#is this...my first non plus size reader fic????

[lawrites]

Riddle to Solve

BTAS! Riddler x Named Female Reader

1.5k words: Reader hasn't seen Edward Nygma since they both lost their jobs at Competitron. Suddenly seeing him after two years forces a lot of unresolved feelings to come to the surface, for Eddie and Luna both. Did your feelings for each other matter then? Do they matter now?

This was made as a swap with an anonymous Discord friend <3. Their OC is named Luna, but this fic is first person and could be read as a "named" reader.

CW: suggestive thoughts from the rizzler, hurt/comfort, edward nygma being arrogant as per usual

“L-Luna?”

You turn, recognizing that voice almost instantly. “Eddie?”

The both of you stare at each other for a moment, almost making sure the other is real, before mirrored wide grins split your faces. The heart in your chest beats faster as you realize the expression is his genuine, real smile, the one only you could pull out of him. He's truly happy to see you.

Your bodies approach each other quickly, drawn like magnets. Your momentum almost makes you look like you are going in for a hug, your arms swinging forward…but you stop just shy of touching the other. 

You both sit in silence for a moment, taking the other in up close. A slight blush makes its way onto your face, but you can't help it. He looks good. His ginger hair is more loose than it had been when she had last seen him at Competitron. Fluffier, more free…it makes your hands twitch with the want to bury themselves in the shining, copper locks. His face remains as handsome as ever, with his adorable button nose, but his clothes…

He always wore a striped shirt with suspenders when she had worked with him. Cute, but more apt for Wall Street than what you expected of him. This outfit…your mouth goes dry when you take it in. 

A dark green sweater adorns his slight torso, loose on his body but tucked into tight grey slacks match his long overcoat. The lines of his clothes highlight his tall, lean body. He looks professional for the most part, aside from the purple driving gloves. You do your best to contain your thoughts about those before making eye contact with Ed once more. A feeling of satisfaction spreads through your body when you realize that his cheeks are reddening just as yours are. 

Ed is embarrassed about his own blush, if he could be frank. It started when he caught you just as you were walking away, recognizing your shape from behind almost instantly and calling out to you. While he doesn't want to admit that that was his reasoning for recognizing you, can you blame him? 

He had to wait behind you in enough queues, see you bent over enough desks in those tight skirts you wear, that he has an entire section of his mind dedicated to fantasies about your ass. Some days he had to actively keep himself from reaching out, winding his hands around you, and bringing you back against him just to feel that delicious curve. He kept it secret, of course, he did his best to keep things professional when you worked with each other.

But after the initial onslaught of familiar thoughts…Edward was blinded by the glow of your smiling face again as you turned, and that handily won out over anything else in his mind. Your gorgeous, dark hair was up in a ponytail today, shining in the sunlight and swinging behind you as you moved towards him.

He watched you adjust your glasses nervously with a blush after you stopped in front of him, and it filled his lonely heart with a glee he hasn't felt in more than a year. But he immediately chastises himself…he needs to do his best to keep distance from you. He still has plans he needs to fulfill, and he can't allow you to be involved. What if you were hurt, in the process? What if you saw what he's become in his exile? 

The voice that you remember being full of mischief, arrogance, and, dare you say it, warmth suddenly sounds distant and aloof. 

“Luna, it is…good to see you.”

Steadying yourself, you hold back your initial  reaction to his presence and instead analyze his words, his tone, and his body language. If that's all he has to say to you, after years apart, after radio silence…then you refuse to give him any reaction he may want. Your tone mirrors his-professional.

“Yes, Mister Nygma, it is nice to see you again after so long.”

You see how he goes almost stiff when you call him Mister Nygma, his back straightening and his eyes turning dark before his face becomes impassive. But, instead of letting him respond, you continue after a beat of silence, curiosity at his presence winning out over pettiness.

“What brings you to Gotham?”

His previous demeanor relaxes a bit, and he almost looks…nervous. 

“Oh! Well…I suppose I've always heard interesting whispers about this city. And with recent rumors I've been…drawn here for some reason. After everything that happened…”

He trails off, and you can tell his racing mind is reliving the trauma of losing it all in one day, just as you had. Competitron, as your former place of work, used to be everything to the both of you. Ed came up with all of the riddles, but you helped him with the art direction. Your mind would interpret his gorgeous thoughts into a visual reality, and the code you both worked on made it an actual reality, on screen at least. 

But then the layoffs started. First it was a few lower level people…and then a few close coworkers. And then…suddenly, you walked in one day and were told to pack your bags. Years of working for them, for giving it all to make the Minotaur game, and they just brushed you away. You still find yourself frustrated and angry about it, even after getting a new job. The only credit you received was a footnote at the end of the game. 

And Ed…well…it wasn't public news, but he gave Mockridge hell over both your sacking and the lack of royalties for your work. He was planning to sue them, for the both of you. And then…he was fired too. 

You heard the news and tried to call him, but he was just gone. And you haven't seen him for two years until just now, when Competitron has been rumored to be moving to Gotham. The coincidence is too much to ignore.

“Edward…”

He seems to startle at your use of his full name, something that you usually only did during arguments or serious conversations. 

“...I-I know that what Mockridge did to us hurt. I still have trouble getting over it, myself. But, don't let his heinous actions rule your life. I'm glad to see you, but if you're only here to harass our former boss-”

Ed stiffens again and cuts you off, “Well, I'm sorry that I can't get over that-that cretin taking credit for my work.” He spits out the words, moving closer to you almost in anger. 

You glare up at him, furious, now, “You mean our work. If you try to take even that from me after I lost my job and my L-” you stop yourself from admitting the truth of what you had felt for him, then. He notices your slip, but doesn't comment. “-my best friend…” your eyes are full of tears now. Frustrated tears. Dejected tears. How could he not notice you when you are right in front of him? What has blinded him for two years so much that he hasn't even sent a letter?

“...then I don't think we have anything else to discuss. I wish you well, Edward Nygma. B-be kind to yourself.” And you turn, prepared to leave. Two years apparently haven't changed your feelings towards him, if your racing, broken heart is any indication, but you've now realized you wasted that time pining for him after seeing him now. He is only focused on himself and what he lost…and maybe he always was. 

You are stopped, suddenly, from retreating by a gloved hand wrapping, gently, around your arm. “Luna…”

Chastising yourself for wasting even one more moment on someone who obviously won't even let you leave with your dignity, you freeze in place but don't turn. “I would prefer to go, Eddie.” You bite out the nickname that used to make him tease you, used to make him blush, even, just to get some petty revenge out of this horrid day. 

The hand on your arm trembles, and it makes you pause. You had planned to shake your arm out of his grasp and leave, quickly, to go cry in your apartment…but then you hear his voice once more. Quietly, almost whispering, Edward Nygma says, “Please.”

You almost collapse hearing the syllables leave his mouth, and turn to see the man that uttered them. In only the few moments between you turning to leave and his plea, Eddie was a changed man. His face is pale, and his expression looks pained. Green eyes that were closed off and arrogant are now surprisingly open, shining with an expression you can't name. 

“You did not deserve that reaction from me after all that we meant to each other. I'm sorry.”

Frankly? You are gobsmacked. Edward Nygma just apologized to you. At least he acknowledged and validated your feelings about his treatment of you…but it still feels like it isn't enough. “Eddie, I appreciate your apology, but I hope you can see that your behavior was not something I expect of a friend.”

You do end up wrenching your arm away from his grasp, making him wince. “If you want to come back into my life, after leaving me for two years-” your voice chokes out the last words, the reality of everything crashing in around you, “-and treat me like I was just a coworker, and not someone who you trusted, as I did you?”

A sniffle leaves you, trying to hold back your tears, “Then I would rather you save the honeyed, practiced words and just leave. I can't take you playing with my good will towards you, again.”

And as you are about to embarrass yourself and sob in front of him, emotionally confused, partly, but mainly sad…his arms bring you to him. You are enveloped in them. He keeps you there, for a moment. His steady breathing and calming, familiar scent ground you. And then, one of his gloved hands moves to the side of your head, gently leading you to look up at him, “No playing. No games. No riddles.” 

His green eyes are shining, “I am truly sorry. The moment you turned, I was reminded of the last time I had to see you go, the pain that came with it. I-I initially tried to push you away because I do have secrets, Luna.”

You try to talk, but he cuts you off, “I can't tell you about them…not now. But I can't let you walk away, again, either.” His expression is torn, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes full of desperation for some sort of answer to his quandary. 

Both of you are dancing around your feelings, for now. But…you can tell he does feel the same, truly, he must. You can't leave the man you love so desperately confused. Your hand reaches up, mirroring his hold on you and gently making him look down, “Then…let's just get some coffee together.”

His eyes are full of hope, gleaming with affection at your answer, “Do you still like it the same way?”

You chuckle, “Of course, I haven't changed much since you last saw me.” You blush, again, worried that standing still would make him lose interest in you, somehow. 

He releases you, and you do the same to him, but he stays close. His eyes trace up and down your body, sticking to your chest for just a moment before meeting yours once more. “Oh I don't know about that…”

He chuckles, holding out his hand for you to take, a smirk adorning his face, “...you seem changed. More sure, more independent.”

