, but you are sure he would like to know that it was his little brother who caused all that.

“Thank you, nice lady.” Luffy screams after you with full mouth.

You just giggle as you make your way through the broken walls. “Damn, this was quite the impact.” Murmuring under your breath you finally reach your husband, who is getting up from the ground and doesn’t look very happy with what have happened. “Are you okay, Ace?” Your sweet voice catches up his attention and he just nod. Opening his mouth to say something he is getting interrupt by a yell from Smoker, who you haven’t even noticed until now, but he is long gone before any of you can react as he goes to chase after Luffy once again.

“Straw-hat?” Ace looks at you with excitement.

“Yes, I forgot to mention that the person behind this mess in no other than your little brother, so I think you might want to jump in the chase.” With a little twist of your body to the side you gesture to your husband to go run after his brother.

“You know where to meet me princess.” Ace says as he gives you a quick peck on the lips and runs after his brother.

“Huh? That’s weird. Why am I the only one here?” Luffy wonders as he finds himself in a dead alley sitting on a water barrel, with neither his crew nor brother around. Speaking of his brother, he still can’t believe he has reunited with him after not seeing each other for who knows how long. “Where did everyone go?”

“Sheesh! I guess my letting you escape was pretty pointless.” Luffy hears the too familiar voice sarcastically says somewhere close to him. Looking around and then finally up, Luffy sees his older brother standing there with a big smile.

“Yo, Ace!” Luffy jumps on his feet as his brother lands on the ground.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Luffy.” Observing now his grown little brother, Ace can’t feel anything else but be proud of him and of the man his is becoming.

“You too, Ace.” Both grip on each others’ hands is a strong lock over the barrel. “How long has it been?”

“Good question, but Luffy, it looks like you still go on your own pace, just like you did when you were kid.” Ace smirks mischievously as he can feel his brother putting force in trying to get Ace’s hand down and claim himself a winner.

“You too, Ace. I was surprised you ate a Devil Fruit, but besides that you’re the same.” Luffy says with a big grin.

“Oh, ye?” Ace laughs out loud as he hasn’t expected to hear this. He has definitely changed a lot since they last saw each other.

“Like when you would sneak into the fields and eat a hundred watermelons and then spit the seeds like your mouth is a gun and run?” Luffy blurs out fast as Ace has taken upper hand in their hand fight.

“This wasn’t me. It was you.”

“And then you got big bumps right here.”

“That was you again. I just watched and laughed.” Ace says as he is close to take the hand of his little brother down, but the barrel with water under them breaks due to their strength and their hands stay in the air locked in a firm handshake.

“I guess we’re both the same.” Luffy’s big smile spread across his face as him and Ace unlock hands and go for a high-five. “This brings back memories.”

Walking around town the two brothers are having small talks and catching up to each other, yet Ace still hasn’t mentioned the fact that he has married the girl of his dreams recently as he wants to do this when you are standing next to him. You have turned his life upside down in the best way possible and having you in it makes it finally worth living.

“Say, what kind of crew you have?” Ace is curious to know with what people his little brother has surrounded himself and Luffy wastes no time telling him about his crew – a swordsman, a navigator, a cook, a lair and the latest addition a reindeer. “That’s quite the variety you’ve got there.”

“We also have a princess and a duck now.” Luffy excitedly exclaims. “They’re all so interesting.”

“I’m sure you are the most interesting of them all.” Ace chuckles. “Still, a handful of people for a pirate crew... That’s just like you.” He smirks looking at Luffy.

“And I want a musician, too.”

You are waiting patiently by the Striker. It has been some time now, but you are sure that Ace is just catching up with his little brother. As you are sitting and waiting, finally, you see you husbands silhouette approaching you. You get up on your feet and smile at him once he stands in front of you.

“How was it?” You ask while wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You have to meet him officially.” Ace tells you with a big smile. “He is already on his ship so we can make a quick visit. After all I need to check his crew personally, what if they are not good enough for him?”

“Ay, ay commander.” You laugh out.

You and Ace gather your things quickly in the Striker and get to the open sea fast. As you are approaching the Going Merry you notice that there are quite lot of marines.

“I will take care of them.” Ace winks at you and you playfully roll your eyes. He just wants to show off to his little brother and crew, but you won’t deny that you enjoy the show yourself. It doesn’t take long for your husband to take down the three marines ships after all he is Fire Fist Ace, what else is there to be said?

Landing on the railing of the Going Merry, Ace is met with an awe by the entire crew. While they are having their little interaction you have reached the ship with the Striker and quietly made your way up to your husband who sensed you the moment you stopped your little boat.

“Hey, Luffy.” Ace awkwardly says with a big grin spread across his lips. “There is someone I would like you to meet.” He scratches the back of his neck as he is not sure exactly how to announce to his brother that he is a married man now. “You see I-”

“Hey, what are you doing here, nice lady?” Luffy asks confused as he is the first one to notice you standing next to Ace on the railing, and now him, his crew and your husband all look at you confused. A sea of questions start being thrown at you from how you managed to get on the ship to who you are, until one particular question takes everyone out by surprise.

“Nice lady? Why does he call you this?” Ace looks at you in confusion.

“Oh, we met in the restaurant where he sent you flying.” You explain with a smile and Ace’s eyes shit to Luffy who nods his head in confirmation.

“She let me eat for free.” Luffy adds and now it all makes sense to Ace why he calls you the ‘nice lady’. “How you two know each other?”

Looking at you, with all the love and admiration in the world, Ace can’t stop the smile which spreads across his face as he says, “This is my wife.” You return the smile as you two step down of the railing into the deck and interlace your fingers. “Luffy and crew, this is my wife (Y/N).” Ace introduces you to everyone and they are all in awe, now that the confusion and shock has passed away.

“He is a good big brother.” Chopper, the cute reindeer doctor says, and Usopp the guy with unusual long nose nods in agreement.

“Wish I had one growing up.” Usopp adds to Chopper’s comment.

“And he is a good husband.” Nami the navigator of the ship as she has introduced herself to you exclames as she cluches her chest admiring you and Ace.

“A loving one on top of it.” Vivi, the princess of Arabasta, adds as she wraps her arms around Nami.

“I hope I get blessed with such a beautiful, gorgeous wife myself one day.” Sanji, the cook of the ship cries out, and for a moment you even think that if his eyes can turn into a heart shape they will. 

“Simp.” Zoro, the swordsman, makes fun of him, but the blush on his face is not helping as he shyly takes glance at you.

“Wife? Why?” Luffy’s eyes shifts between you and Ace in slight confusion. The whole concept of marriage has been something he has never understood so this is a bit confusing for him.

“What do you mean by why, you idiot?” Sanji screamed at him. “Having a wife as beautiful as (Y/N)-swan must be the closest feeling to heaven.” He cries out again.

You and your husband just laugh at the scene in front of you. His brother is exactly as he has described him, but he is obviously a good kid with good friends along his journey.

“When did you two married?” Vivi looks at you excitedly and Nami follows her with a question.

“How did you two meet?”

“How do you find a woman like her?” The lovesick cook cries out... again.

Before you or Ace can answer any question Luffy interrupts. “Why don’t you stay with us for a bit?” To which you agree.

Two days have past since you have joined the crew and both, you and Ace, are having fun with his brother and friends. The similarities between Ace and Luffy sometimes scare you a bit, due to the fact that you are aware they are not biological brothers by any means, yet they act and look like ones so much.

The night has taken over the desert and you are having fun with the girls, missing the feeling of having female company around you, as the crew you are part of is mostly made of men, which you don’t mind, because not only you have met the love of your life among these men, but also your family.

Everyone has started preparing to go to sleep, while the little adorable reindeer Chopper is having a little banter with Usopp, but Zoro is quick to put an end to it. Meanwhile Ace is observing everyone and everything carefully, enjoying the night, but also lost in his own thoughts.

“Yo, Luffy. Come here.” Ace calls out for his brother and signals to him with a nod to follow him. Stepping aside from everyone and making sure that no one would hear him, Ace looks at Luffy seriously. “I want you to promise me something.”

“What?” Luffy raises one brow a little annoyed with his brother interrupting his fun before bed.  

“If something ever happens to me, I-” Ace can’t finish his sentence as he is quickly being interrupt.

“What do you mean if something happens to you? You have promised me that you won’t die.” His brother is quick to remind him the promise Ace has given a long time ago.

“And I won’t.” Ace replies slight harshly as his brother doesn’t even let him finish his sentence. “Now let me finish what I have to say.” He scolds Luffy. “I’m saying – If something happens to me, I want you to promise me to take care of her.” Ace can’t help but look at your direction. “I know she is strong and can handle herself no matter what, but please, promise me that you will look after her if something ever happens.” He returns his attention to his brother.

“I promise Ace. But you also have a promise to keep.”

“And I will.” Ace winks to his little brother as he pats his back, and they return to the rest of the group.

Seeing them coming back you give Ace a smile – a smile for which he is willing to die for but also keep on living for every day, as his days have become better since the day he saw it for a first time ever. Back there he has promised to himself on the spot that he will call you his wife no matter what, and he did keep his promise.

writing, format, header & dividers © eand47 ©eand47, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[postmoe]

I find it attractive of a beta or alpha get turned into an omega if they get fucked to much. So what about yandere alpha geshu lin x beta/alpha male reader x yandere alpha jiyan. Or yandere Mydei x beta/alpha male Reader x yandere alpha Phainon. Reader getting turned into an omega so they can keep him all to themselves and maybe baby trap him ��.

dude i have so many beta fantasies it's not even funny. thank you for this opportunity.

non-con, abo, male reader, beta -> omega reader,

.

It was always the three of you; Phainon, Mydei, (Y/n). You went through training together, fought the hardest battles together, everyone revered you like you were unstoppable.

Well, everyone respected you in a passive/aggressive way because you were covered in the musk of two supreme alphas. Unfortunately for you, in the womb, you never grew to the next stage from being a beta.

Betas were pretty rare now, they started off as the dominant second gender, but as time grew so did the power of evolution. Everyone starts off in the womb as a beta, then months down the line you unlock your social status. Sometimes, you just get stuck as the runt. There have been few cases of people opening their second gender later in life, though only within a very specific fate of events.

It's not all bad. Apparently, Mydei's and Phainon's scent was so extreme that a lot of people couldn't stand near them for a certain amount of time. Alpha's get antsy, compliment or aggressive. Omegas have gone into heat on the spot, rolling over motionless as their hormones take over. Now, they're pretty good at controlling their smell, or so everyone says.

It never bothered you to begin with, your nose not suited to judge others. You couldn't read emotions if it wasn't present on their face, which in this day and age is more of a talent than anything; at least, that's what Phainon says to make you feel better.

For a beta to get this far in life is pretty astonishing. You realise you had a lot of help from your two friends. They've been able to sniff you out when you're in danger, or their scent that lingers on your clothes is enough to stop any intelligent bandit or monster. However, even when you're feeling down about it, even when the world criticizes you for 'using' two alphas to your advantage, they both have been there to keep you reeled in.

"Why do you even bother trying to lie to us," Mydei huffs, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest, "You have a smell, too. It's not like we don't know what you're feeling."

"That's unfair," you sigh, shoulders slumping, "Maybe I just don't want to talk about it, ever think of that?"

Phainon nods, his arms coming to drape over your shoulders from behind, rubbing his cheek against yours, "Everyone is allowed to have their secrets."

You roll your eyes, going back to polishing your sword with the rag while he lounges against you, "It's not even a secret, just the usual shit." You go silent for a moment, feeling their eyes burn holes into for more information. It should have been common knowledge by now that you won't get out of anything from them, so you gently place your sword down groan, "Fine! I walked past one of your fan groups today. An omega was saying how I was only holding back your true potential, that with me on the battlefield then you can't go all out."

Both of them opened their mouths to speak, you held up your hand to zip them shut.

"And before you say anything; yes, I know that I'm strong too. Yes, I know I can fight. Yes, I know they're just 'jealous' that I get to hang around you." You can't make eye contact with either of them, knowing that you might just crack if you do, "... It doesn't always help. I'm okay with that, though. This is the life I chose and I can deal with all the shit thrown my way."

Phainon buried his face in your neck, sniffling into one of your more sensitive parts, the scent glands. You shivered from the contact, he didn't seem to mind as he practically cried, "You're so strong, (Y/n)! But you know, you still have to take care of your mental health, too. I think you should stay away from those people for a while."

Mydei stood from his spot on the grass and walked over, ruffling your hair with his hand before dragging it down your face and to trace your neck, "We haven't been around because of the recent attacks, so our scent is waning from you. Here, we'll ward them off."

You shook your head out of their grip and rolled to the side, away from them, "I don't need you to scare anyone away by smothering me. I think your scent only makes them more mad."

"It's natural biology for an alpha to cover what's theirs in their smell, you can't just tell us to stop," Phainon argues, shrugging like it's the most obvious thing.

With a laugh, you stand and pick up your sword, "Since when am I yours?"

They both silently looked to each other, communicating in a language you would never understand. Mydei tells you, "You've been our beta longer than you've been alone."

"Yep~" Phainon teases, "Should have thought about that before you became our friend."

Yeah, right. One day these two will find their omegas, they'll create a beautiful family and you can be the cool, beta uncle that showers the kids in annoying gifts to rile up their parents. "Sure, whatever," you dismiss, now taking on an offensive stance, "So, we sparring or what?"

...

Storm season is fast approaching in this part of the land. You three had been sent out patrol the far, outer lands on a 'boys' camping trip'. The trek made you sweaty, the days humid and the nights cold, yet you didn't stop until you reached an open cave near the top of the mountain.

Forests surround you, rushing rivers and falls heard in the distance, and the sounds of insects chirping were drowning your ears. You had abandoned your shirt long ago, rolling yourself in insect repellent that did well to make your two companions scrunch up their noses in distaste.

As you set down the heavy bags in the cave, the sun setting in the distance, you noticed some faded, rock drawings on the walls. Walking up to them, you see crude images of stick figure deaths, a chimera with little hearts around it and a spurting dick. Phainon placed his hand on your shoulder, "Mydei drew the penis."

You both look over to see him skulling his sack of water, giving you both the middle finger. You purse your lips, "Even though I've known you for so long, it's always weird to see such a childish side of you."

After setting up camp, you realise how much you may have missed when you weren't able to accompany them on missions. This place is gorgeous, and they only tell tales of greater environments, it left you feeling a sense of awe and a pang of sadness. When they laugh together, bicker, playfully shove at each other, you can see it the way everyone else sees it.

Two, great alphas Mydei and Phainon - plus you. Little, ol' beta you.

It's nothing to get worked up over. Not a big deal, not an issue at all. You notice they've stopped talking and are looking at you with concern. Fuck. Why are you having this crisis now of all times? They can definitely smell you, they know what you're feeling and they're expecting an answer.

You smile at them widely, "Sorry, I just got lost in a daydream." Can they smell when you lie, too? If so, they speak nothing of it.

...

Being able to swim in such beautiful, clean water was a luxury you didn't know you needed. The baths and streams around Okhema were amazing, there's no doubt about it. Hot springs sent from natural sources, lotions and soaps created from the best ingredients, but this... This was something altogether new.

The water was a cold that made your muscles relax, the flavour refreshing and dare you say, curative. The sound was a delightful white noise of rushing water and splashing ripples from either of you or the fish that swim by.

On the shore, Phainon was the last to disrobe, the three of you deciding to skinny dip as a fun, good morning. You greet him with a smile as he resurfaces from bombing into the water, shaking your face of stray droplets, "Are you sure it's alright for us all to be here? I really think one of us should keep watch at the cave."

He lays on his back, closing his eyes while he floats around you, "Don't stress, there are others at points around the outer city. Someone is always watching from one direction or another."

"I see... I guess I'm just wor-" your voice is cut off as your ankle is suddenly grabbed and you're yanked down under the surface. You see the blurry image of Mydei, the red tattooed lines on his skin the main stand out for the fuzzy, underwater alpha.

The two of you duke it out - poorly - until you both resurface and you're gasping for air. He huffs out a breath of his own, hiding any semblance of exhaustion, "You're going to need to fight better than that if you want to get on our level."

As if coming to your rescue, Phainon swims over to him, "Oh, please, as if it's normal for someone to be capable of fighting under water." He then winks to you before shoving the blonde's head down, effectively drowning him out.

The three of you relax around the falls, floating idly in the water side-by-side. You think you could fall asleep, except your nose twitches at an interesting smell. You've smelt it before, very faintly and only when they really push it. What can be excruciatingly stunning to others, you only get a whiff of as a beta; the smell of these alphas.

Mydei and Phainon are a rare sort, extremely strong and capable of power beyond mosts comprehension. A few people are rare like that, some omegas even being too intoxicating for the outside world. It's a pleasant smell, to you, something you not-so-secretly indulge in whenever you get the chance. It also makes you feel slightly more normal.

You wade over and gently rest your head on the upper part of Mydei's stomach, closing your eyes and sighing happily, "I don't get why people can't be around you guys if you're too strong. I like your smell."

Phainon playfully pouts at you choosing Mydei, coming over to join you and rest his head on his chest. He inhales the Kremnoan's scent, smiling serenely, "Omega's and Alpha's never really stop developing their senses until their mid 30's. The older you get, even smells like perfumes can become too much, let alone the emotions of someone with tremendous power."

"Does that mean you guys aren't holding back anymore if I can smell you?"

Mydei moves a wet hand to pet your head, "We don't need to hold back up here."

"Besides," Phainon gazes at you with a fondness in his eyes, "It's nice to share something so personal with someone close, don't you think?"

They can't just relax like this around anyone, and since you all spend most of your time in the city, you hardly get a chance to get a whiff of them. A giddy smile decorates your face, your eyes closing as you relax once more, "Yeah, I agree."

...

On the third day you notice something odd. Your friend's seem to be more agitated, little offsets leading to snarling and biting, every twig snap or rustle has them staring in that direction in case of a particular threat.

You've never seen them like this.

They must be stressed by all the work that's been unloaded onto them. An argument broke out five minutes ago about something you didn't understand, the two deciding to take a walk to cool off and collect more firewood. You decide that this is the perfect time to help them out, picking up a sword and attaching it to your waist before heading out on a patrol. When you get back, they can relax at the duties already being fulfilled.

You don't know the area very well, however, you did accompany them the past couple of nights so you have an idea of where to go. You're not too stressed about getting lost, the trail somewhat visible to someone like you, who has been taught overcome these kinds of obstacles. What you didn't expect was that it gets darker quicker under the canopy of trees.

It appeared you had an hour of daylight left, yet only fifteen minutes later and you noticed a dramatic change. The mountains are certainly an interesting place to be, you're usually stationed closer to the city and nearer the fallen towns.

With the darkness comes fauna that arouse at night, a particular croak gaining your attention. You crouch down with interest, seeing a teal coloured frog with a lighter stomach hop into a puddle. It was smaller than the palm of your hand, yet the sound it made was so loud you would never expect it to come from such a tiny creature.

Your admiration was halted as you hear heavy thumping from deeper in the brush. It's fast, leaves and sticks being moved and thrown out of the way to make room for whatever is coming at you. You quickly draw your sword and take a defensive stance, readying for whatever may be in store.

If it's a boar or something similar, you could climb one of the thicker trees and make your way around by jumping branches. If it's something more like a giant bush cat, then you would have no choice but to fight it.