You take his hand, and you begin walking together to the nearest cafe. He winks, “A most brilliant riddle for me to solve.”

[baby-yongbok]

OnlyFans

Best Friend!Yang Jeongin x Afab!Reader

✦ Genre: Friends to Lovers - non-idol - [18+ Only]

✦ Content Description: 6.6k + 11 screenshots

✦ Summary: Your best friend finds out about your OnlyFans account which leads to you discovering how you really feel about him.

✦ CW: Unintentional exhibitionism(?), Unprotected sex [wrap it up party people] ✦ A/N: This is my FIRST Jeongin fic and I am hella excited! (and nervous) I really hope that you enjoy it! This is a hybrid of fake texts and story so make sure to open it all the way to see it all! AHH I'm so nervous.+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ ✧ Masterlist ✧

Sleep abandoned you after you and Jeongin spoke, your thoughts were everywhere and nowhere and your body was working against you. Why does the fact that your best friend thinks that you’re hot turn you on? Why are you imagining him touching himself to the sounds of you moaning while you fuck yourself?

 Is he big? 

How would he feel? 

Wait - how did he not recognize your voice? 

You never show your face, only the shoulders down, but you’ve uploaded voice notes. You’ve done tons of horny rambles that he had to have listened to. Okay, wait wait wait, does he only get off to you? He said that you’re the only girl that he follows on the site… Okay, stop, brain shut the fuck up. 

The next day you tried to operate how you normally would. You went to the gym, you got your morning coffee, you thought about Jeongin moaning at the sight of you, you screamed in your car and you went back home. Honestly, this is working out great. 

You did everything that you could to distract yourself from the unending thoughts. You did laundry, watched TV, skipped rope on your balcony, you even started color organizing your closet. That’s when your phones started ringing with that tone that you know all too well.

 You stared at it for what felt like a second, you tried to calm yourself down and cursed yourself out in your head for making this such a big deal. He said that he doesn’t care. He won’t mention it, he’ll just get off to your videos and that’s that. Jeongin is your best friend who finds you hot and touches himself to your videos, that’s so normal. You’re so normal about this. 

By the time you finally hyped yourself up to answer his call the phone stopped ringing and you let out a huff of heavy air that you weren’t even aware you were holding. You’ll call him back…later.

Not even three minutes later there’s knocking at your front door and you rush to open it. You’re expecting a package today so this must be it. You swing the door open and your heart jumps out of your chest and runs down the hall. “Are you okay?” 

Jeongin waves in front of your face to grab your attention as you stare at him, unmoving. “I called, you didn’t answer.” You clear your throat but end up choking a bit from how dry it is. You opt for nodding your head while you desperately swallow your spit to try and save you from further embarrassment. 

“Right, yeah yeah come in, what’s up?” You hastily stumble to the side as you open your door wider. He stalks in like he always does, comfortable and confident. “You have my green jacket, Felix hyung wanted to borrow it tonight.”

”I gave that back, didn’t I?” You smooth down your skirt, suddenly feeling super self conscious. He’s seen you in this exact outfit more times than you can count but it’s different this time, right? No, it’s not supposed to be different. We’re acting normal. We’re so normal about this.

”Noona?” His fingers wrap around your wrist and you jump out of your thoughts, literally. “Is everything alright? You keep spacing out.” 

Has his hand always been this damn big? That’s all that you can think to yourself as you stare down at where he’s holding you. “I’m fine, Jeongin,”

”You usually call me Innie.” He retorts with furrowed brows until it all clicks for him. “Is this about last night?” 

You pull away from him like he’s on fire and start power walking to your bedroom before he can say another word. “I’ll go look for that jacket.”

You slam your room door closed behind you and sink to the floor against it immediately after. This is crazy, you’re acting crazy and horny and - and - fuck, has his hand always been that big? 

Has he always called you noona that smoothly? Has he always been like… that?  Wait, no, pull it together. Find the jacket and send him away so you can spiral in peace. 

After about ten minutes of searching through the mess you made and battling your inner demons you find the jacket that Jeongin came for. When you leave your bedroom you expect to see him sitting on your couch but you find him in your kitchen instead. He’s washing your dishes while he hums some song that you’re sure that you could identify if you concentrated but you can’t think straight. Your brain isn’t working at all because your best friend is standing there, at your sink, washing your dishes… In only a white tank top and gray sweatpants. 

Your eyes find the discarded sports sweater he arrived in thrown sloppily over one of your counter stools before they quickly return to Jeongin’s toned back. This shirt should be illegal. He shouldn’t be allowed to look this good. 

You stand there, jacket in hand and thighs pressed together while you try to muster up the courage to say something, anything. Just as you’re about to speak he turns around with a cup full of water but it’s only full for a second before he jumps with a scream and pours it all over himself.

”Ya, noona!” He huffs, bracing himself against the counter. “What the hell? You scared the life outta me.” He drops the now empty cup into the sink and braces himself with both hands against the marble. 

“Why are you just standing there?” You don’t even hear his question. You can’t hear anything except for the fast beating of your heart and incoherent screaming from your last brain cell as you take in the sight before you. 

The front of his shirt is soaked and you can see right through the fabric sticking to each and every dip and contour of his unbelievable body. Has he always been… so hot? ��Noona, seriously, what is going on with you? Do we need to talk about something?” 

He steps towards you and you take a clumsy step back. “I uh, found the jacket.” You sit the jacket on the stool where his sweater is then look back at him. You look him in the eyes this time to avoid possibly fainting but you quickly discover that his gaze is just as intoxicating. 

“Forget the jacket, I’m trying to figure out if -“ He takes another step towards you and you take two back. 

“Okay, so I’ll see you later, right? Awesome, later Innie.” You rush back to your bedroom just as he takes another step to try to stop you. You slam the door shut and repeat the same routine as earlier. When did he get so hot?

What the fuck? Did he just ask you if you like it?…Why is the answer yes? Why does that make every thought that you’ve been thinking for the past 12 hours way worse? You gotta pull it together, you can’t let a simple question cause you to spiral. He probably didn’t even mean it like that…right?

You spend the next three hours trying to forget that text. You take a shower and cook yourself a dinner that you barely even touch because it’s not what you want. It’s not him, do you want him? 

You drag yourself to your bedroom after you stuff your leftovers in the fridge and plop down on your bed. You scream into your mattress once or twice before you decide that you can’t take it anymore, you need to do something. Anything. 

Before you can even really think about it you’re in your closet that should honestly count as a second bedroom but you're fine with it being your mini studio. This is where you’ve filmed every video, where you capture every picture and record every ramble. This is where you are when you make the content that Jeongin loves. Maybe he’ll love this too.

You make yourself a bit comfortable in front of the large mirror on the wall and turn on your voice recorder. “Hey there…Do you have a second? I just wanna get something outta my head.” 

You settle into the fluffiness of your bean bag chair and spread your legs in front of the mirror. Your pajama shorts ride up a bit and the thin gusset exposes just enough of your cunt for you to take in. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, yeah you. I can’t get you off of my mind and it’s driving me crazy.” 

You sigh into your phone, glancing down at the recorder to make sure that it’s still running. Your free hand runs over the scarf tying your hair back and trails down the side of your neck. Your fingers brush over your sweet spots slowly and carefully kinda how you think he would do it.

”I want you.” It’s more of a whisper than you intended but you keep going. “I want you so badly that it’s driving me mad. I bet you know that though, don’t you?”

You nearly say Jeongin’s name at the end of that sentence and you nearly moan it into the air when your fingers brush over your nipples. “Tell me that you thought about me too.” 

Your hands start moving faster, grazing your covered and exposed skin with a hungry haste that you’re sure that Jeongin would recreate. He’d explore you with a lust driven by curiosity and desire. He’d rip you apart and take his sweet time putting you back together. He’d be rough and gentle, slow and fast, shallow and deep. He’d be everything.

You didn’t even realize that you were still talking into the recorder when your eyes snap open. You have no clue what you’ve said and you have no clue when you started rubbing at your clit but you don’t care. Moans are tumbling from your chapped lips as drool threatens to spill over the corners.

There’s nothing but pure carnal desire lingering around you and it’s all for your best friend. All for a man that you’ve never looked twice at until today, or have you? You always knew that Jeongin was attractive. You always felt a tingle when he’d hold you or play around with you but you’ve learned to push it down. It was manageable until last night. That’s when the dam broke.

”In- I - I need you.” You almost said it, almost let it slip. “Touch me please, please.”

Your fingers are slipping inside before you can even process it. You’re stroking up against your g-spot at a pace that should be painful but you feel nothing but bliss because you’re thinking of nothing but him. Him him him. 

The slick sounds of your cunt are loud enough to be caught on the recorder but you wouldn’t be surprised if they’re completely overshadowed by your moans. “Make me cum, please please please, m’ gonna cum.” 

Your vision is going white before you can even take a deep breath, it gets caught in your throat as you cry out. You’re panting, mumbling curses left and right and then right as you’re ending the recording it finally slips. “Innie”

After sitting and staring at your reflection for maybe thirty minutes you finally pulled yourself up off of your bean bag chair and freshened up. You plopped down onto your bed face first and screamed, this seems to be becoming a routine. 