Turns out, it was neither. Before you had the opportunity to lay eyes on it, there is ablur of movement and your weapon is thrusted from your hand, flying off and landing into the dark distance. You're immediately incapacitated, wrist close to snapping and arm yanked back as you're brought to your knees.

Mydei is snarling aggressively in your ear, holding you down like some convict trying to escape. He spits his words like venom, "What the fuck did you think you were doing? Are you stupid?! Leaving the nest like that wandering off on your own!"

You cry out in pain as he tightens his grip, the sound and pheromones you let off making him back off slightly but not letting go.

Before you can ask what the hell is going on, Phainon appears behind you and walks around so he can kneel at your front. He tenderly cradles your face and looks over you for any other injuries, "Don't hurt him, Mydei. He made a stupid decision but it wasn't his fault."

A breath of relief leaves you when he finally lets go. You slump and cradle your aching arm, flinching when Mydei falls to his knees behind you and resting his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbles into your flesh, "Why did you leave like that? You could have gotten hurt."

With a new found annoyance, you flick Phainon's hands away from you and shrug the other off your back, "What the fuck??? Why are you both acting like I just up and left?"

"Because you did up and leave," Mydei growls, only halting when he and Phainon meet with a hard glare. He tuts and stands, making sure you have nowhere to run if you decided to flee, "We should have just been outright with him from the beginning."

You didn't like the sound of that. Without a word, you look to Phainon for an answer, Mydei is acting too impulsive for your liking right now. Phainon stands before you, both of them now crowding any escape with how close they are, "In truth, we brought you up here because we knew our ruts were coming and we wanted you with us."

"P-Pardon?" It was so incredulous you were sure you heard wrong. But, what else could he have said? "You do know what I am, right? We've only known each other for a couple of decades so be honest if you need a reminder."

Mydei scoffs and grabs you by the back of your shirt, hefting you to your tippy toes to growl, "Our Beta's got jokes. If you can jest then you can mate."

"WHAT?!" You kick your feet comically in the air, trying to find some sort of purchase, "I can't mate - I physically cannot mate! Not with an Alpha!!"

Phainon chimes in giddily, "Two Alphas! Don't worry, we'll ensure you're thoroughly pregnant by the end of this rut."

Body limits aside, being a beta means your reproductive organs aren't open to be used. They're sitting inside you, dormant. For some reason, you don't think they see that as a drawback, instead viewing your biology as more of a challenge to be tackled.

...

Day six and you're sore. Your legs, which have been in every position possible. Your arms, which are restrained when they're doing anything that's not fucking you. Your poor, poor hole, which hasn't been dry in days. Your oversensitive cock, now you can't tell what liquid comes out, your last orgasm streaming like piss on the rock below.

Phainon drags his hot, wet tongue up your neck, moaning as he slips his erected cock into you again. Your mouth hangs open, arse clenching when he's stopped by his knot hitting your rim. He's got you in a full nelson, your thighs over his own, a sound of discomfort coming from you at the stretch of his knot trying to enter you.

He shudders, lightly humping upwards, "Do you smell that, Mydei? He's changing."

Mydei flops his own dick in your face, tracing his leaking tip along the bone of your cheek before he slips his length between your lips, "How interesting. All our darling beta needed was a little push."

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as they fuck you again, your pretty, little hole gaping ever larger to accommodate them.

...

The cold, wet soil near the falls was blissful on your overheating skin. You've never felt this hot before, you assume it's a fever coming on from being under these two for however many days now. Mydei has you on your back, tongue swirling and mouth slurping at your puckered arse.

It was nice to just relax and be tended to, as fucked up as that seems. Phainon was behind him, washing his own body and admiring the scene before him.

Mydei licks a stripe from your hole, up the length of your taint and to your flaccid cock. He coos patronisingly, kissing the sensitive tip and making you jolt, "Poor sweetheart, have we been too rough with you?"

It's too little too late to ask you that now. You stick with your mission of giving them the silent treatment unless necessary, turning your head away and closing your eyes, thinking back on the coolness of the soil.

Until, "A-Ahh! S-Stop!" You moan, hands going to his hair and yanking as hard as you can, trying to stop him from swallowing your cock and drinking it over and over again. The way his tongue and cheeks move against your flesh has you throbbing and twitching in his mouth. "I can't, I can't," you breathe, swaying your head side to side as if to deny the oncoming torture.

But you can't, even half-hard he has you spurting your cum down his throat. You hold his head down with each half-hearted thrust, only to pull again before another tingling jolt of your hips.

When you can open your eyes again, you pleadingly gaze to Phainon, who had paused his washing to stare solely at you both. His eyes dart to meet yours, mind working overtime to bring him out of his daze and pull lightly on his companion, "Hey, save some for me, okay? Let him recuperate a bit."

Mydei flies his elbow back, not getting off you. At this, Phainon clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and locks the blonde's head with his elbow, flipping him back into the water.

You take a deep breath as they start to wrestle. Now you can rest again, you rarely get time to yourself now. When they sleep, sometimes, you're still plugged with one of them inside you, cockwarming throughout the night. Otherwise, when they go hunting, you might be tied tightly inside the cave, though there is usually at least one of them with you.

A gentle rain starts, the drops hitting your heated face. You need this, the rain a lot cooler than the falls as it collects in the sky. Lately, you've been feeling weird, unwell, hot. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

Not to mention their scent. The boys' sweat, bodies, just everything about them is becoming less off putting and more desirable than ever. If you're honest, you're scared with what's happening.

...

They had both left you in the cave, the rain a perfect mask for hunting good meat right now.

"Need to keep our darling's energy up!"

You're not sure when, but some time after they left you were reeling in some sort of pain. Not like being slashed by a sword, or thrown by an enemy, but more like a strange punch to the gut. It blossomed within you and bloomed around your body, effecting your head and pelvis the most.

Breathing became difficult, your chest rising and falling quickly, you couldn't focus on how to fix it. No, not with the gnawing pain and discomfort in your gut.

You had wormed your way towards the entrance but the rope only let you go so far. They didn't give you enough leeway to get more than halfway through the cave, which meant you couldn't get any rain to cool you down.

What you did find, however, was their sashes they didn't wear today. Your nose twitched, and you reached your tied wrists over so your fingers could grab the red fabric and scrunched it to your face, moaning in absolute delight. Quickly, you secured the blue and gold one and weaved it between your legs, covering as much of your body as you could.

You're not sure when they came back, only realising they were standing ominously at the entrance of the cave when their musk started to seep heavier than the sashes you were breathing. The rain hadn't let up, both of them drenched and Mydei holding the antlers of a dead deer beside him.

Your jaw trembles, tears running down your cheeks as you whimper, "What's happening to me?"

It's only when you talk do they enter, dropping the carcass to the side before carefully kneeling down to cradle you. Your ropes are torn off and you sit between the two men, both leaning so they can run their teeth over the scent glands in your neck.

You whine as Mydei gently nibbles you, a low groan causing your cock to leak rivulets down your shaft, "Perfect for biting now."

Phainon reaches to gasp your cock, smoothly jerking up the length before circling his fingers along the glands, "I knew your unawaken second gender was this. You just had to be an omega, what with the way you were taunting us; begging to be bred."

Unawaken... Omega? No, that's-

"Hah~ Please..." You lift your hips when you feel fingers enter inside you, easily stretching you open now.

Mydei chuckles deeply, grinning at all the new possibilities going through his head, "Perfect for knotting now, too."

[softkostyk]

[✨just speculation✨]

okay but,,,,, expanding on what @zombiecowboy65 said about jean initiating and jeremy pulling away because “I’m not enough for you”,,,,, what if [takes a deep breath] jeremy tries saying something about theirs being just physical attraction “you only think you want this” in hopes jean will give up on pursuing their romantic relationship and jean goes “don’t lie to me. you cannot lie to me about this,” gesturing between them. and jeremy breaks down in tears because he’s so so afraid. what if. wouldn’t that be delicious

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch 2

“For good services and cute waitresses”

pairing: pre militaryljk x fuckbuddy!oc

contents: mild language, no smut (yet), fluff, humour, celeb au, a bit of angst, flirting, TENSION. lowkey mean manager. kind of dramatic oc.

wc: 4k

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: if anyone wants to join pls comment!!

masterlist , <prev | next>

It’s 1am, and you and Nari have decided to have a girls night at her apartment. Nari’s apartment is cosy, you and her are sat in front of her TV on her comfy floor-sofa (Which you convinced her to buy rather than a traditional sofa.) She’s glad to have listened however, night’s like these sitting on her floor, blasting music and simply enjoying each other’s company with side of wine make you grateful for having this kind of friendship.

You’d both came straight after work. It’s been a couple of days, two exactly, since Jungkook and his friends had showed up to your work, and you’re not sure who you’re trying to convince when you tell yourself you don’t care and all the exchanges between you were simply out of respect and making small talk. But honestly, who cares? Jungkook is undeniably attractive, you’re probably just another waiter he’s hitting on for fun, you’ll likely never see him again and you don’t wan-

“Do you think we’ll see them again?” Nari’s voice cuts through your thoughts, realising you’ve not been paying attention to the TV playing in the background. “Who?”

She scoffs, tucking her feet under her knees, nudging yours. “Don’t play dumb,” She’s smirking at you, and you’re biting your lip before you answer.

“I doubt it, why? And does it even matter?” You’re taking a sip of your wine, playing it cool, but Nari’s already deadpanning you as you avoid eye contact with her.

“Y/n, you don’t have to lie to me!” Shes whining, giving you puppy dog eyes and you roll your eyes and chuckle.

“Okay- Fine, maybe i do want them to come back, but i honestly don’t care if they don’t, i mean they’re just normal people right? Also, I heard some of their fans are crazy and i seriously don’t want to get caught in the middle of- What the fuck!”

Your breath catches in your throat while you stare at your phone screen, wine glass frozen mid air. Nari, instantly alert, scoots closer, “What?! What happened?”

You don’t answer, too busy reading the words in front of you. It’s a Twitter post- in fact, multiple posts—flooding your screen mid-rant, you’d decided to search Jungkook’s name up and it turns out, he wasn’t the only talk of the town today.

“JEON JUNGKOOK SPOTTED TALKING TO A MYSTERY GIRL AT RESTAURANT IN SEOUL WHO IS SHE?”

Beneath it is a blurry photo of you standing beside their table- table 3. You can tell it was taken secretly—the angle is weird, the lighting is off, but it’s unmistakably you. And even more unmistakably him. In the picture, it’s only Jungkook talking to you, the others are engrossed into the food, and Jungkook’s smirking up at you. And the comments?

“Omg she’s so lucky wtf.”

“They look kinda cute together not gonna lie.”

“Who is she??? Someone find her @.”

“She better stay away.”

“She’s literally doing her job, y’all are so weird.”

“THIS BETTER BE FAKE.”

“Oh shit.” Nari’s snatching your phone out of your hand, scrolling through the posts with wide eyes, and your stomach is churning, the longer you sit there, the more you feel like vomit’s crawling up your throat.

“Theyre talking about me..” You whisper, as if saying it out loud would make it worser than it already is. Nari hums in agreement, still scrolling. “Yep. And they’re crazy. Look at this one—‘someone find her @’? What the fuck?”

Your heart pounds as you snatch the phone back, scrolling faster. The tweet has thousands of likes already, and it’s spreading. You can see people speculating in real-time, some trying to figure out your name, others joking about Jungkook flirting with every waitress he meets.

You try to ignore that. Seeing the far bigger issue at hand.

You hate the spotlight. And this was seriously your worst nightmare, and definitely not how you’d want to end up in it if you ever did.

“Fuck- what if Jungkook sees this? What if he thinks i’ve taken the picture- Oh my god what if he thinks im a creep! I can’t, Nari-“

“Okay, first of all, he probably will see it eventually-“ That somehow makes your stomach drop further, he’ll see it. What a stupid question, of course he will. He’ll see the picture, the comments and all the speculation. “And y/n, that doesn’t even make sense, why and how would you take a picture of yourself, from that angle too?”

“I don’t know!” you groan, throwing yourself back onto the floor sofa, staring up at the ceiling. This is too much. You were fine just a few minutes ago, sipping wine and enjoying your night. Now your face is floating around Twitter alongside his, and you don’t know what to do about it.

Nari nudges your leg, giving you a look of sympathy . “Look, it’s like 2am, let’s sleep it off for now, it’ll probably die down soon, forget about this.”

You wish you could believe that. But as your phone continues to buzz, you have a sinking feeling this is just the beginning.

——

You’re shuffling through the backdoor of the restaurant, head down low and mentally cursing yourself for actually coming to work today. First of all, you’re hungover and you’d tossed and turned next to Nari all night, trying to avoid your phone and updating yourself on the… scandal.

It took some convincing on Nari’s side for you to actually come to work today. After she’d woken you up at the crack of fucking dawn all you wanted to do was go home and rot in bed, and maybe shoot your phone too. Avoid the drama.

Eventually, you gave in. Realising that suddenly not showing up makes you look suspicious- guilty. And that’s why you’re walking in, the smell of grease filling your nose.

Nari’s already behind the bar, handling customers. She notices you, waving while the regulars also wave, you smile back, however it doesn’t really reach your eyes and you know she notices.

—

You’ve changed into your work slacks and shirt, walking up to Nari when the buzz of the early morning starts to die down a bit.

“You seriously look like you wanna die.” Nari snorts when you rub your eyes, sliding a bottle of water in front of you, and you grab it and chug it fast. “Damn, thirsty much?”

You groan, crossing your arms after putting the bottle into the trash, “That obvious?”

“Just a little.” She winks, leaning against the bar, propping her chin on her palm. “But, at least you showed up. I was worried you’d actually quit and run off to live in the mountains or something. And- leave me here, to serve overpriced coffee and processed food to rich people, alone!”

You’re grinning when you look back at her and retort, “Honestly tempting, thanks for the idea.”

“Mm, I don’t think you’d last. No phone, no music, nothing.”

“You’re right, who am i kidding? I’d die within a day.” You’re rubbing your eyes again, sighing. “I still don’t know why I even bothered coming here today, everything’s moving pretty slow,”

Nari’s deadpanning you, “Its 10am. And this restaurant is never quiet. And you’re also a responsible adult with bills to pay.”

“Or because someone called Nari guilt-tripped me into it.”

“That too,” she grins.

For a split second, things feel normal—just the usual banter between you and Nari. No online chaos, no invasive speculation. Just work. Just routine.

Then, of course, the moment doesn’t last.

Two customers approach the bar, and before you can ask what they’d like to order, one of them leans in a little too eagerly.

“Oh my god,” the girl whispers, eyes wide with excitement. “You’re that girl, aren’t you?”

You blink, already knowing where this is going. “…What?”

“You know,” she grins, as if she’s in on some big secret. “The one from Twitter! The one Jungkook was talking to! We came to the right place, Unni! Oh my god- you have to tell me where he sat, where did he sit?!”

They’re both squealing, looking around the restaurant. Your stomach sinks. And just like that, the peace is gone.

Nari’s rolling her eyes, and you simply reply. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“She’s totally lying! You’re pretty- i guess, seems like the type of girl he’d go for surely, you can tell us, we wont say anything.” They’re winking, as if you’d tell a stranger that you’re dating a major celebrity. Crazy fans! You cant help but clench your jaw, you take a glance down and you notice they’re sporting Jung-kook’s merch, photo cards, keychains, you name it. You make a mental note to not slip anything about him at all, as if theres any thing to slip anyway… right?

“Im not lying, he only came here to eat, thats it, im just doing my job.” You clearly sound annoyed, and it’s getting worse when you see they clearly cant take a fucking hint.

The second girl gasps, grabbing her friend’s arm. “She’s totally lying!”

The first one giggles. “Come on! Tell us! You’re telling me you actually got to interact with the Jeon Jungkook and you arent telling anyone? Did he say anything? Does he flirt in real life the way he does on camera? Oh my god- are you.. secretly dating?!”

Your jaw tightens, irritation bubbling up. It’s always the same thing—his looks, his charm, the way he flirts on camera. No one ever seems to care about anything beyond that. It’s like he isn’t a real person to them, just some fantasy they like to add shit onto.

And now, because you happened to cross paths with him, they’re dragging you into it too. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask to be some character in the story of Jeon Jungkook’s life.

Your fingers tighten around the rag in your hand. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your patience, but the way they’re both gawking at you like you’re some kind of rare exhibit is making your skin crawl.

“I was just doing my job. That’s it.”

“But-“

Nari’s had enough. She’s barging beside you, slightly nudging you to the side. “Seriously?! She she’s already said nothing happened, do you not have anything better to do?” One of the girl’s flinch at her raised voice slightly, “So if you’re not here to actually buy food and just here to harrass my friend, i suggest you leave before i call security.”

The first girl’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, while her friend looks absolutely scandalized.

“Harassing?! We weren’t harassing her!”

“Yeah, you kind of were,” Nari deadpans.

“Now, what’s it gonna be? Drinks, or are you leaving?”

A pause. Then, with a few grumbles under their breaths, the girls exchange one last look before turning on their heels and storming off.

Nari watches them go, rolling her eyes. “Fucking weirdos.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, slumping against the counter. “I seriously hate this.”

She clicks her tongue, patting your shoulder. “Yeah, well. Better get used to it.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“Tell that to Jungkook if he shows up again.”

Your heart stops, he wouldn’t… right? Not again. Unless he hasn’t seen the shambles on social media, which you highly doubt. Him coming here again is a recipe for destruction.

—

You spoke too soon once again.

You’re already having a bad day, but this? This honestly just makes everything worse.

Are you fucking serious?

You’re lowering your head slightly, glancing toward the entrance as Jungkook walks in—alone. Of course, he is. Because why wouldn’t he want make this even harder for you? It’s not enough that people have been whispering, not enough that eyes linger on you when they think you won’t notice. Now he’s here, and there’s nothing to remove the attention. No group of friends, no distraction, just him walking in alone so casually, like he owns the place, completely unaware of the storm you’re stuck in because of him.

You exhale sharply, gripping the menu a little too tight as he scans the restaurant. It’s almost a relief when he picks a booth in the back—almost. At least from there, you’ll have a good view of anyone sneaky enough to try taking pictures. But it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s here, and now you have to deal with it.

“Do you want me to go instead?” Nari asks under her breath, her voice low so only you can hear.

“No, I have to go talk to him.“ Shes giving you a smile and nod of encouragement, and you pick up a menu, smiling back and walking over to the booth.

By the time you reach him, your frustration is simmering just under your skin, and you don’t even bother hiding it. Instead of setting the menu down gently, you drop it onto the table with a sharp thwap. Jungkook flinches, looking up at you with wide eyes, clearly caught off guard. Your heart clenches at his big, huge doe eyes. Why does he have to be so… cute! Ugh!

You cross your arms, glaring at him.”Seriously?”

He blinks. “Uh… what?”

You scoff. “Why am I in the middle of this?” You gesture vaguely, but he knows exactly what you mean. The posts, the speculation, the hushed conversations happening the moment you turn your back. “I really don’t want to be a part of this.”

For a moment, Jungkook just watches you. Then he leans back slightly, draping an arm lazily over the back of the booth, like this is just another casual conversation. Like this is nothing to him. “It happens all the time,” he says, completely unfazed, and you couldn’t be more pissed off. “I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes. “Yeah, of course you’re just sorry, well guess what Jungkook, im not you, okay? I’m not used to this- I dont want to be in this”

You don’t mean to snap, but the words come out sharper than you intended. Something flickers in Jungkook’s expression. His confidence doesn’t disappear entirely, but he’s hesitating and biting his lip ring—just for a second. His gaze flickers across your face like he’s actually seeing you now, realizing this isn’t just some minor inconvenience for you. You don’t know what to make of that. It throws you off, just a little. But you hold your ground.

“Im sorry, I didn’t want this to happen- I know how it feels, and ill do what i can to get it under control.” He’s speaking softer, looking up at you before he gets distracted by something in the back.

Before either of you can say anything else, Nari arrives with utensils and plates , setting them down a little harder than necessary. You startle.

“Here you go.”

Jungkook barely acknowledges her, murmuring a quick, “Thank you,” before reaching for his utensils. The interaction is completely normal—just a regular customer getting his order—but you watch anyway, searching for something you can’t quite name.

You trail off after Nari, giving him a tight lipped smile, picking up the plates around the tables near him. Something distracts you- someone. He’s old, in a casual, but smart outfit. Walking up to Jungkook. The man himself seems quite annoyed, like he dosen’t want to be there. You figure he’s his manager.

You’re still watching when Jungkook’s manager walks in and slides into the seat across from him.

Immediately, the atmosphere changes.

“You seriously need to lay low,” his manager says in a hushed but firm voice.

Your grip tightens around the tray in your hands. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop, but you don’t have to. The tension is clear as day, thick enough to press against your chest. You don’t know why, but something about the conversation makes you uneasy.

Jungkook doesn’t say much—just nods along, eyes downcast as he eats. Whatever they’re talking about, it’s serious.

You decide it’s time for a toilet break.

—

As you step into the bathroom, the cool air and muffled hum of the restaurant give you a moment to breathe. Exhaling slowly, shaking your head to yourself. This entire night has been one giant headache, and you’re barely keeping up.

The door swings open behind you, and in the mirror’s reflection, you see Nari stepping in. Her eyes meet yours briefly before she heads to the sink, washing her hands with the same frustration you’re feeling.

“You okay?” she asks, glancing at you through the mirror.

You let out a dry laugh. “I was gonna ask you that first.”

Nari snorts, shaking her hands off before grabbing a tissue. “Yeah, well. I figured you might need to hear it first.” She tosses the towel in the bin and leans against the counter, taking out her lipgloss and applying some. “What the hell is going on out there?”

“Trust me, i wish i knew.” You groan, rubbing your temples.

Nari raises an eyebrow. “So, what? You two got some unfinished business or something? Cause it kinda looks like it.”

You shoot her a look. “No. Definitely not.”

She hums, unconvinced. “I dunno… that was a lot of tension back there. Thought you were about to start throwing hands or—”

“Nari.”

“Okay, okay.” Shes grinning, nudging your arm. “But really, are you okay? You looked ready to bite his head off.”

You sigh, leaning back against the counter next to her. “I just… I don’t like this attention. The stares. The way people assume things just because he walks in here.”

Nari nods, her expression softening. “Yeah. I feel you, especially those girls earlier, that already annoyed me, i couldn’t imagine being you right now.”

“Exactly.” You run a hand through your hair.

“And now, one of his managers is all over him about laying low, and I’m caught in the middle of it.”

Nari makes a disgusted noise. “Ugh. I hate that. Like, what are you supposed to do? Ban him from the restaurant?”

“Right?”

There’s a brief silence before Nari shifts, giving you a sly side-eye. “But… if we ignore the part where this is a disaster… he is kinda hot, right?”

You groan, shoving her shoulder. “Nari.”

She laughs, raising her hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying! If this was some corny romance film, you guys would so be two scenes away from a heated argument turning into—”

“Nope. Not happening.” You shake your head firmly, pushing off the counter.

“Mm-hmm.” Nari sing songs, but doesn’t push further. “Well, whatever’s going on, you’ll figure it out.” She gives your arm a light squeeze before heading for the door. “I’ll cover if you need a few more minutes.”

You smile, feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, Nari.”

She winks. “Anytime, Mrs Celebrity.”

You groan again as the door swings shut behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When that the calmness of the bathroom suddenly isnt so relaxing anymore, you make your way out, deciding that if you stay any longer, it may look like your actually hiding from him.

Stepping back out onto the floor, the buzz of the restaurant greets you again. You scan the room, gaze flickering toward Jungkook’s table. He’s still there, picking at his food and watching something on his phone but his manager is gone. For a second, you think he left completely—until you spot him at the bar, sitting stiffly, drumming his fingers against the counter like he’s waiting for something.

Or someone.

You sigh, steeling yourself, before walking over. “Can I get you anything?” you ask, keeping your tone neutral.

The manager barely glances at you before exhaling sharply through his nose, looking back to the side and it irks you. Pisses you off. “What you can do is tell me whats going on here. I’ve seen the posts, do you know who he is? Im sure you do, and you know the consequences of these things,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“Frankly, I dont care what you kids are doing, but you and him should not be doing this so confidently out in the open.” He scoffs under his breath, fixing his watch around on his wrist absentmindedly on the counter. “But whatever. You don’t seem like the type to listen.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

His gaze flicks to you properly now, sharp and assessing. “I’m saying,” he continues, lowering his voice, “I understand that you have your own life to live, but Jungkook isn’t just anyone. He’s got an entire career, a reputation, and people looking for any excuse to pick him apart. So, unless you want to become the next big scandal, I’d suggest you be a little more careful.”

You cross your arms. “First of all, I’m just doing my job and theres nothing going on between us,” Irritation is building up, you couldn’t be famous. If this is the tiny amount of control you’d have over yourself? You seriously wonder how celebrities can deal with it. “Secondly, Jungkook’s also a grown man, and you cant sit here and babysit him.”

He huffs a dry laugh. “Trust me, I know.” His fingers tap against the glass again, thoughtful. “That’s the problem.”

You narrow your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shakes his head, letting out another sigh before pushing back from the bar. “It means that he always gets what he wants,” he says, standing up. “That’s all.”

You stand there for a moment, still processing, before glancing over at Jungkook.

His manager is leaving when you turn back, why the fuck is everyone leaving you riddles to solve?!

—

Its a few minutes later when Jungkook’s at the bar, interrupting your zone out sesh, annoyingly enough, he has that same smirk on his face, and what looks to be the bill in his hand.

“Hey,” he interrupts smoothly, stepping between you and your thoughts, “I have to leave a little earlier tonight.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes and making sure what you next say comes off as a joke, “And why would I care?”

Jungkook hesitates just a little, then tilts his head slightly, flashing a quick, teasing smile. “Hm, not sure, you do seem kind of invested.”

You roll your eyes, biting down the urge to smile just to be difficult. “Yeah, in my paycheck. Which I better still have after all this.”

His lips twitch like he’s holding back a laugh. “Good to know where we stand.”

“You’re a customer, and I work here. That’s where we stand.” You remind him. And you don’t know who you’re trying to convince when you tell him.

“Mm.” He hums, expression faltering the slightest, but you dont miss it. He’s resting his elbows on the bar. “But I don’t see you talking to your other customers like this.”

You scoff, reaching for a glass just to have something to do. “That’s because they’re not you.”

His grin deepens. “Exactly.”

His manager’s coming back through the door, looking out of breath, seemingly in a rush and exhales sharply, clearly fed up. “Jungkook, we need to go. Look’s like someones seen you,”

You look outside, its not a crowd yet, but theres the same two girls standing outside, you make sure to put your head down, not making it too suspicious that you’re hiding but you seem to cover your face successfully behind the bar glasses and you are praying to the Gods that your face isn’t going to be plastered all over your timeline tonight.

Jungkook doesn’t move. He just stays there, watching you, like he’s waiting for you to say something first.

You meet his gaze, feeling that tension again—annoying, frustrating, but undeniably there.

After a long beat, you raise an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be laying low?”

Jungkook smirks. “I’m working on it.”

The manager mutters something under his breath and finally leaves the restaurant. Jungkook takes his time following, sliding a tip across the bar before turning toward the door.

And like last time, you wait until he’s gone before checking.

Scribbled next to his unnecessarily large tip, in his barely legible handwriting, is a number, and the same emoji he has tatted into his middle finger drawn terribly next to it.

You freeze.

Jungkook left you his number.

[t-u-i-t-c]

"I am mocking you."

[lemonberry-soda]

This might be one of those "putting too much thought into some basic blue curtains" situations, but I've been thinking about it a lot. Enjoy the following sleep-deprived ramble (and continuing ramble in the tags)

I feel like the line "and if I finally break the rules, I will know of my world, I'm the ruler" means so much. We only ever hear it twice ("cool as I think I am," and "dirty dudes must die"), even though the first part ("If I can finally be cool I will know that I'm not a loser") is played numerous times, and has a LOT of importance placed on it. Dirty Dudes is obvious by explaining how Grace is falling to what she would consider satanism in the name of God, but I personally see the first usage as kind of meta. Peter is singing the song about him and Stephanie, right? Well, in the other two Hatchetfield musicals, there are both couples that slowly fall in love over the course of the runtime. And you know what? They all die at the end. Hatchetfield dies at the end. It's because the Lords didn't know the main characters personally, or else weren't asked, and they were on the bad guy's side.

The Lords in Black are very much the bad guys. They feed from people's wants and their desperation to reach fulfillment (filling the holes), and actively cause destruction to cause more want and desperation. So "breaking the rules" by making them join the good guys side, just for once, causes the nerds to be known and protected so long as they pay the price. And they do. And that's why Nerdy Prudes has a good-ish ending. The second final song "The Best of You," as weird as it is, is entirely focused on Pete and Steph, who broke the rules by not dying, and became the "Rulers," homecoming king and queen, as a result (I know it wasn't explicitly stated they were king and queen but it wasn't a plot point at all so let me pretend lol).

So basically if Grace Chastity weren't there, they would have failed and Hatchetfield would have died again.

EDIT while listening to the music again I found another half-sung form of the lyric in "cool as I think I am (reprise)" that mashes the two verses together ("If I can finally break the rules, I will know that you have to do it"). This still goes with my thought process though since it's literally during the point where the normal rules of the couple dying are broken. They are literally breaking the rule where they had to sacrifice themselves. Thanks Max thanks Grace you saved the world from a disaster you caused <3

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Writing and posting Omri de Riva fic is going to be such a roulette on this Viago-loving website but it's a risk I'm willing to take

[tritoch]

the other thing I find very funny about trying to write a canon compliant wol is taking all the wolship hints extremely seriously.

I don't really wolship because I'm just fundamentally not that kind of fan. But I know for those who are, the sheer number of romance hints FFXIV throws at you can be overwhelming to parse in a context where you have a preferred/intended wolship, particularly if you're not attracted to the gender the hints are coming from in the first place (a particular tip of the hat to wlw fans navigating the g'raha of it all). I've seen plenty of people write around them or write them out or be like "no aymeric was for real inviting my wol to a nice platonic zero-subtext dinner," and God bless all of you.

But it's really funny to imagine them all as all-too-real but unreciprocated or perhaps unreciprocatable. The sheer scale of it is comedy. Spoilers for all of FFXIV follow.

Oh God, the Lord Speaker wants to have dinner, just the two of us, at his family estate and not a government building. I hope he doesn't bring up his crush on me. Thal's balls he's about to bring it up—oh thank God there's an emergency. Oh no someone got hurt! Oh no it's the teenage girl with a crush on me.

Your life is a cosmic joke. You watch the Sultana get poisoned and all your friends probably die to save your life and it's kind of all your fault in some ways, I mean at the very least you should've spoken up when they gave the teenager a private army, and then the teenage boy speaks up and is like, "hey, I guess we have at least one ally. What about if we go visit that guy who is really obviously down unbelievably bad for you and wants to lick the sweat off of you." and you have to be like, yeah, Alphinaud. Great idea. Let's do it. I'll call him.

(brief interlude: also haurchefant's DEATH hits so good if you don't reciprocate. It's okay. He gets it. You're going through a lot and even if you had time to sort through your feelings maybe you're just not into him. That would be okay! You can love someone, or the idea of someone, without needing it to be romantically reciprocated. That's chivalric, even. Knightly. So he won't ask you to lie to him and say you love him as he lies dying in your arms. He's not so low as all that. But could you smile for him as you used to? That true hero's smile of yours. And you do, and he dies. And you both know he died for a lie, in a way, or a flight of fancy. And he's okay with that. Are you? Should you be? Should he?)

Then you're into Stormblood and it's like wow, okay. That last part was all high fantasy, of course there were loyal knights and elegant princes. But this is war. Imperialism. Grim business, surely there's no way—oh no BOTH handsome young revolutionary leaders seem to have a special interest in you?! And so does the Crown Prince of the Empire? Come on, man. I should get to do the whole horrors of war thing without having to also deal with this. Gaius sucked and it was weird that he let his foster daughter run around being openly obsessed with him but at least he never made it my problem.

You can't even get away from it across dimensions. Shadowbringers is a horror story about going on a teambuilding camping trip with your work colleagues for some reason except they all suddenly got really hot and they keep touching you affectionately on the shoulder and being like "I care for you and your happiness. Truly." And also you're being stalked for the whole camping trip by two old men who are obsessed with you. The false climax of the story is that the one old man tries to betray you and give a dramatic monologue about how he loves you but the two of you are doomed by the narrative and then the other old man shoots him in the back like "no actually its MY turn to betray them and give a dramatic monologue about how our love is doomed by the narrative." Then the real climax is old man #1 backstabbing old man #2 in the middle of said monologue before old man #2 dies and gives ANOTHER wistful monologue about his doomed love. Then for the patches they're like okay so we have this even CRAZIER old man who's gonna strike when you're weak and give a dramatic monolo—

and that's without even getting into the literal soulmate ghost only you can see

my warrior of light never felt more betrayed than in that scene where Y'shtola is like "haha Alisaie and G'raha have crushes on the warrior of light." Like I thought we were COOL, Y'shtola! I work here! This situation is already in such a delicate balance! Right when I got here I met Alisaie's "friend from work" who was like oh haha so YOU'RE the one she can't stop talking about and we never followed up on that because the woman died horrifically like five minutes later right in front of us! Then when Vauthry got away and we had to do all that shit with the dwarves, G'raha kept pausing every ten minutes to be like oooooh I'm so old I'm gonna die soon...at least I got to spend some time with some people who are really important to me...in fact here's what I'd tell the person who's most important to me...actually u know them really well haha. And I just had to sit there and be like wow, dude, crazy.

even in the face of apocalypse you still gotta go back in time like 12,000 years and there's somewhere there who makes you sit and listen to his story which is that the purpose of his whole godlike immortal life was to be in a throuple with you and old man #2 from the camping trip. and you just gotta sit there the whole time knowing you/your past life is the one who broke up the throuple over politics. He's like come help me harangue the old man into streaking in public, he'll do it if you ask.

then you meet and fight and kill God and you gotta turn to the team and be like hey sorry guys can you give me a sec. I'm gonna call God by her real name because we met one time for like four days and after that the promise of meeting me again was one of the things that sustained her through her millennia of suffering. Not like that but like. Idk. Just gimme a sec!

It's a relief when you finally get to Lahabrea and he's like actually I still don't fuck with your vibe. Like thank GOD.

And my WoL is very obviously dad-shaped so Dawntrail had a very specific energy for me but I understand that for plenty of people your deepening rapport with Wuk Lamat had a romantic subtext (same for Koana depending on how you read a few of his lines). And personally I think it's the height of comedy to be like, noooo, babe, your highness, I know you and your brother the king are in love with me and want me to stick around and support you emotionally through this governmental transition haha. But it's just...the cursed wineglass, babe. I GOTTA go figure out what's up with this cursed wineglass.

It's a running gag in some of the more optional content that people are like "you have an unreasonable number of hobbies and side gigs" to the WoL from time to time. But if every time you tried picking up a new hobby some new elf started baring their soul to you, you too would be like Hey Jessie (or sometimes Krile or Tataru), my good friend who is one of the only people in my life who knows what professional ethics and work-life boundaries are, any chance you need muscle on a gig on the other side of the world? Ideally with only Cid and his ex so all libidinal energy in the room is directed towards machinery or someone who isn't me?

ironically one of the only places you get a break from psychosexual obsession is the nier content

[oceanicwriting]

my shirt.

summary: you and theodore have been dating for a few weeks now. one afternoon, he walks into your room without knocking, finding your body stretched out on the bed. what's so bad? you're only wearing his t-shirt and black underwear.

pairing(s): theodore nott x fem!reader

a/n: i was working on something a little more fun (theodore nott x vampire is coming), but it's taking me a little longer to write, so i brought something shorter for now. enjoy!

+18 smut, cowgirl, praising, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤ your body feels heavy, dragging your feet around the room as you lazily take off your uniform. you're not careful where the clothes fall, but that herbology exam had consumed any trace of energy left inside your body, and you just wanted to take the longest nap ever.

ㅤㅤㅤ you search for some pajamas in the dresser, but you can't find any clean ones. then, you spot the shirt theodore had forgotten the last time he slept with you. when you take it in your hands you can smell the soft notes of his cologne and decide to put it on to lie down in bed with your walkman headphones playing the music tape your boyfriend had given you.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore, on the other hand, was on his way to your room after finishing his quidditch training. he really wanted to see you because he knew how exhausting your last herbology exam had been. when he gets to your door, he makes a move to knock. however, he stops suddenly, thinking... after being in your bedroom so many times, would he still knock on the door? and maybe just for that one time, he should have knocked.

ㅤㅤㅤ you're lying on the bed wearing one of his t-shirts and black panties with a thin line of lace embracing your butt. even though he had seen you in skimpy clothes more than once, he had never seen you wearing one of his clothes and, for some reason, his body reacts to the attraction of your figure like never before.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore leaves his bag next to the door, approaching you with stealthy steps. when he notices that you have the walkman headphones on, he carefully takes them off and gently moves your body to wake you up. it wasn't difficult because you're not a deep sleeper.

ㅤㅤㅤ —theo —you greet with a sleepy voice—. what are you doing here?

ㅤㅤㅤ he smiles, making your heart race at the tender gesture.

ㅤㅤㅤ —just checking on you. —theodore makes room on the bed, hugging you and kissing your face carelessly—. so?

ㅤㅤㅤ —it was exhausting, —you say, playing with his hair as his kisses move down your neck, making you laugh between your words—. you’re a little more affectionate today, aren’t you?

ㅤㅤㅤ you can hear the small growl that leaves his lips, feeling his hands move down to your waist.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what’s wrong?

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore pulls out from the crook of your neck, showing off his disheveled hair and pleading gaze. you can’t help but smile at the way his hands tangle in his shirt, pulling you until you crash against his pelvis and feel the hardness of his crotch.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you’re wearing my shirt. —you nod slowly, rubbing yourself against him—. and it looks so fucking cute on you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you think so? —you whisper against his lips—. or are you biased by something else?

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore laughs.

ㅤㅤㅤ —biased by your beauty. nothing more.

ㅤㅤㅤ you hug his neck, pulling him towards your face to kiss him softly. the movement of his mouth against yours is as calm as you had expected, slowly deepening the feeling of butterflies exploding in your stomach at the simple contact. your entire body itches at the way his hands press on your waist, demanding and strong.

ㅤㅤㅤ then, straddling one leg over him, you turn to straddle his bulge. theodore cups your cheek with one of his hands, preventing you from pulling away when he intensifies the kiss with the intrusion of his tongue. your hips, on the other hand, begin to move against him.