Once you get a grip you sit up against your pillows and stare at the new audio. How could you make this while thinking about Jeongin? Are you a terrible friend? Can you blame him for being hot? Can you say that it’s all his fault and just live life hating him for ever finding your account? No, I mean, yeah you could but that would be stupid.

You load the audio into your Only Fans account and put together the new post. You usually wouldn’t think twice about uploading a ramble, you’d usually listen to it in your headphones to check the quality and then throw it online for your subscribers to enjoy but this one feels different. This one feels wrong to post. After a bit of debating you take a deep breath and go for it. It can’t be that bad right?

Nevermind

It’s been about an hour since you posted the audio and it’s gotten back to back likes and comments. You’ve even gotten some chat requests with tips that you plan to reply to later but the one that just came in caught your attention. 

You don’t know what it is about it, maybe it’s the username or the energy behind their message but you’re almost a thousand percent positive that it’s Jeongin on the other side of this chat. 

You sound so pretty in your new audio. You’re really fueling my imagination tonight. I.2.n.8 Sent a tip 

You stare at the message for so long that you forget to blink. This is so obviously him. The user name is a dead giveaway. Jeongin is messaging you about your new ramble… you shouldn’t reply.

Fuck.

You replied. You replied and you flirted so fucking hard that you’re sure that he’s blushing in his bed just like you are right now. You’ve talked to plenty of guys like this. You flirt and make them feel special and then boom more tips but you don’t even care about the money right now, not when you’re having so much fun texting - sexting - the only man that’s been on your mind. Your best friend. 

When you see Jeongin the next day at a small get together you expect it to be awkward. You expected for him to give you knowing looks from across the crowded restaurant table but he didn’t. He acted completely normal like he hasn’t been sexting his best friend for the past eight hours. 

You tried your best to mimic his demeanor. You spoke to him as normally as you possibly could and as the night went on it got easier to ignore the elephant in the room. You stole some food off of his plate and even sang karaoke with him at the bar that you went to afterwards. You almost forgot about the messages, until you got home. 

Care to help me with a situation, sweetie? I’ll make it worth it, I promise. I.2.N.8 Sent a tip

Holy Fuck, that’s a big tip… like, money… that kind of tip. You sat on the edge of your bed with a messy cocktail of cheap liquor running through your veins and giving you confidence to do things that will surely have you screaming into your mattress later, and not in the way that you really want. 

You strip down and head to your closet, clicking a few pictures in poses that you’ve never tried before and some that are your tried and true classics. You hold your breath as you organize the album and attach a price to it. If he really wants to see it he can pay, you’ll be needing the money to fund your therapy sessions after this anyway cause this teasing is driving you insane.

Right when you send the set to the ‘mystery’ guy a text from Jeongin drops down into view and you’re instantly covered in goosebumps.

Ayen 🥐❣️: I had fun with you today, missed you. Ayen 🥐❣️: I work late tomorrow but I’m free the day after, wanna come over?

This is suspicious… right? You should decline. Yeah definitely decline, you don’t wanna risk anything happening that could ruin your friendship. 

You’re screaming into your mattress again.

 You accepted the invitation as you were thinking about declining it. 

You never stood a chance. 

You don’t sleep, instead you plan a cute but chill outfit to wear when you go over to his place. It’s not a date but you still wanna be cute, this isn’t weird. This is normal. 

What’s not normal is the way that you’ve been glued to your phone since this chat with Jeongin popped up. You’re not neglecting your other messages but you do spend extra time on his chat. You give him exclusive content that barely costs a thing and you’re fucking enjoying it. You’re addicted. So much so that when you get to Jeongin’s house the next day for your hang out it’s all that you can think about.

You’ve been here for about an hour and a half. You thought that it was just gonna be you and Jeongin. You thought that it was gonna be a nice best friend date. It’s not. 

“You seriously never saw that video before?” Jisung asks Felix with a mouth half full of whatever he ordered a bit ago. You’re sitting next to Jeongin on the couch with his roommate Seungmin next to him and his other roommate Felix on the floor with Jisung. ”Never.”

They fall into some conversation that everyone seems to be paying attention to but you. You’re too busy staring at your blacked out phone screen as you try to cope with the fact that you’re sitting next to the man that you’re secretly sexting. 

He hasn’t made anything weird just like he promised, everything is fine. You just need to calm - what the fuck?

Your phone chimes and your screen lights up to show a browser notification. An OnlyFans notification. You look over to the man next to you to catch him stuffing his phone in his pocket while he laughs at something that Felix said. Did he seriously just text you?

He did. You open your browser and the message is right there. Staring at you while you stare at him.

Bet you’re lookin’ so pretty today, sweetie.  I.2.n.8 Sent a tip Mind showing me what you’re wearing today? 

You gulp down the spit pooling in your mouth and choke a bit but you hide the cough well, you think. Why would he text you now? Why here? Maybe this is a good chance to see if it’s really him. Yeah, this is your chance. 

You type the cutest reply you can think of while your heart does the cha cha slide in your chest and hit send. You hold your breath as you wait for the ding but you’re choking once again when you actually hear it. 

Jeongin reaches into his pocket and smiles down at his phone. He doesn’t unlock it. He doesn’t check the message. But you know what he does? He fucking smiles at you. 

“You okay, noona? You’re spacing out again.” Seungmin is replying before you can even open your mouth. 

“Maybe if you actually spoke to her instead of texting that OnlyFans girl she wouldn’t have to daydream.” The other two instigate Seungmin’s teasing and Jeongin only rolls his eyes with a smile. 

“You’d be obsessed with her too if you’ve seen what I’ve seen” He settles back into the cushions a bit, extending his arm to the back of the couch behind you. He feels so much closer to you like this, or maybe it’s just because he’s talking about you to all of your friends. “She’s worth obsessing over.”

“Share her account then.” You jump a bit at the suggestion, it was quick but it was enough to gain Felix and Jisung’s attention. Jeongin is the opposite of you. He isn’t phased by the suggestion one bit, he just smiles down at his lap and shakes his head. “Nope, she’s a treasure that I plan to keep to myself.”

Seungmin scoffs and the other two start with the teasing again but Felix’s gaze keeps floating back to you. You try your best to relax, no one knows that you’re the OnlyFans girl so they aren’t actually talking about you. But this on top of Jeongin texting you while sitting right next to you is starting to be too much.

“Yeah yeah, tease all you want, I’m getting a drink.” Jeongin asks if anyone else wants anything from the kitchen and collects requests from almost everyone except for you. You just sit there quietly staring at your lap, quietly dying inside until the burning in your chest gets your feet moving. 

“I’ll be back.” You mumble but only Felix replies, he’s the only one that heard you and his eyes follow you as you take the same path that Jeongin did a second ago.

Your friend is looking into the open fridge when you get to the kitchen. He’s grabbing a bottle of water when he notices you come around the corner.

“Hey, did you want -“ 

“Not here.” You whisper through clenched teeth, it’s quick and quiet enough for you to get the point across and then escape. “Do not message me here, are you insane?” Jeongin closes the fridge, water bottle in hand and a grin on his lips.

”What?” You look back to make sure that you’re still alone before stepping closer to him. ”Do not text me here.”

”Why would I be texting you when you’ve been right next to me?” He sips from the bottle in his hands before sitting it down. “I think that you’re confused about -“

”You’re I.2.n.8, I know you are. You’re the one who’s been tipping me and texting me on OF for days.” Jeongin looks down at the tile in an attempt to hide the smug grin on his face. “You promised not to make it weird.”

”I kept my promise.” He shrugs, looking back up at you with a different gaze, a darker one. “I haven’t made anything weird. I haven’t brought it up. It’s you who thinks that I’m texting you.”

He steps closer, leaving little room between you two. You can feel your face getting hot, the temperature is rising with each second that your eyes are on his. Your thighs press together and you take it as a desperate plea from your body but you don’t know what for. “ Do you want it to be me texting you?” 

The air feels too thick with him so close, you can’t breathe. It’s too much. You turn away, desperate to retreat back to your safe space on the couch but he grabs your wrist before you can escape. 

His other hand finds your waist and guides your back against the marble counter next to the fridge. “Don’t run away from me again, noona.” There’s barely an inch between you two and the air feels dry at this point. Your tongue feels too heavy to control in your mouth so you dip it out to skate across your bottom lip. Jeongin watches the movement carefully, too carefully.

”Tell me, do you want it to be me, hm?” He shifts, caging you between his arms as he leans against the counter. You catch the flex of his muscles from the corner of your eye and it makes you feel dizzy, what is going on? “Do you want it to be me who tells you how badly I wanna ruin such a pretty thing like you?” 

You bite back a groan and sink into the surface behind you. He steps forward, now impossibly close as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Is that what you want, sweetie?”

Oh fuck, it is him. It’s really him.

”Jeongin, we can’t” You’re whispering to him so he whispers back. “Can’t what? What are you thinking about? I’ve only asked you a question.”

”You can’t be this close to me.” Your words feel forced and your limbs feel heavy as you try to find a way to settle against him. “This isn’t right.”

”Yeah? So you touching yourself in your closet and moaning my name is fine? But this isn’t right?” Your eyes widen the second those words leave his mouth, how did he know that you film in your closet? He’s been there a couple of times of course, he’s sat in your bean bag chair and he’s helped you pick out outfits but he never knew that you do Only Fans. So if he knows that you’ve been filming in your closet that means he recognized it from one of your videos… which means that he also had to have recognized you. 