ㅤㅤㅤ there’s a wave of soft moans and gasps colliding every time you part to catch your breath. theodore pulls off his shirt shortly after he sits you on top of him, breaking the kiss with ragged breaths. he moves his hands up from your waist to the softness of your breasts, squeezing and playing with your hardened nipples.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i think if you wore my shirts more often i’d lose my mind, —he whispers, as you moan at the feeling of his cold rings hitting your skin—. my girl.

ㅤㅤㅤ you make a move to take off the garment, but he stops you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i want to fuck you with this on.

ㅤㅤㅤ the simple comment sends a heat to your wet core, and you unbutton theodore's pants to free his erect member.

ㅤㅤㅤ —come here, —he says, lifting his hand for you to lick two of his fingers—. come on.

ㅤㅤㅤ you shake your head, settling yourself on his lap and grabbing his cock to guide it to your entrance. theodore is perplexed for a moment but helps you by holding your panties to the side of your entrance, where you begin to take the length of his member between soft moans.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i just want you inside me, theo.

ㅤㅤㅤ he holds your body to help you carefully take the last bit of his member, gasping at the tight feeling of your hole and losing his mind at the way your weight presses against him. his hands travel over your body, which is adjusting to his size for a while, sending thousands of electrical signals to your brain.

ㅤㅤㅤ after a while you start to move in slow circles, going up and down little by little with the help of your legs and theodore's hands, who grunts every now and then at the feeling of your panties scraping his member already soaked with your liquids.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you're doing well, baby. —one of his hands travels to your ass, squeezing it and helping you keep a rhythm that manages to stir every part of your interior—. you're doing it perfectly.

ㅤㅤㅤ the feeling of theodore filling your insides feels like touching heaven itself. it's one where all the vibrant colors dye green and happy meadows, so happy that it's impossible not to want to stay there forever.

ㅤㅤㅤ from one moment to the next, your ups and downs become faster, always being held by the strength of your boyfriend who looks at you in ecstasy between his darkened eyes. the sound of your ass crashing against his pelvis was so delicious that you couldn't stop now that you heard it louder, feeling his cock sink deeper into you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —good. just like that, —theodore says, approving the way your body shudders even more on the length of his member—. you are doing it so well.

ㅤㅤㅤ your hands must rest on his chest from the increase in speed. suddenly, theodore’s free hand grabs the bottom of your shirt to bring it to your mouth. you look at him in confusion.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i just wanna see your breasts bounce, —he says, making you giggle and agree to take the bottom of the garment between your teeth, revealing the way your breasts move with you—. shit, you’re so cute.

ㅤㅤㅤ your movements haven’t slowed down, and theodore begins to pound upwards, drawing gasps from you that flush your cheeks in embarrassment. the sensation now begins to touch every part of your body, increasing a flame of pleasure that begins to burn everywhere.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore brings his own thumb to his mouth, licking it and directing it to your clit, applying pressure and massaging quickly. you scream against your closed mouth, moaning and sighing at the wave of emotions traveling from your pussy.

ㅤㅤㅤ you could feel it, seven strokes later, his cock twitching inside you at the imminent threat of cumming. your body was close too, clenching your muscles and gasping for air. theodore hasn’t stopped stimulating your clit, while his hips meet your movement to deepen your sounds.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so perfect, love. just a little more. just give me a little more...

ㅤㅤㅤ —t-theo, i need you to kiss me —you say, letting the shirt fall from your mouth.

ㅤㅤㅤ you don’t know how, but theodore manages to sit up while he continues to help you with the thrusts and stimulates your clit, kissing you with difficulty at the lack of stillness. the kiss is what was missing so you could feel the sensations of your body reaching their point, shaking against his cock and clenching it as you feel his hot liquid fill you completely. you were done together.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i love when you do that, —he says, kissing your face as you catch your breath—. cumming in the middle of a kiss.

ㅤㅤㅤ his mouth leaves a soft peak that makes you laugh.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i just really love your kisses.

ㅤㅤㅤ he smiles, cleaning everything up with his shirt thrown on the floor.

ㅤㅤㅤ —will you stay with me? —you ask, letting yourself fall onto the bed as theodore leaves his shirt in the laundry. a shirt that would soon stay with you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —of course, do you think i would miss the opportunity to sleep with you in those pajamas? never.

ㅤㅤㅤ he throws himself next to you on the bed, pressing you against his chest as he forces you to tell in great detail the herbology exam, listening attentively and leaving soft kisses every now and then. that was the life you wanted to have forever.

[paarksunghoon]

can you write something with soft dom bestfriend!jake eating out inexperienced!shy!reader after he finds out she’s never done stuff like that before (with lots of praise plz) tyyy

I shied away from the suuuper innocent/shy trope but kept some elements in there

***

“No one’s ever eaten you out before?”

“Jake!”

He throws his hands up like he’s asking an innocent questions. “Hey, I’m not judging you for it! It’s just that…you’ve hooked you with a few people, haven’t you?” Jake watches you hug one of your plushies against your chest.

“Once.” Your cheeks feel warm and you resist the urge to hide your face behind the soft object. “I don’t do it often. You know that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with not hooking up. What happened?”

You can’t meet your best friend’s eye. “He just…finished too soon and didn’t do anything else.”

“That’s deplorable.”

“Tell me about it.”

“He didn’t want to taste you?”

You sigh and lie back down on your mattress, shutting your eyes while keeping the plushie between your arms and pinned against your chest. Jake looks at you and sees your feet planted on the bed as you keep your knees bent. The sleep shorts you’re wearing aren’t nothing new. He’s seen you wear it plenty of times but tonight, it feels a little bit different.

You, on the other hand, don’t feel Jake’s wandering eyes. You’re too mortified talking about this kind of stuff because your best friend is far more experienced with sex than you are. He’s athletic, attractive, and someone who jumped at the chance to sleep around once he started university. You wouldn’t consider yourself someone people naturally gravitate towards and despite knowing Jake since the beginning of middle school, sex is the one topic you struggle to talk about with him.

But Jake, the ever persistent best friend who just wants the best for you, won’t let it go. He rarely pries into your sex life and if you’re talking to anybody because he’s typically the one who’s preoccupied with hookups or casual flings.

It’s currently the peak of spring and it’s starting to get warmer outside. One of your windows is cracked open and amidst your inner turmoil, you hear the crickets chirping outside. You don’t see Jake’s eyes glance over your bare legs and how he gulps when his gaze reaches the shirt you’re wearing that’s riding up to show a small portion of your stomach.

“Not all of us have a lot of experience, okay?!”

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with me.”

“No,” Jake says, pulling the plushy from your arms and throwing it beside him, “but I know you better than you know yourself. I know you compare how many people you’ve slept with to me.”

You evert his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping around.” Your best friend laughs.

“I know. It doesn’t make me happy anymore but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to have sex, Y/N.”

You huff and pull yourself up on your elbows to look at Jake. His annoyingly boyish charms and freshly dyed, dark brown hair make him look like a supermodel underneath your ambient lighting. The room is dimly lit with hues of pink and yellow, and you don’t know if Jake’s looking extra delectable because of the light or because you’ve started to look at him differently.

“Easy for you to say. People want to have sex with you.”

Jake bites back a retort. “I bet people want to have sex with you too.” You roll your eyes.

“If I were a guy, I’ll bet I could stare at a girl and know I’d be getting some.” You hear him laugh but that does nothing to quell your embarrassment. Jake sits up and scoots closer until he’s looking down at you.

“What is it that you really want?”

“Jaeyun.”

“I dunno, maybe if you say it then you’ll manifest it, or some shit.” Jake doesn’t know why but he likes that you can’t make eye contact with him.

“I…”

You finally look at him. He tilts his head and nods once. “Go on.”

“I just…I want someone to make me feel good, okay?”

“That can’t be all you want. There’s gotta be something more.”

“I want a guy to eat me out. Happy?” It’s embarrassing to say out loud. Jake grins.

“Very. Now you’re manifesting this into reality.”

“You’re really weird, Jake.” He laughs.

“So you tell me.” He brings his finger up to your bare knee and traces a random pattern that makes you feel tingly. It’s a new feeling around your best friend and you look at him curiously.

“More guys should eat girls out,” he says, cutting the silence abruptly. “Guys say they’re good at fucking but they never get anyone off.”

You groan. “Everybody sucks. It seems like no guy likes to go down on a girl, or whatever.”

“Some do.”

“You mean to tell me there are some guys who actually like eating a girl out?”

“Yes.” Jake looks down at you and holds your eye. He doesn’t move and you watch as his fingers start to grip the comforter. You speak after a long pause. He doesn’t break eye contact.

“A-Are you saying you like to do that?”

He doesn’t let up the eye contact. “I love it. Could do it forever.”

You gulp. “R-Really?”

Jake nods. “Yeah.”

“What do you like about it?” Your voice, ever so timid and testing the waters, makes him excited.

He licks his lips. “I like the taste the most. Always so nice and wet. Sweet, almost. I like the way it feels too. Makes me think I’m about to die.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?”

“No. I’d be happy if eating pussy was the last thing I did.”

The look he gives you is unlike anything you’ve ever seen from him before. His mouth twitches while he sits in front of you and you’re beside yourself when you rub your legs together. Jake doesn’t make a move to touch you but his steady gaze makes you squirm.

“Are you…offering?”

Jake chuckles. “Would it be bad if I was?” Not really.

“Honestly? Not really…”

“Let me take your shorts off, mkay?”

Jake hooks his fingers around your flimsy sleep shorts and pulls them down slowly as you feel the fabric glide against your inner thighs. The cool air provides an electric shock to your mound and you realize then just how wet you’ve become.

Your best friend opens up your legs to little resistance and finds you too cute when you bunch up your pillows to rest your back against it. He toys with you for a moment, using his thumb to gently brush over your slit while grunting at how wet your panties have become. Jake pulls them aside and is met by the place you need him the most.

“Do you want me to eat your pussy, baby?”

“Yes,” you moan, feeling his warm breath over your wet folds.

Jake doesn’t answer you. Instead, he pushes his head down and spreads his tongue all over you and moans at the first taste. You’re so warm and tense underneath his touch and his hands come to your thighs to keep them pried open but at the same time, Jake rubs his palm all over your skin to soothe your rigidness.

His hands support your legs too, forcing them open when you start to close in. It feels like he’s spreading you apart across the board and looking down at him makes your heart beat even faster. Jake looks so lost in his own pleasure while making you feel good too. His eyes are closed and his lashes kiss his cheeks in a way that makes him look heaven sent.

His tongue feels amazing and this sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. The wet slurping and constant pressure feels like you’re about to burst into a million pieces at any moment and you’re sure you’d become addicted to this if every guy made you feel the way your best friend does.

It should feel weird to have him touching you like this. You’ve only thought about him in the bedroom a handful of times before shaming away these feelings towards your best friend but looking down at him with his eyes closed and tongue pressed so deep inside of you makes your legs shake and toes curl.

You come without a warning and Jake encourages your loud string of moans when he licks you clean, lapping your wetness up like a dog drinking water. Jake’s face is so messy and so wet with your sheen and his spit before he wipes himself with the back of his hand.

He looks up at you before you can get a word out. “Let me do that again.”

[natlovesls2]

Never Really Over

Lando Norris x Sainz! Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+ MDNI, one bed trope/ forced proximity but barely, slight fake dating, alcohol mentioned/ used, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, small amounts of angst, minimal swearing, talks of marriage and children, please let me know if I missed any

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 3.8k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You and Lando had broken up though decided it was best that no one knew. Max and Kelly's wedding forces you to come together, making it hard to disguise your true feelings. What can possibly go wrong?

.ೃ࿐request: found here

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

It was difficult being an open book while simultaneously attempting to hide your break up from not only your brother, but anyone who had been invested in seeing the relationship prosper. More often than not you found yourself having to make up answers to questions pertaining to the subject or switch the topic all together. And even if the news of the breakup did somehow come out, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the situation that led to it. The memories of that night were hazy to say the least. 

You could faintly remember the fuzzy feeling of alcohol and the buzz of music around you that night. There was no doubt that you had been out at some party or club, as you often found yourself at one. Though everything beyond that felt like a badly painted watercolor portrait; the colors, or events in this case, bleeding together into a cruel image of that night. 

“What are you saying?” he asked, voice cracking as he searched your face for an answer. The words coming from your mouth slurred but determined. 

“I’m not an idiot, Lando. What else would you be doing when you go out to celebrate your wins for races I didn't attend?”

“You think I’m cheating on you? This is what this whole thing is about?” his voice raised with slight anger. 

“Yeah,” you raised your voice back at him. You wanted to blame the sudden burst of jealousy completely on the alcohol, but you knew that would be a lie, there had always been an insecure pit in your stomach that had only been growing since you began dating. “You’re an attractive, famous athlete. It would be weird if you weren’t.”

“What's the point of being in a relationship if you can’t trust me?”

“The door is wide open, Lando. No one is holding you here by force,” you hadn’t meant those words, but they couldn’t be taken back. 

“Is that what you want? You want to break up?” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone answer his question. “Fine,” he whispered, running a hand over his face, pacing around the hotel room, “Alright.”

The only memory that seemed to feel concrete and not muddled by all the drinks of the night prior, was the moment you woke up the following day. The sloppily written note on a receipt from some club letting you know that he had left per your request. And even though he didn’t explicitly say things were over, it wasn’t difficult to understand what the note was implying. Beside the fact that you two no longer interacted as a couple, everything else seemed normal, especially to those who didn’t pry beyond surface level. It was for good reason that you two did this; Carlos would have taken your side regardless of the situation, and you didn’t want to be the root cause of a possible falling out. Maybe that's why you didn’t blame Max and Kelly when they told you that you would be sharing a room with Lando for their wedding. 

You had somehow arrived before Lando, taking that time to unpack and mentally prepare to be in such an intimate space with him after such a long time apart. Things were definitely going to be awkward; you were certain you would have to tell everyone the truth about the status of your relationship. It was becoming increasingly clear to you that lying to everyone hadn’t been the best idea. But telling the truth now, when it had been months of lying, was certain to dampen the vibe of the next few days and put a rift between everyone involved. So as Lando walked into the room you couldn't stop yourself from blurting out your disapproval. 

“We can’t possibly tell them the truth– it would ruin everything, and I refuse to ruin Max and Kelly’s wedding week.” 

He stared blankly at you, shutting the door and placing his suitcase beside it, “Jesus, could you give a man a few seconds. I’ve just barely walked through the door.” You ran a nervous hand through your hair, pacing across the expanse of the room. How could he look so calm about this, you envied how well he played things off. No matter how much things truly affected him, he always had to have an obnoxious nonchalant air to him. “You’re making me dizzy,” he let out a slight chuckle that made your eye twitch.

“I’m sorry for being the only one concerned over this, Lando.” 

“More like paranoid. Relax, there's nothing to be concerned about,” he said with a light shrug, throwing himself onto the only bed. It stuck out like a sore thumb, a reminder of how difficult it would be to ignore him over the next couple of days. 

“What are we going to do about that?” you asked, nodding towards the bed a tense expression plastered on your usually calm face. 

“We’re adults, sharing a bed isn’t a big deal, right?”

“Not a big deal at all,” you agreed, letting out a shaky breath attempting to calm your nerves. He nodded, giving you an awkward smile– the only sign of the emotions he was hiding behind his mask. For a moment you were sure he was just as concerned as you were, if not more.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

Rehearsal dinners, a momentous event for any wedding. Sure, the actual wedding ceremony and reception are consequential, but the rehearsal dinner sets the tone for those two. Landos presence alone hand you high strung, now add the high stake of this fake commitment you both had. The clamminess of your hands increased tenfold as you sat beside him, occasionally giving a small smile as Lando conversed with those around you. The conversations around you seemed to fade as you focused on the napkin in front of you. Its stark whiteness against the deep colors of the tableware around it making it stand out. It almost felt like the napkin was taunting you, as if saying, “You’re not fooling anyone, you two stand out as much as I do in this sea of real couples.”

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks you from across the table, face etched into a mix of concern and suspicion. Your silence throughout this whole ordeal becoming a clear indicator that something was wrong. 

“Hm?”

“I asked if you're okay,” he repeated, eyes glancing between you and Lando. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded with a shaky smile. 

Carlos' eyes narrowed at you, clearly not buying your answer, he seemed to want to say more but hesitated. Lando quickly intercepted the conversation moving on to a topic he could easily control. 

“How much do you want to bet that Max will cry tomorrow?” Lando asked, a playful smirk making its way onto his face, “I say he starts crying as soon as he gets ready for the ceremony.” 

“I bet you’ll cry more at your wedding,” Carlos says smiling at you and Lando, it's clear he's fond of the idea of a wedding between his sister and close friend. 

“Yeah, probably, but we have a few more years until we even start worrying about that,” Lando placed a hand behind your chair, his fingers gently grazing the exposed skin of your back. 

“You didn’t deny the idea of a wedding, does that mean you plan to marry my sister?”

“Let's slow down, mate. I'm not going to deny or admit anything,” Lando let out a laugh, tracing soft shapes onto your shoulder. For once his words and actions didn’t feel forced, as if this were second nature to him. It was almost impossible to tell if he was being truthful in his response or if it was all part of the act. You stared at the half empty glass of wine in front of you, hands moving on their own accord to bring the glass to your lips allowing you to nearly down it all in one go. You were going to need a lot more to drink if you were going to sell the act.

Maybe you had underestimated how much you had to drink or perhaps everything was becoming too hard to control. You felt Landos arm wrap around your waist as he guided you back to your shared room, whispering about something you had done though you didn’t catch what he said and you could hardly remember the rest of the dinner. 

“You’re a lightweight,” Lando sighed as he sat you at the edge of the bed, kneeling down to unstrap your heels. His touch against your bare ankle felt nothing short of electric, something so intense and mind numbing. 

“I’ve missed you,” you drunkenly admit, running your foot against his chest. 

His grip on your ankle tightens in an attempt to hinder your movement, “hm,” he hums out as a response, impulsively lifting your leg up to press a small kiss to the inside of your ankle. The familiar pressure of his lips against your skin erupts your skin in goosebumps. 

“We’re more in love than ever before,” you say, giving Lando one of the most sincere smiles he's seen from you in a while, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as you talked to Kelly, “Right, Lando?”

“Absolutely madly in love,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He hadn't expected you to move and plant your lips against his in a sloppy drunk kiss, drawing laughs from those around you. 

His lips continue to travel up your calf, his eyes trained on your face to catch any glimpse of change in your expression. He pushes you down against the bed, hovering over you, “You’re drunk,” he lets out a sigh, resting his head in the crook of our neck. 

“And?”

“We shouldn’t do this while you're drunk– I refuse to do this while you're drunk,” Lando whispers, unsure if he's trying to convince you or himself, “I don’t want you to regret this when you're sober, and it's just wrong.”

You grab his face, pulling him away from his hiding spot in your neck. You stare at him for a while before bringing his face closer to your own, gently meeting your lips in a surprisingly fluid kiss. 

Lando quickly pulls away, standing from his spot on top of you, “No, not while you’re… like that,” he rubs a hand on his face, gesturing frustratedly at you. He grabs a pillow and a sheet from the bed, laying on the decently sized couch in the room deciding it would be better to sleep away from you– considering the state you were in. 

The blinding light coming from the window awoke you the following morning, your pulsating headache the only reminder of the night before. Lando was already awake, still laying on the couch typing away on his phone. He seemed to feel your gaze on him, “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up to get a better look at you, his voice filled with slight concern.