“You knew that it was me the whole time didn’t you?” Your eyes flick from his to his lips and back up. “You knew that it was my account.” His lips spread into a wide mouth smile as he mimics your previous pattern with his dark pupils. 

“Maybe I did.” He moves his hand to your arm, running his fingers over the exposed flesh of your wrist. Every touch feels like fire as the pads of his fingers glide up your forearm. “Maybe I hoped it was you.”

His fingers press into your flesh every so slightly, it’s enough to make you shift into a firmer press of your thighs. “Maybe I only subscribed to the account because it looked like you.”

His fingers take their time going over the curve of your shoulder. They tease the strap of your top for a second, before dancing up the curve of your neck. “Guess I got lucky, huh?”

That was what tipped the bucket. That is what had you crashing your lips to his and wiping that smug smile off of his face in an instant. He moans into your mouth before you can moan into his, his hand cups your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand grabs at your waist.

It’s heated and sloppy. He feels just as desperate as you do with every clumsy swipe of his tongue over yours. You’re panting into his mouth, only pulling away for half a second to breathe before you’re tasting him again. 

Your hands grab at his flexing arms, scratching and kneading the flesh before you move to make fists into the fabric of his shirt. He feels unreal, he’s more than what you dreamed of. He feels so strong and soft and he tastes like lust itself.

You press your body further into his, taking in the matching thump of his heart to yours as your lips move in an impossible rhythm. It’s clear that you both feel the same hunger, the same longing, the same need for each other. Maybe this was driving him insane too.

“Jump.” His command is muffled and wet against your lips but you understand him and swiftly obey. His hands move to the back of your thighs to help you up onto the counter and he briskly fills in the space between your parted legs with his slim waist. 

You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands wander up your clothed thighs, his fingers dig into the plush flesh with a deep groan. “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve thought of this?” He trails kisses over your cheek and over the shell of your ear. 

“I watched every video.” He moves down the curve of your neck, nipping and kissing the flesh to milk moans from your parted lips. “I listened to every audio. I saved every picture.” 

He sucks bruises into your clavicle, licking over the rising cherry marks and planting sloppy kisses. “But none of that is as good as this.” You’re panting and moaning into his ear. Words don’t make sense. They jumble and disappear behind your eyes with each rough grab and desperate lick. 

“Do you feel as good as you look, sweetie?” Your eyes flutter open when he pulls back from your neck. Both of your lids are low and your eyes have a lustful haze fogging them. “Can I please feel you?”  His hands explore you while you fight with your tongue to form words. They skim over your curves and make you feel like you’re electric. You’ve wanted this, you wanted this so badly. 

“We shouldn’t.” Your mouth forms the wrong words and you curse yourself for it. Jeongin just nods at you, hands still exploring your body until they reach your breast. He cups them, squeezing a bit and running his thumbs over your hardened nipples. 

“We shouldn’t” He repeats after you, massaging your breast more intensely and pressing the prominent bulge in his sweatpants firm against your cunt. Your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut.

“We can’t” It comes out as a moan as he leans in and sucks on the flesh on the other side of your neck. Your fingers rake through his hair and he groans at the slight tug you give. “You’re my best friend.” 

“Don’t worry about making things weird.” He whispers between kisses to the shell of your ear. “Just worry about what you want.”

He pulls away again, fox eyes staring into yours. “You’re not gonna lose me, don’t worry.” Your eyes search his for a second and you can feel your resolve breaking. 

 “Touch me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper but he heard you, he’s just going to act like he didn’t. “Say it again.”

“Touch me, Innie, please. I wan’ it.” His hand is slipping down the front of your shorts in an instant. Everything is back to being clumsy and rough, fast and desperate. He moans when the pads of his fingers run over your slick folds.

“No panties, sweetie?” His eyes roll back and he bites at his bottom lip to try to control himself. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He hooks his fingers into the side of your shorts and starts trying to work them down your thighs. “I need you, it’s driving me mad.” 

You lift up for him and when you come back down his lips are on yours. “You’re driving me insane.” He whispers against your spit slick lips, his forehead is pressed to yours as his fingers roam your slippery cunt. He covers you in your own slick, dipping in and out of your folds and teasing your waiting hole.

“Please, no teasing, I can’t take it.” He rubs your clit, once then twice before slipping back down. “Innie, please I’ll be so good. I’ll be so good for you please just fuck me.” 

He pushes a finger into you slowly, taking in the soaked warmth that he caused. This is all because of him and his cock twitches at the thought. You moan and arch your back, your nails dig into his forearms as he moves. His rhythm is steady and unfamiliar, it makes your body sing in a way that no one else ever has.

“You’re so tight, noona. So wet.” His eyes are glued to where his finger is disappearing inside of you. He adds another, pushing in slowly before taking his previous pace. “Oh fuck, this is how it looks when you fuck yourself. When you take those toys and stuff your cunt. Shit, it’s so hot.”

You’re grinding into his hand, meeting his fingers when they fill you to the knuckle. Your tongue is poked between your teeth in an attempt to keep yourself quiet but you’ve already failed. Each thrust is met with a whining whimper that Jeongin eats up like candy. 

“Innie, Innie, c-can you curl them please? Curl your fingers inside of - holy shit, yes yes yes.” He watches your eyes roll back as your orgasm builds and builds. 

“Did you think of me?” His voice is thick with lust as he watches you. “When you made your last audio, did you think about me?” You’re shaking your head before you can even filter the question. You admit it shamelessly as you chase your high that’s dangling in front of you.

“Yes, I did I did, I thought of you.” Your orgasm rushes up your legs and blurs your vision with one more stroke of his fingers but he’s pulling out before you can ride it out. You whimper at the loss but a gasp quickly follows when you’re filled with something thicker.

“I know.” He moans, bracing himself against the cabinet behind your head as he pushes into you. “You said my name in the audio, you know that?”

He bottoms out with a groan, your cunt is spasming around him as your previous orgasm rips through you but you can already feel another one building as the first one subsides. His other hand settles at the nape of your neck and he pulls you in for a searing kiss. 

You can’t breathe being this full of him. With his tongue exploring your mouth and his cock stretching your walls. It feels like you're suffocating in the most delicious way. “Shit, your pussy takes - takes me so well.”  You can feel his control dissolving. It’s evident in the way he pants against you and how his dark eyes droop lower and lower with each unsteady pull of his hips.

“I wanna take my time with you.” He whispers against your lips. “I wanna but I can’t.” He’s whining, moaning and cursing into the air as he drags against your walls. You can’t even really hear him if you’re being honest. Between the sloppy sounds of your cunt being fucked, the rapid beating of your heart and ringing in your ears you’re completely clocked out. Utterly brain-dead. 

“Please, let me hear you. Please, I wanna know what you sound like when I fuck you.” Your voice shakes with a moan of his name as he switches his pace. His thrusts become faster and deeper, his breathing ragged, he’s doing his best to fuck you how he’s seen you fuck yourself. He’s doing his best to ruin you the same way that he imagined every time that he’d jerk his cock to your content.

 “More more more, please. Deeper, I wan’ it deeper.” His hands move to your thighs at your request and he pulls your ass to the very edge of the counter. He supports your legs on either side of him while you brace yourself against the side of the fridge. 

He pushes into you until his pelvis is flush against you. Every single thick inch of him is buried inside of you. Your pussy swells around him, squeezing him so perfectly that he lets his head fall forward with a moan. The hand that isn’t against the fridge balls the fabric of his shirt against his chest and slowly pulls it up until his torso is exposed to you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Your eyes snap shut once you feel him twitch inside of you. You let your hand run over his toned core, taking in every firm dip from under his fallen shirt. “Move, please. Please, Innie.”

“‘M gonna cum if I move.” His voice is strained as he rummages for any last bit of self control but he’s lost it all. He pulls back slowly, swirling his hips to hit every spot that you could imagine and more. Your pussy clenches around him as he sinks back in and he nearly busts at the feeling.

“I can feel you in my fucking stomach.” That’s all that you had to say to break him. That’s all that you had to say to have him pushing deeper into you then pulling back with every intention of ruining you. The only sound that you can hear is skin against skin decorated by your harmonizing moans.

 His eyes are shut tight as he moves, he’s biting his tongue, trying his best not to whine and moan like he does into his hand while watching your videos. You on the other hand are loud. You’re so fucked out and dazed that you can barely remember where you are. You couldn’t answer the first question asked to you even if you tried, the only thing that you can think of right now is Jeongin. Everything is him. Him, him, him.

“Innie ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me. Gonna make me cum, fuck fuck fuck.” You scratch into his abs, leaving pretty red marks for him to remember this moment. Your head falls back as you float in the feeling of being dumb with pleasure. His hips slam into you at their own accord and you just take it. You let him fuck you just how he wants, just how you need it. 

“Cum, please cum. You feel too good. sweetie. Gonna make me cum.” His thrusts become more frantic, his movements more erratic. Your body is trembling and your mind is blank. A familiar fuzziness takes over your vision as you lose control, you welcome it. You savor it and quietly beg for more. “Cum on my cock, noona.”