“I’ve felt better, can’t remember shit,” you admit, placing a hand on your forehead as if it would do anything to calm the pulsing headache. 

“That's probably for the better,” he stares at you longingly, it's clear that he does remember whatever happened at the rehearsal dinner and your shared room, “we should begin getting ready, we can’t be late to Max and Kellys big day.” You wanted to press him for answers, force him to reveal the source of his distant attitude, but decided against it. Things couldn’t get more tense between you, especially not tonight.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, Max had indeed cried almost as soon as Kelly began to make her way towards him. And even now as they sat together at the wedding reception you could catch the hint of a happy tear poke its way out of his eyes. 

You felt Landos hand slip around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. He had remained by your side since the wedding ceremony, refusing to leave you for even a second. His actions felt less forced than they had previously felt. And as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear bits and pieces of the day prior began to escape the floodgates of your mind. 

You let out a small giggle as Lando whispered into your ear, “stop it, you’re not acting like yourself. They’ll catch on,” his breath tickling you. 

“I just love you so much,” you whispered back, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, giggling to yourself like a child. You’d never been big on PDA but in your drunken state you couldn’t seem to keep your hands and lips off of Lando. 

“You too are adorable, as in love as when you first started dating– perhaps even more in love,” Alexandra said from beside Charles, smiling between you and Lando. 

“Our love has definitely grown. We’re going to get married and have kids,” you leaned into Landos touch, your smile widening at Alexandra's words. 

“Okay, you've had way too much to drink– I think it's time to go to bed. We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Lando announced to the table, shaking his head with a nervous laugh. 

“Oh we’re sure you're gonna go to bed,” Daniel teased, causing the table to erupt in laughter.

“Hey, you okay?” Lando asked, concern written all over his face, his eyes dancing across your face. 

“Yeah.”

“You spaced out, didn’t even react to what I said.”

“What did you say?” you asked, finally snapping out of the memory of the night prior. 

He stared at you, his face still overtaken with concern, “I said, we sold the lie pretty good…” he whispered. If you didn’t know better you'd think he was upset, upset that it was all a show. For a moment he frowned, quickly smiling again, “Lets go dance,” he grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dance floor. 

Lando placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, moving you both to the rhythm of the song. He smiled tenderly at you, and everything began to blur into a confusing mess. You weren’t sure what was real and what was a lie fabricated to convince everyone that you were still madly in love. He played the role of loving boyfriend so well that you were beginning to fall for the charade too, you were starting to believe that he still loved you and had never stopped. 

Your head found its way to his chest, resting there as if it were its official home. The both of you continued to silently sway to the music. The world around you seemed to disappear, almost as if you were the only ones that mattered at that moment. It was confusing how you felt so connected to him yet so far.

 Lando rested his shin atop your head for a moment. He straightened out his back, bringing your dancing to a halt, hand reaching to grasp your chin so that you were staring at him. “Please tell me you’re not faking it,” he whispered, his eyes desperately searching yours, “tell you still love me. That you’ve meant every fleeting touch, every stolen glance, every kiss you’ve given me this weekend… please.”

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or his words that made the room around you spin, forcing you to grasp onto the jacket of his suit to stabilize yourself. The music you were dancing to just a moment ago now a murmured buzz in your ear. You wanted to be truthful, to admit that you had never stopped loving him and possibly never would. The look of desperation on his face urging you to confess your soul to him. “Of course I love you” you finally said aloud for the first time in months, relief instantly flooding his face. 

Lando cupped your cheek, gently caressing it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Neither of you had been faking anything, that much was clear as his lips found their place on top of your own. It was gentle, not rushed but relaxed, as if you had until the end of times to relish in each other's presence. He pulled away after a while, letting your lips hover– barely touching, breathing in each other's shaky breaths. “Do you think they’d notice if we left?” he asked, looking around the reception.

“No, everyone is focused on Max and Kelly.”

“Good,” he said, slightly out of breath as he led you towards the exit. You silently thanked Max and Kelly for choosing to have their wedding close to where you were all staying. 

It didn't take you long to get back to your room, instantly finding each other in a heated kiss. Bodies pressing against one another as you desperately tried to get closer, almost as if you wanted to become one. 

“Take this off,” Lando mumbled against your neck as he pulled at the zipper of your dress in a pitiful attempt to help you get undressed. You let the fabric pool on the floor, kicking off your heels, leaving you exposed to his hunger filled eyes. 

“It's not fair that I’m completely naked you’re not,” you complained as he guided you towards the bed, gently pushing you onto it when the back of your knees hit the edge. 

He tossed his suit jacket aside, his fingers attempting to quickly and smoothly unbutton his shirt, “better?” he asked as he was left shirtless. 

You sat up for a moment, your hands working to rid him of his trousers, smiling and resting back on the bed when you finally succeeded, “Much better.”

Lando pressed himself against you, placing kisses down your neck, “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, your hands tangling themselves into his hair as you pulled him up for a kiss. It was much more rushed than the previous kisses had been, his teeth clashing against your own, your tongues pressing against one another. His hands ran up and down the expanse of your body before finding their new home atop your breasts, each one kneading at them. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand down towards your pussy, gasping at his thumb rubbed against your clit. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you out of breath, kissing down your body. "Please,” you whispered as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your thighs. Running his tongue up your slit, wrapping his lips on to your sensitive nub. Lando continued to switch between lapping at your cunt and sucking at your clit– teasing your entrance with his middle finger, slowly pushing it in. Encouraged by your moans and the wet squelching sound coming from between your thighs, he sped up his actions, swallowing at you like a starved man. You pushed against his head, back arching off the bed as your first orgasm of the night washed over you. 

Lando pulled away, smiling up at you, “still know how to get you off,” he said smugly, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you urged him, pulling him back up, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“But teasing you is so fun.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around him, quickly switching your position so that you were on top of him. “Don’t make me regret this,” you spat on your hand, taking his hard cock in your hand giving it a teasing jerk. 

“Please don’t” he grunted, your finger running against his slit. Your brows drawn together in concentration as you lined him up to your entrance, letting out a shaky breath as sank down onto him. You took a moment to adjust to having him inside you, resting your hand against his chest to steady yourself as you lifted your hips and brought them back down. You let out a shaky breath as you began to ride him, guiding his hands up to your breasts and they bounced with your movement. You had forgotten how full it felt to have him within you– clenching around his cock as he sucked at one of your breasts, rolling the other nipple between his fingers. 

Your pace faltered as you lost yourself in the pleasure, letting out loud gasps as Lando began to thrust up to meet your movements. He wrapped his hand around your hips, bringing them down harder to meet his thrusts. Landos pace increased as your nails dug into his chest, rhythm becoming sloppy as he felt his orgasm approach. “I should probably pull out,” he rasped but made no attempt to do so. 

“It's okay, I'm on birth control,” you breathed out. 

“Shit,” he stilled your movements, spilling inside of you, his fingers finding their way back to your clit in an attempt to pull another orgasm from you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck as you came for a second time. The room around you spinning slightly as you attempted to catch your breath. 

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” he asked breathlessly, voice still shaky. 

“Definitely.”

“Should we go back?”

“No,” you respond, lifting yourself off of Lando to lay beside him. You had no desire to redress and mingle at the reception after what had happened. You couldn't trust your feet to carry you for the rest of the night, especially when you still felt the dizzying effects of sex.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

They had noticed your absence, and they teased you relentlessly about it the few days after the wedding. You had reconciled with Lando, your relationship going back to the way it was before the stupid argument. And with that reconciliation came the confession, in which you confessed to everyone that you had briefly broken up. Although the break up had been entirely your fault, upon hearing the confession Carlos glared at Lando– muttering not so empty threats to him about not hurting you. You were certain he would have strangled Lando if you hadn’t reconciled. 

You smiled up at Lando as you lounged in the living room, resting your head back onto his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on the stop of your head, wrapping his arms around you. This had been your reality since Max and Kellys wedding, pure bliss. You couldn’t experience and explore for one another every waking moment. 

“I could stay like this forever,” Lando whispered into your hair, his grip around you tightening as if he were scared to lose you again. Or as if he thought this were a dream and you'd vanish at any moment with the simple sound of an alarm. But you were real and you weren’t going to lose one another again, you wouldn't allow that. 

“Me too,” you whispered back, “I love you.”

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: feel free to request something, Beware: I am slow at posting and have a lot of drafts that are yet to be posted. I'm like running on 4 hours of sleep and celsius, so I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes. I didn't do this request justice but I tried (I swear)

[sundrop-writes]

Stupid For You

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Hey - tell me what you want me to say. You know I’m Stupid For You.

I’ll take what I can get.

The best is hard to grip when everybody wants you, and everybody wants you.

Summary:

Stiles tried to return your panties - he really did.

But he still has the contraband in his possession, and he accidentally drops the underwear in the locker room in front of the entire lacrosse team. To cover up the fact that he stole them, he lies and says that he got them from you after a hook-up. And surprisingly - you back up his story?

Only with the promise that he helps you turn his lie into the truth.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 11,900

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Before you read this fic, be sure to read BRAINWASHED. This fic can be read as a standalone, but you get more Stiles goodness by reading both, and the context of this one will make more sense if you read the other fic first.

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

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; this fic DOES use Y/N; as with the previous fic - the reader is implied to be fat/plus-sized; also again - for argument's sake, even though the character's in this fic are in high school, everyone is at least 18 (and the fic was inspired by a 20 something actor, so imagine the characters to be whatever age you want); mentions of panty stealing (carried over from the previous fic - Stiles stole a pair of the reader's panties in that fic and still has them in his possession); mentions of Stiles masturbating, but not described in detail like last time; mentions of Stiles having sexual fantasies about the reader; the rest of the lacrosse team finds Stiles with the panties and mocks him for it - they mock him for potentially having the panties to wear them and call him a 'cross-dresser', so I guess the warning here is transphobia and transphobic ideas (which would be very typical of high school boys, especially around the time this show was made in 2011); mentions of other members of the lacrosse team finding the reader sexually attractive (it is implied that the reader is generally known as a hot, attractive girl); mention of the reader wearing a 'slutty' Halloween costume to a party (Stiles has a picture of it that he 'loves'); for the actual smut section - the reader is dominant and Stiles is submissive; size kink - Stiles likes being manhandled by the reader because he is thin and skinny; the reader imposes rules on Stiles as a dom and he follows them, but there is no safeword implemented or needed (as the writer, I say they don't need one because they will never be put in danger of using one) (because they are fictional characters and their hard 'nos' will never come into play and only things they want will happen); orgasm restriction - Stiles has to ask the reader in order for permission before cumming; bondage - the reader uses a scarf to tie Stiles's wrists to the bed; the reader gives Stiles a handjob; lots of dirty talk; orgasm denial/edging (towards Stiles); the reader calls Stiles: needy boy, good boy, babe, baby, sweetheart; undertones of humiliation kink; undertones of pain kink (nothing severe, but Stiles does like a bit of pain); begging (from Stiles, a lot); protected penis in vagina sex (they DO use a condom this time) (different, I know); Stiles sucks on the reader's tits; Stiles eats the reader's pussy; thigh riding - Stiles grinds against the reader's thigh to cum; praise kink - towards Stiles; the reader calls Stiles 'pretty'; undertones of dumbification kink; I believe that is finally it. I hope you all enjoy!!

A/N: So, I have some mixed feelings about releasing this fic. Currently, I am only rushing to edit and release it in order to get it off my plate, and I want to do so before the end of the year. I wrote this during the hiatus, when I was writing fics without editing them and I really enjoyed getting to write a fic and go onto the sequel without having to stop and think too much about it. But to me, the first fic feels naturally complete. And so I didn't really like people nagging and continually asking for a sequel to the other fic as if it's not a complete fic on its own. It's only recently that I found a way to put it into words. Whenever I release a fic and people only care about seeing a sequel or a second part (especially if it's a oneshot with an intentional ending and people ask for a sequel like it's something so urgent), it makes me feel like that fic is not good enough because people view that fic as incomplete on its own. I know people think it's a compliment or flattering to ask for a sequel, but to me, if you like my writing, ask for me to write more for those same characters or in that same fandom - but if you are constantly asking for a sequel to a specific fic, it makes me think that you think that fic is not good and it needs to be completed in some way. But anyway - I tried to remember why I had fun writing this fic in the first place, and if anybody starts asking for a 'part three', I will start swinging. (THERE WILL NOT BE A PART THREE.) Also, when I originally wrote this, I was watching Season 1 and I had not met Isaac yet, so for my own fun, as my own special treat, I added Isaac to the locker room scene. Because he is my baby. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!

...

A week later, Stiles still had not returned the stolen panties to you. 

It was something that he kept meaning to do. Honestly, he really did. 

But he just never got the chance to. 

Somehow, in that entire week, he had never been left alone in your room. Not for long enough to actually figure out what to do with the stolen goods. Should he leave them in your hamper and let you find them in the laundry? Should he slip them back into your drawer like nothing had happened since, technically, they were clean? He always ended up panicking and shoving them back into his bag whenever he heard you coming back down the hall. 

On other nights when the two of you had been studying together, it had been at his place instead of yours. And any time he had gone over to your house, you had been with him pretty much the whole time. 

And okay - maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe you had taken bathroom breaks or left the room for a while because your mom wanted to talk to you. Or you ran downstairs to grab a pizza that you had ordered to share with him - but every time he opened his backpack to grab the panties in order to put them back, he felt some insane thing inside his head telling him that he just couldn’t do it. Part of him thought that it was fear over getting caught - the idea that you would walk back into the room just in time to see him with the evidence in hand. 

But deep down, he knew it was a possessiveness. The idea that these panties were now his. They belonged to him now and he didn’t want to put them back. Those panties were his prize - his special, secret little part of you. And he couldn’t give that up. Not yet. 

He hadn’t jacked off with them since that first time. Well, he hadn’t specifically put them around his cock and made a mess of them in the same way. But he held them in a clean hand and enjoyed the texture of the lace, enjoyed the thought of you wearing them - while he used his other lubed hand to make himself cum. And he had done that every single night, sometimes twice, since he had taken them. It was becoming a bit of a worrying habit. 

He was wondering if you had noticed them gone yet. 

Maybe, when he finally did get rid of them, he wouldn’t return them back to you - he would have to burn them or something, just to get rid of the evidence. And then he would have to go on believing that you either hadn’t noticed the specific pair gone or you went on thinking that you had simply just lost them. 

But he couldn’t dwell on that for too long - because he did actually have other things to do besides viciously jerking off to thoughts about you. Even though that activity alone took up way too much of his time these days. Surprisingly, he was doing a lot better in his classes thanks to studying with you (he actually managed to retain a lot more of the material when you explained it to him), and he had just made First Line of the lacrosse team due to a horrible outbreak of pink eye. So things in his life were really looking up. 

The team funneled into the locker room, sweaty and tired after their practice, but personally - Stiles was glowing. 

He felt like he had done particularly well that day, and you had shown up to watch his practice. Even if Coach kept getting his name wrong and you had almost stormed into the middle of the field to scream at him about it. Overall, it was a good day. And he had a study date with you planned after this, so he had nothing but excitement brewing in his stomach at the idea of getting to spend more time with you. 

But then - it happened. 

He had almost completely forgotten that the contraband stolen panties were even in his bag. The item had become such a normal part of his life now that he hadn’t even considered what might happen if someone else found them on his person. So he thought nothing of putting his bag on the bench in the middle of the room and rooting through it, wide open, looking for the fresh clothes he had brought with him. (Of course, the only reason he had even brought fresh clothes was because he knew he would be hanging out with you later, and he wanted to avoid another Mustard Stain Incident.) 

When he took out these fresh clothes and began dressing (fresh out of the showers, of course) - it was just a tiny blur in the corner of his eye. Just a little streak of purple falling to the floor. As he put his second foot into his jeans, he spotted them, right there, sitting in the middle of the locker room floor - and his heart stopped. 

Naturally - someone else spotted them too. 

And just as Stiles raced to pick them up, another hand snatched them out from under him. 

“Woah, Stiles.” Danny’s voice chuckled, rising back to his full height. “Are these yours?” 

Mockery was dripping in every inch of his words, and Stiles’s heart raced. He rushed to pull his pants up, not yet fastening his zipper, and he glared at Danny, entirely lost for words. He moved to snatch the purple lace panties where Danny was dangling them off one finger, partly disgusted, partly amused. 

Naturally, Danny dodged the move, still looking at Stiles with mockery written all over his face. 

“Ya know, this really isn’t your color - red would look much better on you.” Danny smirked. 

Wait - he thought that Stiles had them because he had been wearing them? 

This comment easily caught Jackson’s attention, who slammed his locker door shut and moved to see what his friend was talking about. 

“Oh my god,” He chuckled, looking at the item in Danny’s hand and then back to Stiles, amusement spreading into a horrible grin across his face. “You’re a cross-dresser! This is too good. I always knew you were a freak, but this just brings it to a whole new level.” 

Jackson’s loud voice caught the attention of the entire team, who all craned their necks to see what he spoke of - including Scott, who practically ran around the corner with his hair still soaking wet and some suds dripping off him, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist as he raced to see what Jackson meant. 

“What?” Scott balked, looking at Stiles entirely confused. 

“Look, they’re not mine!” 

Stiles barked, panic setting in as he realized how fast the rumor would spread. It would be incredibly juicy gossip, if it were true (and most people didn’t care if gossip was true or not, which would make it spread even faster) - so he rushed to stamp it out before that could happen. 

“They belong to Y/N!” 

With this harsh declaration, he reached out and snatched them back, and Danny was too shocked by these words to move away this time. 

The room fell deadly silent, save for the distant hum of the shower that Scott had left running in his haste to watch the confrontation unfold. Everyone was staring at Stiles unabashedly now, very clearly shocked by his words. 

Fuck. 

Stiles’s heartbeat ramped up again. He had been so quick to try and exonerate himself that he had walked into a whole new problem: 

Now everyone on the team would find out that he was a panty-stealing pervert. And he wasn’t sure which reputation was worse: that, or being assumed to be a secret cross-dresser. 

“Seriously?” Isaac asked, being the first one to speak up and break the silence. “Because if you of all people managed to hit that,” He let out a low whistle, let a train blowing out a hoot of steam. “I admire you. She is so fucking hot. Normally she doesn’t give guys at this school the time of day. How did you-?” 

“No, no fucking way, they’re not hers.” Jackson scoffed, cutting off Isaac’s congratulatory words, immediately in disbelief. His natural instinct was to think that Stiles would never be able to get with someone as hot as you. “She’s a ten and you’re a solid three. Maybe. In the dark. With a bag on your head. That so did not happen.” 

Stiles frowned at the insult, but he was relieved that nobody suspected that he had stolen the underwear. Nobody had seen through him to the much more likely truth. 

“Come on, he’s like a four.” Danny added on. “He could easily be a seven if he changed his hair.” 

Feeling suddenly self conscious, Stiles put a hand up to his head - and felt entirely confused about where this conversation was going. 

“You’re getting off topic,” Scott piped up, looking between Danny and Stiles, his face nothing but pure confusion. “You’re telling us that you finally, actually went for it?” 

He was shocked that you and Stiles had gotten together without him knowing it. And he was slightly disappointed that his best friend had gotten some action with his long-time crush without telling him about it. 

“Yeah, come on - give us some details.” Isaac added on with a grin.

“Yes, yes I did! I finally went for it.” Stiles replied, mocking confidence, puffing out his chest. “Y/N and I hooked up in my Jeep last week. And these are hers,” He added on, proudly holding up the underwear as his prize. 