He’s begging and you’re complying. Your vision blurs with a hazy white, your breathing hitches, and your body trembles with pleasure. You’re more than positive that your damn near screaming his name as he fucks you through what might be the most intense orgasm of your life. “That’s it, Thank you for your cum. Thank you.” 

His fingers dig into your thighs as his thrusts become unpredictable. He can’t take much more and he knows it. As much as he wanted to savor you he just can’t help but to get lost in the way you feel. He can swear that you were made for him. “Oh fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming.” With one final thrust he’s pulling out and milking his cock of thick ropes of white that settle on your inner thigh and drips down to frame your glistening cunt. 

He slumps forward, forehead resting against yours as you both pant hot and heavy satisfaction into the air. The silence is loud, almost louder than your pounding heart and racing thoughts as your eyes flutter open to meet Jeongin’s.

You stare at each other, it’s soft and almost comfortable but there’s still this looming uneasiness in your chest that makes you feel like you made a big mistake. It makes you feel like you just lost something. “Here.” He speaks first, pulling back from you to reach for the water bottle that he had earlier.

“Drink this, please.” He’s gentle as he opens the bottle and raises it to your lips. He tips your head back with a bent finger and turns the bottle up for you. “Are you okay?”

You swallow hard, panting for another second before you try nodding your head but you don’t know what to tell him. “Hey.” He grabs your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts for a second and calming you with his touch. “Everything’s alright. We didn’t ruin anything.” 

He smiles softly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that you can’t help but melt into. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you’re just nervous to confront all of this, maybe you’re just scared to admit to yourself that you want him. You want him so badly and so much more.

He pulls back and you sigh, nodding your head with a whisper. “I’m okay.” 

“Let me clean you up and we can talk?” He starts fixing himself up and you can’t help but to snort a laugh. “I feel like we did this in reverse order.”

He smiles as he moves over to the sink. “Yeah, maybe.” The two of you laugh softly as he wets a couple of paper towels. It’s quiet again. It's comfortable. Everything will be alright.

“Your bedroom is literally right down the hall, you couldn’t fuck there?” Seungmin yells to the two of you and you freeze, Holy fuckaroni, you forgot that they were here. 

“You never even brought me my drink!” Jisung follows and Jeongin rolls his eyes and comes back over to you with the paper towels. Felix yells right after Jisung and you can’t help but to break out into laughter with Jeongin as he cleans you up. 

“Are you two not confused that they just fucked? Is it just me?.” 

Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

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[sundrop-writes]

BRAINWASHED

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

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

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

Summary:

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

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

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

Word Count: 8,000

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

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

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

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

...

Stiles was hopeless. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That night, you had become his hero. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He tried not to act like it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again - he was hopeless. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, uh-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

His little secret piece of you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And what else could he do but obey? 

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

He was a man of simple, divine tastes. 

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

“Stiles, please.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Though he knew that would never fucking happen. 

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

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

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

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

Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole. 

But what would they smell like? 

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

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

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

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

He could always imagine the other aspects so well. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me, Stiles.” 

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

Fuck. He had fucked up. 

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

… 

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

The only problem? 

Hang to dry. 

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

… 

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

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

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

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

Focus, Stiles. Focus. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything.” 

Stiles groaned.

...

A/N: Yes, there is a sequel for this fic in my drafts. It is something that I worked on during my hiatus. It's 10k long, and it's pretty much done.

If you would like to see the sequel edited and posted in a timely manner, I would like to see at least 30 reblogs and 25 comments on this fic - in the form of replies or anon asks.

102 people liked the preview for this fic and I know a lot of people are interested in it, so I am only asking for a 1/4 of the people who liked the preview to interact this fic before I release the sequel. But please, keep comments to the content of this fic rather than just asking for the next part to be released.

If you want to be tagged in the next part, you can ask to be put on my Teen Wolf taglist by interacting with this post, but please know that if you don't follow my taglist rules, you will be removed from the taglist promptly. If that happens, you are still welcome to read and enjoy future fics, you just won't be included in my taglists ever again.

Happy reading, and I hope you enjoyed the fic!!

[bangtanintotheroom]

Just Like Candy (M)

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

🔊 candy - doja cat (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: S.Coups x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 7.3k

• Summary: Following a breakup, Seungcheol is looking for a distraction for the night. You catch his eye with your red lips and the rest is history.

• Warnings/themes: mentions of a breakup, sulky Cheol 🥲, his friends are real ones, drinking, swearing, one night stand, flirting, making out, dirty talk, handjobs, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), c*me swallowing, strength kink, manhandling, hint of begging, OC’s lips are often compared to 🍒

• Notes: Welp, here it is; my first Cheol fic! I didn't plan to take this long to finish, but between work, getting sick and my bestie's birthday, ya girl has been busyyy 🥲 but here he is, so enjoy! 🎉 much thanks to @hobeemin for the beta! 💖

Seungcheol was barely paying attention to his friends' conversation, trying desperately not to go onto his ex’s Instagram and check her recent stories. But every time his thumb hovers over the multi-colored circle with her smiling face, the recent events play through his mind. It leaves a bitterness on his tongue, which ends up with him closing the app for what must have been the fifth time.

“Hyung, get off of there.”

He looked up to see Wonwoo giving him a stare of sternness mixed with worry, feeling sheepish that he was caught red-handed. Then again, he must have noticed earlier and only chose to say something now.

“Sorry.”

Wonwoo sighed, leaning in and speaking lowly, “If you keep going on there, I’m going to confiscate your phone.”

Seungcheol’s brows knitted at the warning.

“And what if someone tries to reach me?”

“Then I’ll give it back, but until then, you won’t have phone privileges.”

He couldn’t help but click his tongue. As annoying as the threat was, he secretly appreciated Wonwoo’s way of keeping him from doing something he might regret, like reaching out to his ex less than two weeks later rather than continuing to play it cool.

It wasn’t heartbreak, per se, just a loss of familiarity and a routine that bothered him. He was used to checking up on her at certain times, often receiving the same energy back. Plus, the lack of cuddling and deficiency of sex was about to start making him restless.

He appreciated the tough love because the rest of the men in the car showed their support by dragging him to an unruly house party that he wasn’t even sure he’d enjoy.

“Yah, is he on his phone again?”

Wonwoo replied to Seungkwan’s question from the front with, “He sure is.”

Every other occupant groaned in exasperation, Chan peering around him to scold, “Seungcheol-hyung, focus! You’re supposed to have fun with us tonight, not pine over her!”

“Just block her already!”

Seungcheol quickly snapped at Joshua’s quip, “No, because then I’ll look bitter.”

“So?”

Seungkwan turned around in the passenger seat to look directly at him, seeming to be about to give the most unhelpful advice ever.

“Hyung, you want my suggestion?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Fuck her feelings, respectfully—” He was quick to throw in that word after the elder’s face began twisting in displeasure. “—she decided to end it, and she’s out there living her best life while you’re moping around. Be selfish for once and focus on your well-being!”

Chan joined in, “Exactly! Are you going to let her distract you from having a good time with us tonight?”

The eldest wanted to fight back on instinct, but the more he stewed on his friends’ words, the more he realized they had a point. What was the use of getting in his feelings? He’d just end up being the downer of the group and waste the effort they put in to have him get dressed and come out. Even though it had been a while since he went to a party of this size, the tiniest part of him was excited. His ex was the type to avoid get-togethers like this, so he often put off the guys’ invites in favor of pleasing her.

But she wasn’t around anymore…

He sighed heavily. Hopefully, he’d be distracted enough that she wouldn’t run through his mind until he returned to his bed and deleted more of their couple pictures.

“No, I’m not.”

His response was met with a round of cheers, drowning out the hip-hop blaring from the speakers.

“That’s the spirit!”

Joshua took advantage of the red light to turn and shoot a proud smile.

“We just want you to have fun, yeah? So quit sulking.”

Seungcheol did himself no favors by narrowing his eyes and pushing his lower lip out.

“I’m not sulking.”

As expected, Joshua gave an eye roll amidst the chorus of laughter, turning back around to continue driving. Seungcheol decided to get more involved in the conversation for the rest of the trip, only glancing at his phone for notifications. Not once did he hop onto Instagram, choosing to entertain a heated debate over who would be the first casualty tonight. His money was on Seungkwan, who fought against the accusation with insistence.

Either way, he hoped his friends continued to distract him for the rest of the night like this.

The plan to distract Seungcheol was going poorly. Actually, no. Poorly was an understatement.

It was going horrendously.

Everything was fine when they stepped into the party. It was easy to get accustomed to the noise and the crowd of bodies, especially once a red cup was shoved into his hand. One of his favorite songs was even playing, his foot automatically tapping to the beat while listening to Joshua and Chan converse.

But it went horribly awry when a drunk Seokmin and Soonyoung bounded up to them, asking where his other half was.

His reaction was as instantaneous as his friends’, yet more subtle. Seungcheol tensed up and clenched his jaw, fingertips making a dent in the plastic cup. Of course, the duo was too far gone to see his sudden change in mood; they only blinked in confusion when Seungkwan began yelling at them for their goof. Just as Wonwoo started explaining why their greeting was poorly thought out, the eldest quickly excused himself, turning and making a beeline for the much less crowded kitchen.

He wasn’t sure if he needed something more substantial to drink or to remove himself from a messy situation. Either way, he ended up staring blankly into the icy assortment of beers in front of one of the many coolers.

So much for distracting himself tonight.

“Excuse me?”

A steady voice brought him out of his wallowing, looking over his shoulder to see a young woman standing behind him, pointing to the cooler.

“Mind if I get in there?”

“O-Oh. Sorry.”

Seungcheol swiftly stepped aside, feeling a bit abashed at getting in the way. You didn’t seem to mind too much though, sending a smile as you squatted down to begin rummaging through your options.

“Indecisive?”

He blinked at your query.

“Huh?”

You continued speaking while rifling through, “You were staring down here for a hot minute.”

Oh shit, was he? Damn. He must have looked like a party pooper, no doubt sulking as he tried to get himself back into a festive mood.

“Uh, yes, let’s call it that…”

A giggle escaped at the unconvincing reply. Within a few seconds, you popped back up with two different-looking bottles in each hand.

“Are you more of a fruity or bitter kind of guy?”

“Bitter.”

You held out one of the beers, waiting until he took it with a bit of confusion mixed with gratitude.

“Thank you…”

“Of course. You look like you need it.”

Seungcheol huffed, shoulders sagging a bit as he smiled pensively.

“That bad, huh?”

A nod was given, albeit paired with a sympathetic look.

“Yeah.”

He sighed at your observation, the urge to crawl away and hide in a corner until the party ended coming strong. This was another thing he wanted to avoid: the pity people would give him. In the words of Chan, he looked like a lost puppy whenever he caught him thinking about his ex. Surely, that’s what you were reminded of as you continued to gaze up at him.

“My friends dragged me here to distract me from…recent events, but I don’t think it’s working very well.”

“I can see that. I rarely see people not enjoying themselves at one of Seokmin’s parties.”

Your words might have had sincerity, but Seungcheol could only feel more insecure. He stuck out like a sore thumb; that was the last thing he wanted to happen tonight.

Just as he was about to excuse himself to wallow in misery, you asked something that caught him off-guard.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but blink rapidly, ensuring he didn’t mishear you.

A complete stranger offering an ear?

“No, I couldn’t burden you; I’m sure you came to have fun.”

But you were undeterred, shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s fine, really. I could use some quiet time—” You grinned without an ounce of regret. “—and sometimes it’s good to have a stranger’s ear, no?”

Well…you weren’t wrong. Although Seungcheol wasn’t expecting to find a willing participant at a house party, of all places. But you seemed eager to help, and God knows his friends have probably heard enough of his lamenting by now.

A shrug of his shoulders was followed by, “If you’re offering, sure.”

Your smile stretched even wider at his approval, reaching for his free hand with your own before leading him to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the room.

“Step into my office.”

“Let me guess…a breakup?”

Straight to the point.

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

He needed to take a swig to answer this.

“Two years.”

It was no surprise to see a grimace on your face.

“Yikes. My condolences.”

Seungcheol wasn’t sure if he tried to ease you or himself with the comforting smile he gave.

“Thank you, but breakups happen all the time. I’ll be over it soon.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck right now. Nothing wrong with wallowing in misery.”

He scoffed lightly, “Trust me, I’ve been doing more than enough of that.”

You hummed, seeming to understand.

“So was she ‘the one’?”

Seungcheol paused in raising his beer bottle, thick brows scrunching as he took a few seconds to ponder before shaking his head.

“No, I wouldn’t say that. It was serious, but not that serious.”

You nodded, yet there was a bout of silence afterward while he stewed on how to express his feelings since the first night his former girlfriend removed her possessions from his place.

“I think it’s…like something is missing. Like I was so used to having her around and there to talk to or spend time with, it feels off.”

“You got comfortable.”

Seungcheol continued, “I did. And now she’s not here anymore.”

Saying this admission out loud pulled the deepest of sighs from his lungs.

“It’s just going to take some getting used to.”

“But you’ll be okay…one day.”

Your sincerity in tone made his head turn, and he saw you gazing at him with something akin to optimism.

“It might not be tomorrow. Might not be next week. But it’ll get easier one day and you’ll be able to think about her without feeling like you’re missing out. Trust me—“ The way your mouth quirked humorlessly on one side as you glanced through the window spoke volumes. “—I know.”

Seungcheol watched as your eyes lingered on the house, seeming to allude to a specific person. He couldn’t help but turn to see if he could figure it out. His answer was received when he spotted a handsome man with cropped black hair getting close to a giggling woman. Sure enough, the look in your eyes was close to what he had expressed lately.

No wonder you offered to hear him out.

“I’m sorry.”

His words broke your trance, turning back to blink rapidly before chuckling.

“Thank you, but it was for the best. He wasn’t exactly the most faithful.”

Seungcheol frowned. “Ouch.”

“Mhm. Well, it is what it is. Now we’re free to fool around with whoever we want, so everyone wins!”

He couldn’t hold back a small laugh at your exuberant claim.

“You have a point.”

The grin you directed at him made his own wider. He didn’t expect a stranger to ease the trouble brewing inside tonight, but your perspective on the situation was refreshing. If anything, his determination to enjoy the party to the fullest returned. You probably wanted to get back to whatever you were doing before, too…

“Thank you for offering your ear. I’m sure you want to return to the party now, right?”

Just as Seungcheol started shifting to stand up, you held up your free hand to halt him.

“I don’t mind hanging with you some more. My friends are kind of bouncing around and doing their own thing, but if you want to go to yours, I’ll let you go.”

…but did he want to go to them?

“I…Honestly, I’m not in a rush, but please don’t feel obligated to stick around.”

Your expression shifted into one of ease.

“No obligation on my end. I kind of…want to keep talking to you.”

Seungcheol’s dark eyes widened at your admission, taken off-guard. “You do?”

“Mhm. You seem cool, uh—”

Right. Neither of you had given your names.

“Seungcheol.”

You quickly clasp the hand he held out, shaking it with a smile.

“Y/N.”

Your hold lingered for a bit, fingers dragging along his own when you finally released, making the tiniest of tugs occur in his stomach. He couldn’t help but be a little excited that you wanted to keep talking to him, expecting to go your separate ways after he vented. The mutual feeling gave him a burst of emotion that needed an outlet, excusing himself to grab another beer for the both of you.

Your ex was still in the kitchen, tongue now tangled with the other woman. Seungcheol couldn’t help but scrunch his nose a little at the sight, mainly thanks to what you had told him earlier. But he fought against the urge to toss an ice cube from the cooler at his head and left with a bottle in each hand, giving one to you as soon as he returned.

“Thank you!” Once he got back in his seat, you held your drink up in the air. “To a fun night! Oh, and fuck our exes.”

Seungcheol laughed at your ad-lib, joining in by tapping his bottle against yours. The two of you moved onto much lighter topics, getting to know each other while sitting on the quiet patio. You were better acquainted with the party host than he was, mentioning how you tended to attend most of Seokmin’s get-togethers. He wondered if he had ever passed by you before or vice versa; a shame it took this long to meet.

At some point, the gap between your bodies had dwindled, knees bumping into each other as you showed off pictures of your pets. The way you cooed and had stars in your eyes as he scrolled through his endless gallery of Kkuma pics didn’t fail to warm his heart. And seeing how your chest puffed while bragging about your own fur baby only made it worse.

But then the phones went down and the mood shifted eventually.

The alcohol and good conversation led to Seungcheol noticing little things about you. Like how you rubbed your collarbones whenever you were deep in thought. Or that you kept grabbing onto his thick forearm each time you wanted to emphasize your words, eyes wide and determined for them to sink in. He didn’t mind the touch at all, but it started encroaching into dangerous territory when he began focusing on your mouth a little too hard.

He wasn’t sure if it was the shape of your lips or how the thick gloss sat on them, but looking at them reminded him of cherries. Trying to ensure he responded to your words was becoming difficult by the minute, fighting the urge to lean down and sink his teeth in. It didn’t help whenever the lusciousness parted and showed off pearly whites and hints of tongue.

“Seungcheol.”

Out of nowhere, you called his name, making him jump as he tried to act like he wasn’t hardcore staring at your lips.

“Yes?”

The cherries tilted upwards as a hand came up and gently tapped a knuckle against his exposed forehead.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Your compliment and touch only made his cheeks flare, mouth parting as he prepared to express himself in a way that wasn’t corny or desperate.

“Your lips are gorgeous.”

So much for that.

But you seemed to be pleasantly surprised at his admission, grinning wider as you tucked a hair behind your ear.

“Yeah? Thank you, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not all…”

Seungcheol swallowed hard as you challenged him, wanting to know precisely what he had running through his mind.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

Confidence was more present this time, watching your head tilted in thinly veiled curiosity.

“Oh?” A foot came up and caressed his ankle as you continued, “What’s stopping you?”

Well, he wasn’t the type to just go in for something like that without asking first, so—

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

You looked out into the backyard, humming as you pretended to be thinking deeply about your answer, even though the rubbing sensation on his leg hinted at it.

“Mm…yeah, I do—” Finally, your eyes landed on his again, a sparkle in them that wasn’t there before. “maybe I want more than that.”