If he was going to screw himself with a lie, he might as well make it a big one. 

“Really?” Jackson posed, clearly still not believing him. “So - how did it go down? Did you get to second base? Third?” 

“Uh… remind me of the bases again?” Stiles muttered. 

Isaac rolled his eyes, and Scott looked as though he was making calculations in his head. 

“What was it - handjob? Blowie? Did you finger her? When did you get those?” Jackson persisted. “Is she a screamer?” 

Stiles’s gut twisted. So he was going to need details for his fake story. 

“You are so utterly barbaric.” Danny muttered, turning back to his locker, clearly tuning out of the conversation now that it had gotten too ‘straight’ for him. 

“Gross!” Scott disrupted Stiles’s internal panic with a face of twisted disgust. “Can we not talk about one of my best friends like this? Please?” 

“Jesus, Scott, don’t ruin this for me,” Isaac whined, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, McCall, shut it.” Jackson grunted, dismissing him. “I just wanna know if Stiles here is lying.” 

Scott simply rolled his eyes and retreated back to the shower. He was someone who truly believed Stiles at his word. Even if he had never smelled the pheromones of sex on him, he guessed that ‘hooked up’ meant something else to Stiles. 

Stiles hated that this left him alone with several pairs of eyes dissecting him - the guys on the team who were perverted and gossipy enough to want to know the details of his hook-up with you. 

“Well - I’m not lying.” Stiles hissed through his teeth. “She - we. Well - we made-out in the backseat. And then - she - she rode my dick. Hard.” He said, knowing that his tone didn’t sound the most confident. But he supposedly had proof right there in the form of your underwear. 

“Hmm, really?” Jackson replied, still not convinced. “You know what? Why don’t we just go and ask Y/N about this whole thing? She and Lydia are waiting outside, aren’t they?” 

Oh fuck. 

Stiles was screwed. So, so screwed. 

His stomach rose up into his throat and he couldn’t get words out, couldn’t scream out ‘no’, couldn’t do anything to stop Jackson (who was fully dressed and ready) as he snatched the underwear out of Stiles’s hand and marched out into the hallway. All Stiles could do was rush out into the hallway in pursuit, following Jackson and the group of gawking looky-loos that had followed who now seemed very interested in this piece of drama. 

Stiles didn’t even have time to pay attention to the fact that he wasn’t yet dressed himself - he didn’t have a shirt or shoes on and his pants weren’t even fastened. He couldn’t bring himself to mind because he was about to be outed as a thief and a pervert, and likely about to be violently jumped by the entire team for it. 

He wished that he still had his lacrosse pads on. 

You and Lydia were standing against a couple of random lockers, chatting idly, and you both looked utterly confused by the mob approaching. Lydia looked even more confused (with a hint of disgust) when she saw that Stiles was still half naked, and if Stiles wasn’t flooded with panic, he might have noticed you raking your eyes over his torso with a certain hunger and then licking your lips. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Jackson smiled at you trying to be charming. “These fell out of-” He held up the underwear to show you, and you immediately frowned. 

“Ew! Why do you have them?” You cut him off, snatching them back before he could finish his sentence. 

“Are those your underwear?” Lydia asked, looking between you and Jackson with anger brewing. “Jackson, why do you have another girl’s underwear?” She ground out sharply. 

“Well, as I was saying,” He said, clearly annoyed. “Those fell out of Stiles’s backpack. And he claims that he only has them because he hooked up with you, Y/N,” 

You and Lydia both looked at Stiles - you, with a certain content glow in your eyes, and Lydia, glaring at him while her lips curled in unhidden disgust. Jackson stood there with a smirk, as though waiting to be right, and there was a moment where nobody spoke that Stiles swore his heart swelled up and climbed out of his throat. 

Then, you let out a soft laugh and said: 

“Yeah. We did. Why is this such big news?” 

Jackson glared at you and Lydia’s expression of disgust became even more prominent. Stiles became dizzy with shock and he hoped that nobody noticed the way his chest flexed as he let out a breath of relief. 

Thank God - you were covering for him. 

Wait. Why were you covering for him? 

“He and I have been hooking up for months now. We didn’t want to parade it around the school as gossip and I made him promise that I wouldn’t become locker room talk,” You stressed these words, giving him a small glare. 

Behind Jackson, Isaac’s face became painted with guilt. 

“But it’s true.” You said, giving Stiles an oddly sultry look. He knew he was standing there with his mouth stupidly agape, but he just couldn’t find it in him to close his mouth. “The last time we hooked up, I gave him these panties in case he got lonely on nights I can’t visit.” 

You reached out, running a single finger along his bare torso from sternum right to the waistband of his underwear where they were sticking out of his jeans - and yup, his dick was definitely ballooning to life now. 

“I didn’t intend for everybody on the lacrosse team to put their grubby hands all over them.” You said this sharply, glaring at Jackson now. 

He simply rolled his eyes in reply. Clearly, he hated the idea that he had been wrong, and he was pouting in silence now. 

“Okay, this has been sufficiently gross.” Lydia announced, effectively ending the conversation. “Jackson, can you go get your stuff so we can leave? We have dinner with my mom at five, and-” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes again. 

“Stiles, you better hurry up too.” You told him. “I need to get that bra I left in the back of your Jeep.” 

And then - much to his shock, you leaned in and laid a kiss right on his lips. Firm, but fast. Laying a claim on him right in front of everyone. Owning up to the story materially as much as you had with your words. 

If it hadn’t been for Jackson slapping him on the shoulder, Stiles would have been frozen with shock long after you pulled away. But then, he was on autopilot, walking back to the locker room with Jackson and the other onlookers who were whispering in hushed tones about him ‘banging such a hot girl’. 

“I gotta tell you, Stilinski, I did not think that you had it in you.” Jackson told him, this being a compliment coming from him. “But I guess somehow, you ended up with a ten.” 

“I definitely want more details later.” Isaac told him in a low whisper before he returned back to his own locker. 

Somehow - Stiles had come out on top in this situation. 

In the hallway behind them, Lydia sighed and locked you in a judgemental gaze. 

“Really? Stiles?” She asked, harshness seeping through her voice. 

“What?” You shrugged. “He’s cute.” 

Lydia waited for further explanation, and you folded. 

“...And he’s easy to boss around. I like it when he gets flustered from simple instructions, but then does it anyway.” 

“Oh.” Lydia nodded. “So it’s a kink thing.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. You couldn’t entirely disagree with her. 

… 

It wasn’t until Stiles was nearly finished dressing, sitting on the bench tying his shoes that it truly hit him: 

He was still utterly screwed. 

Even if the guys on the team thought he was some high school hero for somehow managing to get into your pants (some of them high-fiving him and patting him on the shoulder in congratulations before they left the locker room). And even if, for some bizarre reason, you had chosen to cover for him in front of everyone (he put that on you being a loyal best friend and quite literally not wanting to air your dirty laundry in front of everyone) - you still knew the truth. You and Stiles might be the only people who knew, but both of you still knew the truth. 

For a minute there, he had been deluded enough to start believing his own bullshit story. But it was still complete bullshit. 

There hadn’t been some heat of the moment romp in the back of his Jeep that resulted in you naked for him, losing your underwear or giving them to him as a reward. He was still a pathetic virgin who had stolen them and had no right to have them in the first place. He still had to face you, likely knowing that this was the end of your friendship, because you were the only person who knew about the horrible thing that he had done. 

Stiles dreaded facing you, but he knew that he couldn’t hide out in the locker room forever. So he grabbed his gear and he braved his way into the parking lot, where you were now waiting by the Jeep since Lydia had left with Jackson. You were distracted, looking at something on your phone, and Stiles savored the few moments he had left to admire your beauty before you would declare that you hated him forever and never speak to him again. 

In all honesty, Stiles expected you to slap him, yell at him, and then leave. He expected you to, at the very least, tell him that the friendship was over and that he should never talk to you again. 

He was entirely surprised when he approached you and nothing of that nature happened. 

Instead, you gave him a cold, uninterested look before you said: 

“Door.” 

In the most deadpan voice ever, while motioning to the passenger’s side door - oh, of course. Obviously meaning for him to open the door for you. 

It was something he usually did upon instinct anyway (always bending over backwards to impress you) but today, the intense dread hanging over his head had caused him to forget. 

He rushed to get the door for you and you climbed into the passenger’s seat as you usually did, still not yet speaking to him. So then he busied himself with putting his gear in the back, still feeling anxiety curl in his gut at the conversation that would inevitably take place during the ride home. At least you still felt okay with riding with him. Perhaps the friendship wasn’t entirely ruined after all. 

He climbed into the driver’s seat and began fumbling with his keys in nervous, shaky hands, not yet ready to look you in the eye. You were staring at yourself in the flip-down mirror, fixing your hair, wiping off some lip gloss that had smeared. Usually this would be a moment he would absolutely drink in, loving to stare at you while you did such menial tasks. But today, after being caught doing such a horrible thing, he was absolutely drenched in guilt and he just couldn’t bring himself to face you. 

The two of you simmered in the silence for a few moments. He was waiting for you to bring it up - for you to scream, yell, hit him, do something. 

He was surprised by what came next. 

“You said your dad isn’t gonna be home tonight, right?” You posed, still looking in the mirror rather than at him. 

It was what he had told you at lunch, inviting you over to watch some horror movies that you had been bugging him to see. 

He had guessed those plans would be canceled, hinging on what had just happened. 

“Uh, yeah.” He said, confirming it once again. “He’s working the night shift.” 

“Good. We’ll go to your place then.” 

You thought he would start to drive at this confirmation, but he was still unsettled by anxiety. He was still waiting for you to acknowledge it, at least. 

“Ugh, okay… are you gonna yell at me?” He burst out, knowing that it was incredibly stupid, asking to be yelled at, but he truly didn’t know what else to do at this point. You gave him a strange look, almost confused, and ran his hands over his face in frustration. “Come on! We both know what happened!” 

“Stiles, my, my… what are you talking about?” 

Your voice was dripping with sarcasm and your eyes were filled with determined mischief, and he knew then and there - you wanted him to say it. You wanted him to blatantly confirm in his own words what he had done. 

Stiles let out a harsh sigh, leaning his head down and accidentally bumping his forehead against the steering wheel in a way that made the horn dully beep, the knot growing larger and tighter in his gut. 

“Come on, you know…” 

He trailed off, hoping that you wouldn’t actually force him to say it. He sat upright again, and you continued to look at him expectantly, patiently, and he swallowed around the terrible dryness in his throat before he forced himself to say it. 

“I - I stole your underwear and kept them in my bag.” 

You both knew that he was leaving out the part where he had masturbated with them. Even if you had no proof of that, it was starkly obvious to you. 

But you decided not to push him about that detail. (For now.) 

“Oh. That.” You said, continuing to sound utterly sarcastic in your cluelessness. 

Then your tone switched to something oddly genuine as you said something he never would have expected. 

“I’ve been waiting for like a week to see if you even had them. I kind of thought I was going crazy. I thought maybe my cat stole them because you weren’t fessing up and you didn’t try to bring them back,” You sighed. “I was worried my whole plan failed.” 

Something inside of Stiles snapped, and he thought it was the last branch on his tree of his sanity. He chose not to worry about it for now. 

“Y - your plan?” He stuttered out, barely grasping at the reality of what you had meant. 

You had wanted him to find your underwear? You wanted him to take them? You wanted him to-? 

You let out a bright, amused laugh. 

“Yes, dummy!” You said, reaching up and poking the side of his head while he stared at you in utter shock. “I left the panties there for you to take. You’re cute, but god - you’re really dense sometimes.” You let out a sigh. “Now drive, please. As long as the blood currently trapped in your dick isn’t gonna distract you too much.” 

He hated that he got a sick thrill from you mocking him and calling him ‘cute, but dense’. But he was glad that he was used to driving with boners that you had given him, because it didn’t distract him too horribly. Thoughts of what would happen when the two of you got there had him running a few stops signs, though. 

…

Stiles still wasn’t entirely sure how the heinous crime of stealing your panties had gotten him into this glorious position, but with the way things were going, he no longer cared to question it. 

The minute that the two of you got through his bedroom door, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a bruising kiss. He struggled to keep up, clumsy but entirely excited against the movement of your mouth, wondering if he had somehow gotten sucked into another heated daydream. 

But no, that couldn’t be true - because this was so much fucking better. 

The smell of your perfume in his nose, the little puffing breaths you let out against his cheek, the little moans that emanated from your throat. And holy hell, the feeling of your tongue shoving past his lips that caused him to let out a pathetic moan of his own as you seemed determined to filthily fuck his mouth with it. 

You were a lot more aggressive in real life than you were in his dreams. 

But he fucking loved it. He loved it so much. 

His cock was already throbbing in his pants, likely staining his boxers with copious amounts of precum as you walked him back toward the bed. You then used the hand you had in the middle of his chest to shove him roughly back onto it. 

“Oh my god.” 

He squeaked out the words at the feeling of being manhandled by you - given, he knew he didn’t weigh that much and he had made no effort to put up a fight, but it was still hot to know that you could shove him around so easily. Which was something he would have to mentally unpack with himself later. But for now, he would simply just enjoy it. 

While his dick continued to ache harder, he looked up at you in awe. You were standing at the foot of the bed with your lip gloss smeared, your chest heaving slightly with a wicked grin on your face. Stiles had never seen a more beautiful predator in all his life. The look in your eyes told him that he was about to be absolutely devoured by you - and he couldn’t fucking wait. 

“Y/N, please-” He was about to begin begging, but you cut him off sharply. 

“Shut up.” You barked, and he felt a beautiful wave of hormones crash over his body at this. You were much more aggressive than in his dreams. It was so perfect. “No more talking now.” 

You put a knee on the bed between where his thighs had naturally draped open and you leaned over his body, crowding tightly into his personal space. He hoped that the needy whine he couldn’t contain as you raked your nails across his scalp wouldn’t count as ‘talking’. He was desperate to follow your rules - so desperate to be a good boy for you. 

“You will do everything I tell you to.” You whispered against his lips, and he nearly began shaking as he resisted the urge to close the gap and kiss you again. “Unless you want me to tell all the boys on the team that you’re actually a filthy perv who stole my panties?” 

“Y-” He nearly gave a verbal confirmation of this, but then he remembered what you had said. 

No more talking. 

Instead, quickly picking up on following the rules, Stiles nodded his head aggressively. 

“From now on, you do not look at any other girl, you do not touch any other girl, you belong to me - do you understand?” 

He had no clue what ‘other girls’ you thought he might possibly be touching, or even talking to in a non-platonic way, but he got another tight thrill at being claimed as yours. He wanted so badly to be yours - to be your good boy. 

He nodded aggressively again - his tongue lolling out of his mouth, slick with want, practically drooling down his chin like a dog at this point, his eyes staring at you with a hypnotized kind of need. 

“When we are having sex, you do not speak unless prompted, you do not cum unless I give you permission, and from now on - you do not touch yourself unless I tell you to.” 

His cock throbbed weakly in protest at this. He swallowed thickly, his throat straining with complaints about your words. He knew it would be difficult to go from jerking off every morning and every night to likely not at all, but fuck - you, on top of him, you wanting to have sex with him - it was more than a fair price to pay. 

If someone had told him a week ago that he would be in this position, he would have given up anything for it. 

So naturally, he nodded again. 

“Do you understand?” 

He stayed silent, believing that he was following your rules. 

“Tell me that you understand.” 

“I understand.” Stiles breathed out in a rush, nodding again. 

“Good. Now take off your clothes.” 

You got off the bed again and he was momentarily distracted by watching you shuffle through your bag for something, but then he remembered the instruction. You wanted him to take off his clothes. You actually wanted to touch him. 

Stiles rushed to strip and he didn’t have time to be self conscious before you were kissing him again, drowning him in hot, open-mouthed kisses as he stepped out of his underwear and jeans where they were pooled around his ankles. You pushed him onto the bed again and this time followed him, straddling his waist while still fully clothed yourself. Wearing the shirt, skirt, and tights you had worn to school that day, making for an odd sensation as the fabric covering your hot cunt rubbed against his now bare, very hard dick. 

He didn’t think anything of it when you grabbed his hands and brought them above his head - but then there was fabric encircling his wrists, and he pulled himself away from your mouth to blink up dumbly, wondering what you were doing. 

You had gotten a scarf out of your bag, and you were tying him to the bedpost. 

“Remember what I said?” You grinned at him, tying a knot that was surprisingly secure. “Good boys get rewards, and bad boys get spanked.” 

He tugged experimentally on the hold, and it was pretty firm. Not tight enough to cut off his circulation - but he definitely didn’t see himself getting out of it without help. 

His stomach jumped as he wondered which you had deemed him as - good or bad. Especially because he was now tied up, completely at your mercy. He was splayed out on his back, so this wouldn’t be an optimal position to spank him in. But theoretically, you would do whatever else you wanted to him. And that thought sent an odd tingle through his body, causing a wonderful jolt through his cock.  

“I’m gonna give you a chance to earn a reward, Stiles.” You told him, delivering another messy kiss. “You gonna be a good boy for me?” 

“Yes.” He answered eagerly. “Fuck, yes - I wanna be good for you.” 

You grinned at this. 

He was more than eager to see what you were gonna do next. 

A sharp jolt of anxiety hit him when you sat up (leaning more of your weight on his cock, causing him to let out a pathetic moan) - he hated being separated from you already. He churned in anticipation as you took a moment to sit there and just admire him. 

Stiles was so pretty, tied up for you, ready to be devoured - his honey eyes glossed over with need and anticipation, his lips bitten pink and slightly swollen, parted in that beautifully dumb way as he heaved out shallow, desperate breaths. Yes, he was skinny - even playing lacrosse hadn’t managed to put much muscle tone on his body, but you did find a certain appeal in his lithe, thin form. You gained a certain thrill from knowing that you could so easily man-handle him, toss him down, and he really wasn’t strong enough to put up much of a fight in return. 

His cock, leaking frantically between your legs - was beautiful in its own way. A healthy six inches and nicely thick, his pubes dark, thick and untrimmed. Unkept because he definitely hadn’t been expecting anyone to see him without clothes anytime soon. Charming, in a sense. 

Just as Stiles was feeling smothered by the anticipation, by the heated gaze of your eyes running up and down his body, you then leaned to look in his bedside drawer. He wanted to scream for you not to do it, but he had a feeling that it would be breaking your rules; that it would be a ‘bad boy’ thing to do. And that would run the risk of you not touching him at all. 

You let out a laugh when you saw what was in the drawer. 

“You know, somehow I’m not surprised that this is almost empty.” You told him, bringing out the dwindling bottle of lube and placing it beside him. “You must like it really wet, huh?” 

The words were absolutely filthy coming off your lips, intentionally so on your part, but it sounded like a rhetorical question. He swallowed a whimper, but said nothing. 

“And this,” You picked up one of the many pictures he had of you in the drawer - one of you in your Halloween costume from last year. Lydia had dared you to wear something ‘slutty’, and you had shown up to her Halloween party in a black leather bra, a leather mini skirt, leather boots, and a pair of cat ears. Stiles had spent most of that night in the bathroom. “I have to say, I’m flattered.” 

You have another bright giggle before you put the picture back and then closed the drawer. 

“So - you think about me a lot, do you, Stiles?” You asked, scooting back on his thighs until you were sitting on his knees. 

Not a rhetorical question. 

He swallowed thickly, gathering himself to answer. 