Seungcheol felt a heat building inside that had been dormant for too long. This interaction was going in a completely unplanned direction, but surprisingly, he didn’t find himself against it.

“Do…do you?”

The nod you gave had zero shame and hesitation behind it.

Ah. Well. There wasn’t any room for confusion, but he had to get this out.

“I’m not looking for anything serious, I—“

But you halted him by putting your finger on his lips.

“I know. Neither am I. We’re just distracting each other—“ A simple smile. “—right?”

Thank goodness you were on the same page.

“Right.”

Pleased with that, you removed your finger before standing up, setting your empty bottle on the nearby table. You then held your hand out, waiting until Seungcheol took it and stood up, following close as you led him back inside the house. The two of you had to zigzag through the crowd, narrowly avoiding dancing bodies. Finally, the stairs were within reach, increasing his heart as you guided him. He looked back into the crowd, barely catching a glimpse of his friends before you continued to pull him out of sight.

When they realized he disappeared, there was definitely going to be some severe questioning later on.

You led him into one of the bedrooms, making sure there were no unwelcome occupants first. When Seungcheol pulled the door in behind him, you quickly spun around, directing the coyest of looks up.

“You might want to lock it; I’d hate for us to get interrupted.”

Realizing that you had a point, he swiftly turned the lock sideways, finding the act and noise a little more comforting. Being walked in on was never fun, especially when you were fooling around in a stranger’s bed.

As soon as he finished, you reached for his hands before stepping back to stand in front of the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Last chance to back out.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but knit his brows a bit as he pondered. Was he really about to fool around with a complete stranger?

This was out of character for him. Even when he was single, getting in bed with someone he had only known for a couple of hours was a thought he never entertained. But this was now and he was, to put it lightly, yearning for some physical contact that would keep him distracted for the night.

And quite frankly, he didn’t want to say no to you.

“Seungcheol?”

The light call of his name brought him out of his thoughts, looking down to see you gazing up with mild concern.

“You alright?”

He was quick to nod and smile reassuringly, replying, “Yes. Sorry, just…got in my head for a bit.”

Your expression eased up, tongue clicking as you squeezed his hands.

“Well, we can’t have any more of that. C’mon.”

You maneuvered Seungcheol around so his back was facing the bed now.

“Quit thinking about your ex and focus.”

“Believe me, I’m trying. I might need a little more help on your end.”

His voice hints at encouragement, shifting you into a more domineering mood. Your cherry lips twist into an undaunted grin as you let go of his hands.

“Of course. Even if it’s for a moment—“ All of a sudden, he felt a push to his chest and found himself falling to the bed before looking up at your salacious smile. “—I’ll make you forget all about her.”

You crawled up and on to straddle his lap, making his breath hitch at the intimate contact. With your palms planted next to his head, you shot him a wicked ruby smile before leaning down to place your lips on his own. The kiss is quick to build back up whatever arousal he had lost on the way here, helped by the way your hips started ever so slowly to grind down. You’re in a perfect position to have your clothed center on top of his concealed cock, each ounce of friction awakening it.

Moans started to fill the dim room with each second that passed. Seungcheol found himself hesitating to lay his hands on you, too used to having them on another body instead. But then his brain was quick to remind him that there was no need to hold back.

And so he rested his palms on your waist, playing it safe for now.

But you didn’t let him remain stationary for long, breaking the kiss to place your hands on top of his and whisper, “Don’t be shy.”

The encouragement was a helpful trigger, fingers roaming your body as soon as you let go. He carefully ran them up and down the curves of your waist before taking a chance and moving them to the front and upwards. A quick glance was given to your face as he went and cupped your covered breasts, biting his lip at the soft sound you made. Giving a light squeeze earned him a louder noise and a roll of your hips.

“Knew your hands would feel nice…”

Your husky whisper only spurred him on, sliding one of his hands back down and around to give your bottom the same attention.

“Did you?”

“Mhm—” A firmer grope interrupted your sentence. “—kept staring while you were holding your beer.”

Seungcheol chuckled lightly at your admission, glad he wasn’t the only one fixating on mundane body parts. You allowed him to continue feeling your body, dipping down for an occasional kiss, only to halt him eventually. When his brows furrowed in confusion, your red lips curled as you moved down to sit on his thighs.

“I have to get my hands on you ASAP.”

There was no objection on his end as he removed his hands, letting them rest to the side as you got a feel of him. The heat of your skin penetrating his shirt brought a welcome warmth to his veins. He almost forgot what it felt like to be touched by another, feeling like it had been way too long. Before the relationship ended, he had gone a few weeks without being intimate. Only now was he realizing how badly he needed this.

You ventured downwards, nudging the hem of his tee up until a sliver of stomach and his belt buckle showed. A tap above his waistband brought his eyes to yours.

“You still sure about this?”

Seungcheol blinked at you checking in, not expecting it. But it was much appreciated, even though his answer was still—

“Yeah.”

That was all you needed to continue, smirking as you started to work on loosening the belt. It didn’t take long for you to get through to undo his fly, making his heart pound hard enough to rupture his eardrums nearly. It takes a good amount of self-control for Seungcheol not to jump when your hand slips into his underwear. And it takes even more for him to stay steady when fingers wrap around his cock.

“Can barely wrap my hand around you.”

Your hushed observation made him twitch in your grasp, pulling in his lower lip when you slipped his length out. You released him to spit into your palm, replacing your hold before beginning to stroke slowly. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it came out. Soon enough, soft grunts left his mouth.

“Are you distracted now?”

Seungcheol licked his lips and hummed, “Yes, very distracted.”

The giggle you gave preceded your mouth, leaning up to start giving him kisses again, multitasking efficiently. When you seemed to get your fill of his tongue, you parted and crawled down his body until you were face to face with his fully stiff dick. It couldn’t help but give a jerk at the devious smirk you shot him.

“May I?”

Fuck if he would say no.

“Go ahead.”

His backing spurred you into action, giving his cock a kiss at the base before using your tongue to run alongside every inch. The sigh that left Seungcheol carried so much behind it. The weight from the last few weeks and tonight escaped as you lap him up with attention that he didn’t realize he was missing until now. There was never a dull moment with your mouth, making his hips buck occasionally and quiet groans fill the room.

He managed to keep most of himself under control until you took him past your lips, forcing his fingers to dig into whoever’s comforter was underneath. The tight heat and wetness around his dick eventually made his digits come up to weave into your hair, giving you a bit of guidance. You didn’t seem to mind as a moan vibrated, sending a shiver down his spine.

Seungcheol forgot about whatever was happening outside of this bedroom for a while. He couldn't care less that there was a party going on downstairs and at least one of his friends might be looking for him. They dragged him here; the least they could do was let him have some fun of his own.

But the best part was that his ex-girlfriend didn’t pass through his mind once.

A sharp and familiar pang soon came in his groin, forcing him to choke out, “Y/N, Y/N, I’m so close—”

You looked up at his warning before pulling off with a popping sound to ask, “You wanna come in my mouth?”

The offer made his jaw drop and his cock twitch hard, swallowing down his shock in order to answer you.

“I— Up to you.”

A knowing expression washed over your face, smeared cherry lips quirking.

“Judging by your reaction, I’ll take it as a yes. Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

You swiftly returned to your previous position, letting a hand join in stroking what was still out this time. Seungcheol didn’t even get a second to process what you said before you continued pleasuring him, jumbling his brain as he got closer and closer to the end. It didn’t take long for his entire body to tense up, swearing out loud while he spilled into your mouth. His vision was spotty as he orgasmed, only clearing up when he went limp on the bed, panting hard.

Damn.

You definitely came through on your promise of distraction.

When he was finally back on Earth, you sat up, giving him a curious look.

“Did that help?”

Seungcheol lifted his head from the bed, chuckling breathlessly at your question.

“Fuck yes.”

A giggle that contradicted what you were previously doing to him escaped, your body wiggling side to side a bit.

“Good! I hate to disappoint.”

“Believe me, you didn’t.”

Your chest puffed out in triumph, looking like you were ready to receive a gold star for your hard work. At this point, you should have split up and returned to your respective groups. But Seungcheol found his instinct to return the favor rising to the surface.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

Forcing himself to sit up and look you in your eyes, he licked his lips before asking, “Do you…need me to help you out?”

Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

“You…how?”

He’s already come this far; he might as well lay all the chips down.

“I could eat you out.”

How your hand flew up to land over your mouth had him wonder if he overstepped his boundaries. Maybe you just wanted to give him his and get out.

“I…I mean, you don’t have to. We could just end it here…”

Hearing you trail off with uncertainty only pushed Seungcheol further. The need to have his mouth on somewhere other than your lips was blazing in his veins. He just missed pleasuring another.

With his bottom lip pushed out and his dark eyes looking up in a specific way, he made a final plea for his case.

“Just…consider it part of the distraction. Please?”

Yes, Choi Seungcheol was nearly begging to eat a stranger’s pussy.

But much to his relief, the light laugh you gave lacked mocking. No longer hiding your mouth, you smiled coyly and cooed, “Well, if you’re insisting…”

Perking up at your approval, he took hold of your jaw with both hands, giving you a long peck. He could feel you giggling during it, becoming louder when he pulled off to take a firm hold of your hips. You weren’t given a second to ask where to move before he lifted and practically manhandled you onto your back. The look you directed up at him was filled with surprise and a hazy lust.