“Yes.” He answered, his voice far too weak for his liking. “All the time.” 

You hummed thoughtfully at this. 

You reached to your waist, untucking your shirt from your skirt before you lifted it off completely over your head, revealing your blue lace bra to him. Dear god, you were so perfect. As you tossed your shirt off to the side, the bra strap slumped down your shoulder and he mourned over not having his hands free, wanting to gently lift it back up, or rip the whole thing off you, wanting to kiss along your shoulder-

“How often do you think about me?” You asked, reaching for the bottle of lube. 

Stiles felt a wave of shyness splash up inside of his gut. But he knew that it was useless to deny the truth now. He had already been caught, over and over again. You wouldn’t mock him now if he just admitted it. 

You cracked the top on the bottle, and the sound shook his insides - his dog-like mind so well trained to associate the sound with having his dick touched. He licked his lips, viciously trying to get his mouth to work in tandem with his brain. You had asked him to speak. He needed to speak. But that was growing more and more difficult while he stared down the ample cleavage coming out of your bra and shook with the anticipation of you about to touch his cock. 

“Every day.” He whimpered out. “All the time, I-” 

He let off a choked sound when you poured some lube into your hand and then finally, after years of him dreaming about it, you wrapped a loose, cool, wet grip around the base of his hard, leaking cock. His hips jumped up into your touch and he let out a choked sound from the back of his throat while you continued to look at him with an absolutely wicked grin. 

“Stiles,” You said his name in a firm tone, reminding him that he was supposed to be giving you an answer. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you!” He shouted, much louder than he had intended to. “All the time, I - I feel like I’m going insane. You’re too perfect, you’re too hot, I-I-I-”

“Hey, shh, baby.” You told him, running the other hand up his thigh in a way that made him gasp. 

You used that loose grip on his dick and began jerking him off, spreading the lube across him in the most leisurely way possible. It was a dull pleasure, but one so perfect because it was delivered by you. 

He had no clue how absolutely deliberate it was. But of course - everything you did with him was so deliberate, so well planned out to drive him entirely insane. 

“How often do you jerk off?” 

You asked, curiosity ripe within you as you imagined it: Stiles splayed out on this exact bed, pants around his ankles, his hand wet with lube and creating a sloppy blur on his cock as he jerked off as fast as possible, absolutely desperate to cum - his face twisted with pleasure, his thighs tensing, your name hot on his lips. 

You really wanted to know the kind of things he imagined, what made his kinky little mind tick. You wanted to know just how desperate he was to steal your panties in the first place. Did he think that he could get away without you noticing them gone or was he just too horny to care? 

You tightened your grip slightly, continuing to drag your hand up and down his dick in long, slow, deliberate strokes. You wanted him hard, throbbing, and desperate - even more so than he already was. You wanted him blinded with pleasure and begging. 

“A lot.” He breathed back, bucking his hips up to meet your touch, clearly already needy for more. 

You put a firm hand on his hip, pinning him to the bed. You tutted your tongue, scolding him. 

“Come on, Stiles.” You said, your tone somewhere between mocking and scolding. “You can be more specific than that.” 

You tightened your grip again, your hand now acting like a firm vice around his cock - something that made him moan deeply and close his eyes. You let him enjoy it for a few moments as you stroked him deeply, slowly - spreading the wetness over his cock in deep, pleasurably strokes. For the first time ever, delivering the pleasure of having a hand on his cock that wasn’t his own. 

Already, intense pleasure was knotting up in his stomach. Already - he was getting close to cumming. 

You could tell that from the way his breathing shallowed out, the way his stomach tensed. 

You pulled your hand back completely, leaving him to let out a confused sound and pop his eyes open at top speed, craning his neck up to look at you with utter disappointment while you continued to grin at him. 

“Tell me.” You instructed firmly. “How many times a week do you make yourself cum?” You continued your interrogation. When his face flashed with a streak of guilt, you changed the question. “How many times a day?” 

Stiles took a sharp breath. 

Again, he felt caught. 

“Twice.” He said it quietly, before gathering his courage. “Twice - twice a day. Usually… once in the morning and once at night.” 

You giggled. “Needy boy.” 

He was rewarded with your touch back on his cock. He let out a deep, satisfied moan as you started jerking him off again, wet and smooth, a bit faster this time. It created a lovely wet noise and he let out another moan when he heard it. 

“What do you think about when you touch yourself, Stiles?” You asked, your voice low and sultry - warm, inviting him to the possibilities. 

Perhaps, if he told you about the things he thought about, his most private and guarded thoughts, then you might make them come true. 

“You.” He moaned back almost instantly - trying to buck up into your touch again but being held down by you again. “I - I only think about you. I swear.” 

You licked your lips. 

It was something you loved to hear. But you yearned for more details. 

“Cute.” You sighed. “As flattering as that is, babe, I want specifics.” You pressed. “Specific fantasies. Come on, you must have kinks,” 

If he had to summarize it - his kink was you. 

And it was growing increasingly difficult to think with your hand pumping on his cock. 

“Your - your thighs!” Stiles blurted out frantically, saying the first thing that he thought of. 

Even now, feeling the heavy, warm fat of your thighs spread across his knees, had his cock jumping in your hand - had him buzzing and dizzy all over. It was one of his favourite parts about you, something that made him hard if your thighs brushed against him when the two of you sat too close together on the couch during a movie night. 

“Your thighs are so - so thick, and beautiful, and big, and-” He choked off into a moan when you moved your other hand to his balls, spreading some of the lube there and gently massaging them in a way that sent a jolt through his whole body, practically making him seize off the bed. 

You let out a giggle. 

“What else, baby?” 

His cock was hot and pulsing in your hand, and you knew he was close again. But you wanted him to get right to the edge before you cut him off this time. 

“I - I think about - about having your thighs wrapped around my head,” 

He choked out, stuttering as he began humping into your touch, so desperate to cum. He had pretty much forgotten about your earlier rules by now, had forgotten about asking for permission, and he just needed to cum into your touch. He needed it so badly. 

“I wanna eat you out so badly. I wanna taste you. I wanna eat your pussy. Please, please, please, please-!” 

This visceral begging tipped you off to the orgasmic delirium he was tipping into, and you squeezed your touch sharply around the base of his cock to keep him from cumming, even going so far as to give his balls a light tap in punishment. He let out a bitter gasp as his orgasm was sharply cut off, the feeling drowned bitterly in his stomach. It left his muscles so tight and left him flailing against his binds for a moment, squirming chaotically underneath you. 

“Bad boy.” You scolded him, your voice wicked and causing his dick to throb woefully in your unforgiving touch. “You didn’t ask if you could cum.” 

You leaned down and bit one of his nipples - pure teeth, unforgiving, and it made him cry out in a gargle of his own spit as his head became even dizzier. He didn’t even have the mental capacity to question why he liked the sharp spike of pain so much, especially not when his balls were throbbing so terribly, and he needed to cum so fucking badly. 

“Please?!” He cried out. “Please? Can I cum? I need it, I need-” 

“Shh, baby.” 

You hushed him again, taking your hand off his dick and leaving it to rest leaking against his stomach, running both your hands up his torso in a soothing touch as you leaned in and pressed a few sweet kisses on his open, whining mouth. 

“I’ll give you a chance to be good. Is that what you want?” 

“Please.” He replied, so desperate that he was on the verge of tears now. “I wanna be good for you, please.” 

“I’m gonna ride your pretty cock now. And if you wait to cum until I tell you,” You pressed these words hard, making sure he paid attention to this part. “Then I’ll let you eat my pussy. Does that sound like a good reward?” 

“Yes.” He replied, entirely breathy and excited. “Please, please. I’ll be good.” 

“Oh, baby. I know you will.” 

This spilled from your lips as an overly syrupy coo, and he couldn’t help but to yearn for more of that sound. 

You got off him, then, and he let out an utterly disappointed sound - instantly missing your weight and the heat of you above him. 

Stiles looked on with curiosity as you went back to your bag. His heart thumped with anticipation when you came back with a condom, and didn’t hesitate to open it and then roll it onto his still very stiff cock. (Just the few touches of you doing this had him warming with even more pleasure, and he worried that the touch of your pussy around him would cause him to cum instantly, disappointing you.) 

Then, he watched in awe as you stripped off. Your skirt, tights, and underwear, giving him a pang of disappointment that you left your bra on. You did this with intention, though, slightly worried that the sight of your bare tits would cause him to blow it too early. 

“Oh my god.” Stiles let out another whimper as you straddled him once again, putting a hand on his cock to line it up with your pussy. 

Fuck, holy fuck - this was really happening. He was really about to fuck you. He was about to fuck your perfect pussy. 

It was just as beautiful as he had imagined - covered in trimmed hair, which was glossy with your wetness. Fuck - he yearned to see that pussy spread out underneath him. He yearned to taste you. Even just feeling the heat coming off you as you lined up the tip, even through the condom - it was deadly. 

He was not going to survive this. 

He squeezed his eyes tight and held his breath, and you didn’t like that. You used your free hand to give him a light tap on the cheek - some small semblance of a slap, a grounding reminder that you were there, controlling him. 

“Hey, come on. Look at me.” 

Your words forced him to open his eyes, and he easily fell into a streak of obedience, eager to please you. His eyes snapped open and he looked right at you - absolutely enamored by your pretty face. 

“Good boy.” 

He let out another whimper at the praise. 

Then, you finally lowered yourself down onto his cock, sinking down in one smooth movement until you were fully seated - tightly wrapped around his dick and resting against his bony pelvis. 

He felt like the air had been punched out of him. That perfect, tight heat being wrapped around him - the wetness leaking out around his skin at the base of his dick, everything squeezing his cock like a vice, like you were made to fit him. It made him so dizzy, stole the air out of his lungs. It was all too perfect. 

“Oh. Oh. Oh god-” He gasped out, squirming underneath you, already intensely overwhelmed by the pleasure. 

You grabbed his jaw in one hand and held him still for another kiss, and he moaned hotly into your mouth, desperation growing inside of him. 

You started slowly grinding your hips into his pelvis, wanting to warm him up gently. As you pulled away from the kiss, he was panting frantically against your mouth, already overwhelmed. 

“Hey, shh.” You told him, smoothing your hands over his torso once again. “You gonna be good for me?” 

“Yes.” He quickly moaned in return, nodding his head eagerly. 

This was a side of Stiles that you had so quickly grown to love. You knew that you weren’t going to get enough of this - this beautiful soft obedience. Especially compared to usual sarcastic abrasiveness. 

This was your good boy. And you were going to have such a good time training him, having him learn the rules. You were heavily looking forward to shutting down his future quips on a dime with a simple threat of keeping future orgasms from him. 

You positioned your weight on your knees, then, and began lifting yourself off his cock halfway before you slammed your hips back down. You put your hands on either side of his head, between where his arms were stationed above him, still tangled up in the scarf and unable to move. After a moment, you built up a good, even pace - not quite gentle, but not entirely rough either. 

You were taking it easy on him for his first time. 

Stiles continued letting out shocked pants, sounding like a man drowning on dry land, hurriedly gasping for air. Soon, he began moaning as more wild pleasure was driven through his body from the feeling of your wet pussy gripping around his cock; from the feeling of you bouncing against his balls, from the sound of that perfect wet slap every single time you landed down on him. 

It caused a terrible need to brew in his stomach, and he knew it wouldn’t be long now. 

All too soon, he was going to cum. 

“Please!” He moaned out, trying to buck his hips up to meet yours - his muscles shaking so terribly that he couldn’t keep up with your pace and ended up just jostling wildly underneath you. “Please, please!” 

You grinned. 

You knew that you wouldn’t cum from this, but you were deeply enjoying yourself anyway. Stiles looked so pretty - so pathetic and pretty - gritting his teeth to try and hold back his sounds (which wasn’t working at all), tears rimming his eyes, a few even slipping out, his face tinging a lovely shade of pink from the exertion and the pure arousal. 

“Please ‘what’, baby?” 

You pressed, a slight edge of mocking on your voice that punched another harsh wave of arousal through his gut. It took everything he had in those moments not to cum - to hold it back. To be good for you. 

“Come on, sweetheart. You can say it. Just say the words-” 

“Please lemme cum,” He whined out, the words practically turning into a slur on his lips - mirroring exactly the way he had been begging to a fictional you as he had pumped his cock while sitting on this very bed not too long ago. “Please, please, please Y/N, please-” 

You leaned down to his ear then, whispering the words he so badly wanted to hear. 

“Cum for me, Stiles.” 

But this time it was so very real. 

With your permission given, his brain fired off, finally allowing himself to let it go. He let out a guttural, almost non-human sound as he humped his hips off the bed in harsh, fast strokes while you fucked down onto him tightly, roughly grinding into him to allow him to get the most out of it. Wanting him to have the most pressure from your hot cunt in those moments while his eyes rolled back into his head and he released a thick load into the condom. 

He was even pretty like this - his mouth wide open, his long lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks, his chest heaving as he released a concert of beautiful, whorish sounds. 

When his hips stopped and his noises dissolved off into a more gentle panting, you leaned down to kiss him again. He most definitely deserved it. 

“Good boy.” You mumbled against his mouth, eager to praise him. “Such a good boy for me. You did so good.” 

This caused another sound from him, and you simply smiled as he began to kiss you back, eager and sloppy, smearing spit across your cheek while you reached up and began untying the knot in the scarf you had secured him with. 

“You want your reward now?” You asked him. 

You couldn’t lie, your cunt was thrumming at the idea of him getting between your thighs. You wondered if he would be able to make you cum. He seemed eager to please and so far, he was good at following instructions, so you could probably tell him exactly what to do to get you off. Even if he couldn’t, you would certainly enjoy the view. 

“Yes, yes, please.” He moaned against your cheek, that desperation thrashing back up inside of him. “Please, I’ve been good, please-”

“Yes, you have been.” You soothed him again. “Good boy.” 

You released him from the binds and then finally got off him, allowing his softening cock to pop free from your pussy - something that caused him to loudly moan. 

You took off the condom and tossed it into the waste basket that he had by his desk, the lube and cum seeping into the crumbled up, forgotten papers that he had there. When you came back to the bed, he was looking at you with wide, eager eyes, waiting for his next instruction. Such a good boy. You really loved how this was turning out. 

“I’m gonna lay down, and then you can get between my legs. Okay, baby?” 

He nodded eagerly again, and hopped off the bed to give you room, nearly tripping over his own feet in doing so. 

You fluffed up his pillow and then laid down, spreading your legs wide, and when you looked back to him, he was tracing every single inch of your body with a wide-eyed gaze. His mouth was agape once again, absolutely not hiding the fact that he was absolutely lustful for you, becoming utterly distracted by the sight of you (almost completely) naked in his bed, laid out just for him. 

“Stiles.” You called his name, garnering his attention once again. “Come on, baby.” 

You held out an arm, signaling for him to come over, and he eagerly climbed into the bed between your thighs. 

You thought for sure that he would make himself comfortable down between your thighs and get right to tasting you, as eagerly as he had begged for it before, but it was his turn to surprise you now. 

“Please, can you-?” He cut himself off shyly, tracing a single finger along the cup of the bra that you still wore, the last scrap of clothing hiding your body from him. “Can you take it off?” 

That sent a thrill through you. Rather than being demanding, he was still so trepidatious - wondering if he had tread too far by asking you to remove clothing, even after you had ridden his cock. 

Still, you couldn’t help but to want to tease him - just a little bit more. 

“You wanna see my tits?” You asked, running your hands up your body, teasing your fingers along the edges of the bra cups as if threatening to pull them down. “You wanna… play with my tits, Stiles?” 

“Yes.” Stiles breathed out, entirely eager. 

You could see his cock swelling back to life between his thighs already. 

“Do you think you’ve been a good enough boy for that?” You questioned, lustful eagerness in your voice. 

His answer would entirely dictate whether or not you took the bra off. 

He swallowed thickly, still nervous, his eyes flickering between your cleavage and your own eyes, as if looking for a hint at the answer. He waited a careful moment, and then finally spoke. 

“Yes.” He said, pausing for a moment as if waiting for you to argue the point before he continued. “Yes, please, I’ve been good.” 

“Hmm…” You said, pretending to think. “Alright.” 

You reached up behind you, unhooking your bra and tossing it away. When your naked breasts were finally revealed to him, his tongue lolled out of his mouth in an almost puppy-like way, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he stared hungrily at the roundness of your perfect flesh. 

This time, he didn’t even ask you before he made his next move - entirely fueled by his own eagerness and desire, he swept down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. Instantly, he let out a loud moan around your tit that told you just how much he was enjoying this, something that had your pussy getting wetter as you saw the way his eyes drifted closed with bliss while he sloppily laved his tongue over your skin. 

He was so fucking cute, so fucking pretty - so fucking perfect like this. 

He continued like this for a few moments before he trailed a line of sloppy kisses to the other tit and began sucking on that one, feeling the need to give both beautiful girls equal attention. He licked his tongue across the skin in a fat trail that had you tingling, that had your cunt clenching. You were glad he was enjoying himself, but it was making the space between your thighs feel rather neglected. 

“Stiles, baby,” You called out, starting to sound a bit breathy from need yourself. You raked your nails gently across his scalp again, causing him to let out another moan. “You said you were gonna eat my pussy, right? You don’t wanna disappoint me - do you, baby?” 

He popped off your tit immediately. 

“Not gonna disappoint you.” He said in a hurried tone, shaking his head. 

You pulled him in for another kiss, and when you released him, he rushed down to get comfortable between your legs, which you spread even more, dropping your foot off the bed on one side to give him more room. 

Your pussy was so gorgeous. 

So much better than he had dreamed of - wet, gleaming, smeared in your own juices and slightly gaped from his cock. A sight that absolutely thrilled him - seeing exactly where he had been, knowing that he had fucked you, he had been inside of you. 

The smell of your pretty cunt was something more unique than your sweat or perfume like he had originally thought. He leaned in eagerly and licked a fat, wide stripe from where you were fluttering and open all the way up to your mound, getting his first real taste of you - he let out a loud moan as it fully penetrated his senses, as everything that was you spread across his tongue for the first time. 

You were so fucking perfect. You tasted so fucking perfect. 

You let out a moan of your own when Stiles moaned against you again, the vibrations radiating through your sensitive core. This time, he latched into your clit, seemingly knowing that swollen bead was his ticket to success without you even having to tell him. He sucked harshly on it for a moment that made your thighs twitch and threaten to close around his head before he began digging his tongue against it, lapping at your cunt, trying to suck all the taste off it that he could. 

“Good boy,” You moaned, reaching out and cradling the back of his head (not having much hair to grab onto with the short buzzcut that he had) - keeping him tight against your pussy, not that he seemed intent to pull away any time soon. “Such a good boy. Good boy for me!” 

He wasn’t particularly skilled - it was obvious from a mile away that he didn’t have any experience, but fuck, he more than made up for it with his pure eagerness. He was eating your pussy like it was his last meal, moaning against you like he was getting more pleasure from this than you were - and hell, maybe he was. 

He didn’t back off or complain when you instinctively bucked your hips against his face. In fact, he seemed to take it in stride, downright enjoying the way your warm juices were smeared across his cheeks and chin, his eyes shut in bliss as he tongued openly across your cunt, his drool mixing with your wetness while he moaned against you. 

“Oh, fuck! Stiles!” 

He moaned harder at the sound of his own name on your lips, so beautifully pornographic, better than he had dreamed it would be - even when he had imagined it so many times over and over again. Somehow, even when you thought he might not get you there at all, his eager performance and the vibrations from his moans against your clit had you so close already. 

“Got me so close, baby,” You moaned, scratching the back of his head. “Such a good boy, so close-” 

He moaned in response and tongued more vigorously at your clit, and you worked your hips against him, practically riding his face in order to bring yourself over the edge. 

“Fuck! Stiles!” 

You let out a throaty moan as you came, beautiful pleasure surging through your body while your back arched against the bed. Inadvertently shoving your hips even closer to his face, making him even more beautifully messy while he sucked and licked you. He loved the feeling of your body twitching and seizing underneath him, he loved hearing your gorgeous moans, he loved knowing that he had made you cum. 

He lowered his face down and shoved his tongue inside you, determined to drink right from the source then, his nose bumping against your now orgasm-sensitive clit unintentionally, making you shout loudly. This further smothered him in your essence in a way that he loved, while he shoved his tongue inside of you as far as he possibly could, absolutely loving the way your pussy fluttered around him, the way your taste overwhelmed his senses, the pure heat smothering his face. 

“Baby, baby-” 

You gasped and struggled for air, knowing that he wasn’t overstimulating you on purpose - he was just eager. And that thought alone was so overwhelmingly hot to you that you almost let him continue. But your clit thrummed with an ache of protest, and you knew that you couldn’t spoil him this much, this soon. You couldn’t handle having a spoiled brat on your hands. 

“Baby, you have to come up now!” You ordered sharply, digging your nails into his shoulder as a warning, adding a tiny bite of pain to fully get his attention. 

Stiles let out a tiny whine of disappointment, but did as he was told, finally unlatching himself from your cunt. This move made a sinfully wet sound as he pushed himself up with his hands to sit between your thighs on his knees. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his once again hard, throbbing pink cock smearing precum against his stomach. 

You had a passing thought about telling him to grab another condom, but again - you didn’t need to spoil him so soon. 

You had another idea instead. 

“Oh baby,” You cooed, reaching out and loosely gripping his cock, causing him to let out a shuddering moan and buck into your hand furiously - which didn’t give him much sensation, only teased him more. “You got really excited from that, didn’t you?” 

He nodded vigorously, his mind completely mush at this point, too weak to form words. 

“Do you wanna get off against my thigh?” You purred, gently stroking your knuckles across his temple - feeling a wicked kind of joy in seeing his face smeared in your wetness, especially when paired with the dumb, glossy look in his eyes. 

He almost dared to ask for more - wanting to fuck you again, to put his cock between your tits and fuck them - but he had a feeling that you wouldn’t let him get away with it. And he wanted to be your good boy so badly. So he was willing to take whatever you had to give him. 

“Yes.” He croaked out, his voice slightly hoarse now from all the moaning. “Yes, please.” 

“Good boy.” You grinned at him. “Come on.” 

You moved your leg - already slightly stiff from how long he had been between them, stretched around his shoulders - and slotted your thigh between his. You raised it up slightly, gently propping the broadness of your flesh against his aching balls and his hard, leaking cock. 

“Wait, I want-” 

He looked around for a moment, and then grabbed up the bottle of lube where it had falling on the floor from the vigor of your fucking. He poured a good deal of it (almost emptying it) over his cock, letting it leak down over your thigh, before he capped it and threw it away again. 

You smiled. 

“You really do like it wet, don’t you?” 

He simply nodded, and began moving his hips. Instinctively, you reached out and grabbed him, taking a commanding hold on those narrow hips to guide him. He easily fell under your control, letting you guide his pace - which meant he moved in slow, languid, sloppy, wet (thanks to the lube) movements across your thigh - his cock dragging against your skin in a way that was delicious, but almost not enough at the same time. 

He began letting out whimpers, his face twisting with pleasure and the need for something more as his gut curled with a distinctive ache. As if sensing this, even unconsciously, you couldn’t help your mouth. 

“You look so pretty like this,” You told him, hot and breathy. 

Turns out - that was the something ‘more’ he so desperately needed. Hearing you call him ‘pretty’ would have been an insult on any other day, but today, it was downright delicious. Your voice curling around the word, directed at him - it felt like something he had been waiting to hear his whole life. 

“I love seeing you get off against my thigh, rubbing your pretty cock against me,” 

Stiles let out a moan and you felt him fighting to move faster, so you encouraged it, pushing and pulling his hips faster, causing more delicious friction on his cock. 

“Please, please-” He gasped. 

You knew it wouldn’t take much more. 

“You know, I’ve probably been waiting for this just as long as you have,” You whispered lowly in his ear, finally confessing your secret. “I’ve been watching you every single day, seeing how wonderful and dumb you are when you stare at me for hours, thinking I don’t notice. And I’ve just been waiting to pin you up against something and fuck your pretty little brains out-” 

Your words were cut off by him crying out, a wet splash against your thigh that had alerted you to him cumming. This was almost pathetic, just a few spurts of cum before it was over (you guessed that with how often he jerked off and from the fucking earlier, you had practically drained his balls). It made you curious if forcing him to abstain from masturbation for a few days would yield more impressive results. 

An experiment for later, you guessed. 

“Good boy.” 

You pulled him into another kiss, ultimately satisfied by the end result of your plan - leaving your panties on your bed as bait for Stiles to find as a way to gently tip him off to your attraction to him. It had worked out in the very best way. Even if you had to wait more than a week for the wheels to truly set in motion. 

… 

After a joint shower (which was filled with Stiles grinning at you, clearly soaking up the beauty of his luck in landing someone as gorgeous as you) - you changed the sheets on the bed while he made something to eat, and after the two of you ate together, you tucked him in to go to sleep. 

He was disappointed that you couldn’t stay the night, just as excited to do other non sexual things with you like wake up in your arms and hold your hand in the hallways at school - but you did have to get home before your curfew. Just as he was dosing off, you kissed him on the forehead, and you thought of something delightfully naughty for him to wake up to, even if you couldn’t be there. 

You took off the underwear that you were wearing - a pair of lacy blue ones, to match your bra - and you pinned them up on his corkboard for him to find in the morning. 

A perfect little present for your good boy.

… 

The next morning, Stiles woke up to a knock on his bedroom door. 

“Okay, rise n shine, kid, time for-” 

His father’s voice cut off abruptly, and Stiles didn’t have time to ponder why before-

“Dear god, what the hell is that?” 

Stiles shot up out of bed, practically falling on the floor, wondering what it could be - monster, werewolf, hunter, someone with a gun-

His eyes landed exactly where his dad was looking, and he was relieved not to find danger, and then terribly embarrassed to see your underwear from the day before pinned to his corkboard, spread out in plain view. Stiles immediately went into damage control mode. 

“Look, Dad, I can explain-” 

“You know what? I don’t wanna know.” His dad said firmly, making a motion with his hand that said he was brushing away the subject. “Just - get ready for school.” 

His dad moved to leave the room, and then he sighed and paused in the doorway, turning back to Stiles in a way that made his gut churn. 

“Just - did you use protection?” 

Stiles almost offered to show his father the used condom that was still sitting in the trash can - even if only as proof that the night before he had a real, living girl in his room. But he figured that would be going too far. 

“Yes.” He answered, calm and short. 

His dad nodded, and moved to leave again. He made it a bit further down the hallway this time before he turned around and appeared in the doorway again. 

“Son - you know, women aren’t objects, you can’t claim them like sexual conquests, and they deserve respect-” 

“Dad.” Stiles sharply cut off whatever speech his father was about to give, wanting his father to know that he hadn’t pinned the underwear to the corkboard himself. He wasn’t some fratboy who celebrated getting laid with a fucking trophy. 

“She - she gave them to me.” He said. “She did that.” He motioned to the underwear, and his father’s face shifted from anger to deep discomfort. 

“Oh.” He said simply. “Well - I - okay. I don’t wanna know any more.” He said firmly. “And for god’s sake, son, take them down.” 

Stiles nodded, rushing to do so. 

He was going to take them down - but he wasn’t rushing to give them back to you anytime soon.

...

Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and this has a distinct, intentional ending. There will NOT be a continuation or a 'Part 3'. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging it to show your appreciation, or commenting on this fic, or you can take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for more of my fics from this fandom.

However, please do not comment on this fic asking for another sequel or asking for more - I generally consider that stressful and impolite. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider checking out my other fics about the criminally underrated character Isaac. Fics similar to this one are: Eager Little Puppy and Why Am I The One?

Or if you want more fics about subby boys, consider checking out Tongue Twister, Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop), or Lessons For A Genius.

Happy reading!! -Sunny <3

[greengoblinswifey]

Game of Deception—Lee Myung-Gi/Player 333 x Fem!Reader

summary— You and Myung-gi, share a growing attraction despite the chaos around you. But when his past surfaces, including a pregnant ex-girlfriend, your trust in him is shattered.

warnings—angst, manipulation, face fucking, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, slight degradation, betrayal.

Most of the players were asleep, but Lee Myung-gi wasn’t. You noticed him sitting up, his shoulders tense, staring off into the distance.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked softly, pulling the thin blanket around your shoulders as you sat up.

He turned to you, startled for a moment before his expression softened. “No, too much on my mind.”

“Do you want to lie down with me? It might help.” You hesitated before patting the small space beside you.

He gave you a small, shy smile and nodded. “Sure.”

As he lay beside you, the warmth of his body was comforting despite the cold reality of where you were. You felt his arm hesitantly drape over your waist, and you didn’t stop him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured after a moment, his voice barely audible over the soft snores of other players in the room.

You smiled, your heart fluttering at his words. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, as his eyes roamed your face.

This wasn’t the first time Myung-gi had looked at you like that. From the moment the games began, you noticed his quiet, reserved nature, how he tried to stay out of trouble but always had a sharp eye for the dangers lurking around. It had been during one of those dangerous moments that you first stepped in for him.

Thanos and his bird brained friend had cornered him during the chaos of the first night. “What’s the matter, pretty boy? Too scared to fight back?” Thanos taunted, shoving him roughly.

Before Myung-gi could respond, you stepped forward. “Why don’t you pick on someone else asshole?” you snapped.

Thanos turned to you, laughing until he realized you weren’t backing down. “What’s it to you baby?”

“It’s that I don’t like bullies,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You think intimidating him makes you tough? All I see is a desperate for attention piece of shit.”

For a moment, it seemed like Thanos would retaliate, but your unwavering glare and the growing attention of other players made him back off. “Whatever,” he muttered, walking away with his friend.

Myung-gi had looked at you with something akin to awe. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly.

You shrugged. “I wasn’t about to let them mess with you.”

From that moment, the two of you stuck together. You shared meals, sitting side by side as the reality of the games sunk in. He always made sure you had enough to eat, even offering you a portion of his food at times.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said one night as he pushed his bowl toward you.

“It’s fine,” he replied, a small smile on his lips. “You need your strength.”

His quiet protectiveness was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself growing more attached to him with each passing day.

A few minutes after his whispered compliment about your beauty, you leaned closer, your voice low. “Come with me to the bathroom.”

He blinked in surprise but nodded, curiosity evident in how he stared at you. The two of you slipped past the sleeping players and surprisingly indifferent guards. Once inside the bathroom, you led him into a stall and locked the door behind you.

“Myung-gi,” you breathed, leaning back against the wall, your eyes locking with his. His dark gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes, and before you could say another word, he closed the space between you, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was both soft and urgent.

His hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. The cold stall melted away, replaced by the heat radiating between you.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, his forehead pressing to yours.

“You think I’m not just as crazy about you?” you whispered back.

His lips curved into a small smile before he kissed you again, slower this time, as if savoring every second.

The attraction between you was impeccable, impossible to ignore despite the circumstances. His hands traced your sides, then down to your ass, and his lips pressed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered.

As the moment intensified, you pulled back slightly, catching your breath. His hands remained gentle on your waist, his gaze searching your face for any hesitation.

“You’re incredible, Myung-gi,” you said softly.

He smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. “And you’re all I think about, even in this hell hole.”

You were deeply attracted to him. You weren’t sure if you were just being codependent due to the harsh reality of the games and you needed something—someone to take your mind off it, or you just really liked him. Whatever it was, you didn’t care. All you cared about was him and possibly making it out alive. All you cared about was pleasing him, having him see you the way you saw him. So, you fell to your knees.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty,” he moaned as you pulled down his pants and boxers in one swift motion.

As you freed him, your lip caught in between your teeth. He was hard and thick, already leaking pre cum from his pink tip. With your gaze locked on his, you slowly took him into your mouth, lips and tongue gliding across the shaft. Myung-gi hissed as you took him further, your hands stroking what you couldn’t take down your throat.

“Fuck baby, just like that,” he rasped, his hand tangling in your curls.

His praises willed you on and you began bobbing your head steadily, saliva beginning to drip down your chin.

“You look so fucking good like this, on your knees for me,” he praised.

His grip tightened in your hair and you dug your nails into his thigh as he began to thrust into your mouth. Each time he did, the bulbous head would hit the back of your throat making you gag.

“I love hearing you gag on my dick,” he breathed, looking down at you, jaw agape.

Your tongue glided across the shaft as his thrusts grew more frantic and without warning, you felt something warm and salty shoot down your throat. He held your head down on his cock, your nose buried in his neatly trimmed pubic hair as you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. When he finally let go you swallowed and gasped for breath.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he said, pulling you up to your feet and placing a kiss on your lips.

While you were happy he felt that way and you were able to please him, something felt—off. But you couldn’t place your finger on it.

You felt Myung-gi’s warm breath on the nape of your neck as he whispered, “Turn around.” His voice was soft but carried a weight of authority that made your heart race but you turned to face the wall of the stall.

There was a sense of urgency in his touch as he rested his hands on your hips, pulling down your pants and your underwear, steadying you. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Trust me.” The closeness sent a shiver through you, and you let out a shaky breath, nodding.

You gasped loudly as you felt his hard cock tease your entrance, slowly slipping inside you, the stretch burning. He stared down at his cock that was covered in your cream as he pulled out of you, leaving only the tip inside. He slammed back in, your ass recoiling against him as you cried out.

“Quiet,” he whispered, his tone gentle but commanding. “You’re doing so well.” The words sent warmth rushing through you, and you felt his hand snake around to rest lightly at your throat. His other hand reached down, thumb stroking your clit in rough circles, and his lips pressed soft kisses to your shoulder.

His thrusts sped up, growing sloppier by the minute. Each time his cock disappeared inside you, it would hit your g spot making you shudder and bite back a moan. You pushed your ass back against him but it made him tighten his grip around your throat. He called the shots and you absolutely loved it.

“Cum with me,” he murmured against your skin, “squeezing my dick so fucking tight.”

He rolled his hips to meet yours and as you felt his cum spurt inside you, your own climax took ahold of you. You moaned his name like it was the only word you knew, the orgasm the best thing you had ever felt these past few days.

When the moment passed, Myung-gi’s forehead rested against your shoulder, his breathing uneven as he muttered a quiet, “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to cum inside you.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head to ease the awkwardness. “It’s fine,” you said with a smile. “Not like we need more problems right now.” He let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing through his hair as he looked at you with an apologetic smile.

With care, he helped you straighten up and quietly cleaned you off. You both slipped out of the bathroom and returned to the dormitory in silence, careful not to draw attention.

Back in your corner of the room, you lay down on the small bed, noticing how Myung-gi didn’t pull you into his arms as he had the nights before. He stayed near, but the space between you felt heavier than it should. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, his expression unreadable as he stared at the ceiling.

“Goodnight,” you whispered softly, hoping to ease the tension.

He nodded, but his response was delayed. “Goodnight,” he finally replied, his tone distant.

You turned over, staring at the other players and willing sleep to come. You didn’t want to overthink it—there was too much at stake in the morning—but a small part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. Still, you pushed the thoughts aside. You needed to rest. The next game wouldn’t wait for anyone.

The nerves in the dormitory felt heavier the next morning, though you couldn’t tell if it was because of the lingering tension from the previous night or the looming threat of the next game. Myung-gi sat across the room, his head bent slightly as he talked quietly with another player, a woman you hadn’t really noticed before. She clutched her stomach occasionally, her face pale and tired.

You tried to ignore it, focusing on your own nerves, but the way they spoke, close and hushed, stirred something bitter in your chest. When their conversation ended, you approached him, your tone light but curious.

“Who was that?” you asked, nodding in the woman’s direction.

He glanced at you briefly and shrugged. “Nobody.”

Nobody. The word lingered in your mind, sour and unconvincing, but you didn’t have time to push the matter.

The game that day was brutal, each second teetering on the edge of survival. You nearly lost your life more than once, the screams of other players ringing in your ears as you clawed your way through. Myung-gi, however, didn’t stay near you like he usually did. He stuck close to the woman—Player 222 and it wasn’t subtle. Every glance he threw her way, every time he stepped in to help her, made your blood boil.

By the time you both staggered back into the dormitory alive, you were too drained to confront him. But you couldn’t let it go. After seeing him ignore you all day, you decided to approach the woman instead.

She sat quietly in a corner, her hands protectively over her stomach. Forcing a small smile, you made your way over, trying to keep your tone friendly.

“Hey,” you began softly. “You did well out there. I know it wasn’t easy.”

She glanced up, offering a weak smile. “Thanks, you too.”

You hesitated, unsure how to broach the topic. “I, uh, noticed you and Myung-gi talking earlier. Do you know him well?”

Her expression faltered. She let out a heavy sigh, her hand instinctively going to her stomach again. “We used to,” she admitted. “A long time ago.”

You frowned, a pit forming in your stomach. “Used to?”

She nodded, her eyes dropping to the floor. “We were together. I got pregnant, and he, well, he wanted me to get rid of it.” She paused. “When I didn’t, he walked away. Scammed me too. I shouldn’t even be here,” she said, shaking her head.

You stared at her, stunned into silence as her words settled over you like a heavy weight. She noticed your expression and sighed again.

“Look,” she said, “I’m not telling you what to do. Make your own decisions. But don’t trust him. He told me he wanted to get out of this together.”

Your chest tightened, your thoughts racing. You swallowed hard, offering her a weak smile. “Thank you for telling me,” you said quietly. “Take care of yourself. And your baby.”

She nodded, giving you a small, grateful smile.

You found Myung-gi sitting alone, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. You marched over, your heart pounding in anger and disbelief.

“When were you going to tell me?” you demanded.

His eyes opened slowly, confusion flashing across his face. “Tell you what?”

“That your pregnant ex-girlfriend is here,” you snapped.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You talked to Jun-hee, didn’t you?”

“She told me everything,” you hissed. “How you wanted her to get rid of her baby, how you took her money. And now, what? You’re telling her you want to get out of this together? The same thing you told me?”

“Hey, calm down,” he said, his tone defensive. “It’s not like that.”

“Don’t,” you said sharply, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like I’m overreacting. You’ve been ignoring me all day, sticking by her side, and now I find out you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

“I didn’t lie to you,” he snapped back. “And don’t fucking say I used you.”

“Didn’t you?” you shot back, your voice rising. “You knew exactly what you were doing. And now you’re trying to downplay it like it’s nothing.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, okay? Things are complicated.”

“Complicated?” You let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t even care, do you? About me, about her. You’re just looking out for yourself.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. That silence was all the confirmation you needed.

“I’m done,” you said firmly, stepping back. “Don’t talk to me again.”

You turned and walked away, your chest aching as his voice called out faintly behind you. You didn’t stop. There wasn’t time for this, not here, not now. You had to focus on surviving, even if that meant doing it alone.