“So strong.”

Seungcheol smirked at your dreamy tone, waiting for your legs to spread before sitting between them. He wasted little time in reaching for the hem of your dress, languidly rolling it up until he got a clear view of your panties.

And the large wet spot in the middle of it.

“Shit.”

You wiggled your hips at his gruff swear, teasing, “Don’t be so surprised.”

He raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not leaving you like this.”

Whatever mischief that would paint your words evaporated when you felt his knuckles run up and down your clothed center.

“A gentleman, aren’t you?”

Seungcheol grunted after seeing the spot grow larger, “Sure, let’s call it that.”

Not wanting to keep you waiting any longer, he maneuvered down to rest his head between your thighs. Even though he wanted to go straight to business, you deserved a little build-up as well. So Seungcheol planted soft kisses on your inner thighs, trailing up until his nose nearly brushed against you. He sped things up only when a whine of impatience came from above.

Reaching up to hook a finger under the fabric, he pulled it to the side and let it rest as he saw your dripping folds for a moment. But then he was quick to lean in and get to work.

He started off light at first, using the tip of his tongue to see what tickled your fancy. Soft hums left your mouth as your lover for the night, exploring every inch of skin. Seungcheol remained content with the gentle sounds until the need to hear more came over, pushing him to apply a little more pressure to make you louder.

“Mnh—”

“Doing alright up there?”

You hummed pleasantly, “Just wonderful. Keep it up.”

Seungcheol chuckled at your reply, using your encouragement to fuel his actions. He got a little more creative with his mouth, especially when it came to your clit. Closing his lips around it and sucking gently brought a stronger reaction out of you this time. He could feel a hand come down onto the back of his head before fingers buried into his dark locks.

“Right there, baby—”

A short groan vibrated against you from that. He made sure not to let up on what you wanted, finding that he had to use one of his arms to hold down your twitching hips at one point. He was starting to think that you had a thing for muscular guys, judging by your earlier reaction from being flipped over and how you giggled breathlessly from his recent move.

He continued to indulge in the taste of you until he felt the lightest of tugs on his hair. Pulling off with a pop, Seungcheol raised a thick brow.

“You good?”

“Uh huh, but—“ Your tongue ran along your bottom red lip. “—you mind doing me a favor?”

His eyes squinted playfully. “As long as it doesn’t involve feet or anything extreme, no.”

A laugh sounded while you released his strands and tapped his forehead.

“Dork. I want your fingers in me. That too extreme for you?”

The pang that hit his stomach influenced him to shake his head no.

“Good.”

Now you patted him, laying back and relaxing as you waited for him to follow through on his promise. Seungcheol used his free hand to sneak under his chin and pressed the tip of his index finger between your folds. Once he found your entrance, a glance into your eyes was given, receiving a nod in return. He began sliding inside, biting his lip at how you seemed to suck him in. You were wet enough that there was little resistance, making an obscene sound that brought a tingle down his spine.

Starting to thrust moderately, your louder moans filled the dim room. Seungcheol had to apply more pressure with the arm on your hips, nearly being thrown off by a strong buck. He got distracted by watching how you reacted to the friction. But then he remembered how much you also enjoyed his mouth and bent down to get back to work.

You were gracious enough to let him get his fill of you, so he wanted to ensure you got your distraction as well.

“S-Seungcheol—”

He didn’t know how much time had passed before your strangled call of his name cut into the fog, releasing your pulsating bud from his wet lips to rasp, “What’s wrong?”

Your hand darted down to press his mouth back against it, whimpering, “Don’t stop, gonna come—”

You didn’t need to say anymore.

Seungcheol continued licking and sucking, just the way you liked, ignoring how his jaw and finger started cramping up. Thankfully, it didn’t take that long to feel you clamp down tight, crying out as your thighs trembled next to his head. He kept the same pace, waiting until you pushed at his head to prevent overstimulation. Once the trembling of your body died down, he slipped his digit out and sat up, giving your hip a careful rub. The touch brought your attention down from the ceiling to him, eyes hazy with bliss and wonder.

An expression that brought the cheekiest of grins to his face.

“How was that?”

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to figure your words out.

“She’s missing out.”

It took a moment for Seungcheol to process what you said, but he laughed once he did, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“She is, isn’t she?”

The two of you shared another laugh before he felt his back pocket vibrate. Blinking, he reached in and slipped out his phone, frowning at the message on the screen.

[Wonu]: where’d you go??? We’re leaving soon

“Friends looking for you?”

Seungcheol looked up, nodding.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re about to head out.”

A sigh left your lips, sitting up to give him a cherry-colored pout.

“Darn. I was having so much fun with you.”

His ears reddened at your complaint, grinning bashfully.

“Same.”

Tapping your foot against his thigh, you hurried back to adjust your clothing, leaving him to respond to Wonwoo’s text.

[Cheol]: my bad, hanging out with someone

[Cheol]: be down in a few minutes

When he received a thumbs up, Seungcheol followed suit, standing up to tuck himself back in and smooth out any wrinkles on his shirt. He didn’t want to be super obvious when he left the bedroom. Just as he finished, he turned to find you standing and facing him, looking up with scrutinizing eyes.

“Hey…what’s up?”

“You might wanna, uh—”

You pointed to his mouth, making him look in the nearby mirror to see what was happening. His eyes widened at the red smeared over and around his swollen lips. Clicking his tongue, he grabbed a tissue, wiped it off as best as possible and turned towards you afterward.

“Better?”

A thumbs up was given. “Much. As much as I like my lipstick on you, I don’t think you want everyone to know what you’ve been up to.”

Seungcheol’s mouth popped open. You complimented yet called him out simultaneously. A woman after his heart.

But you brought him back to Earth with a pat on his shoulder, reminding him, “Come on, don’t keep your friends waiting.”

Closing his mouth, he nodded in agreement.

“Right…thank you, Y/N, for, you know, distracting me. It helped. A lot.”

While not as red as before, your lips shone with vibrancy as they curled upwards.

“Of course, you looked like you needed it. Thanks for not leaving me hanging.”

“Not a problem.”

Another vibration in his pocket urged Seungcheol to hurry downstairs before getting stranded. He leaned down to kiss your cheek and made his way to the door, unlocking and opening it. Just as he stepped over the threshold, he looked back to see you watching him with an unreadable expression.

But it vanished when you caught him staring, brows knitting as you lightheartedly shooed him away.

Whatever that was was left behind as he shut the door behind him.

Seungcheol knew with every fiber of his being that his group would be in or lounging in the car, ready to leave any second. Patience was never their strong suit.

He could already spot a casualty or two as he walked across the lawn. Chan was laid across the hood of the vehicle while Seungkwan’s mouth ran off at Wonwoo, face flushed to all hell. He seemed to approach at the right time, the latter looking relieved as he pushed himself off from leaning against the door.

“There you are! We thought you walked home or something.”

Joshua’s voice could be heard calling out from inside, “Yeah man, where have you been?”

Seungcheol shrugged, hands buried into his pockets.

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

He looked Wonwoo dead in his eyes, trying to telepathize what he had been up to.

“Stuff.”

His close friend seemed to understand after a moment, brows lifting in surprise while his mouth twisted upwards.

“Doing stuff or someone?”

But there was little chance of keeping it between them when Seungkwan obnoxiously challenged him.

“I was just hanging out with them. You told me I needed to be distracted tonight, yeah?”

Joshua was busy setting up his GPS to tune in and Chan was fighting slumber, leaving Wonwoo and Seungkwan to make noises of wonder at the reveal.

“We did. Good job, hyung.”

Seungcheol smirked at his approval, still riding the high of the encounter.

“What? Choi Seungcheol having a one-night stand?” Seungkwan stumbled forward to rest a hand on his elder’s forehead. “You feelin’ okay? Too much to drink?”

The smile dropped and formed into a scowl as he got his hand smacked away.

“Fuck off, look who’s talking. Get your drunk ass in the car.”

A petulant whine left the younger as he turned to fumble with the door. Joshua honked the horn, sticking his head out the driver’s window to yell at Chan to move and get in. It did little to faze the youngest, mumbling something akin to ‘five more minutes.’ Seungcheol and Wonwoo worked on removing him from the hood and into the backseat to lean on a singing Seungkwan. The latter climbed in next to them, leaving the oldest to get ready to slide in the passenger seat.

“Seungcheol!”

But then a voice called out before footsteps thudded in the grass behind him.

Thick brows furrowed as he turned to gape in shock as he saw you running over. You stopped directly before him, catching your breath for a moment.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t think I’d catch you. I wanted to give you something.”

Seungcheol had no clue what this something could be. He was still trying to wrap his head around running into you again. This wasn’t how one-night stands were supposed to go…right?

But when you opened a closed fist to reveal a piece of folded paper, his brain ran ahead of itself and wondered whether this was going to go the opposite direction.

Seungcheol blinked rapidly, peeking at your face to see you giving him an expectant look. He took the paper and quickly unfolded it, jaw dropping at what was scribbled down. He couldn’t help but dart back and forth between it and you, the mischievous grin letting him know that this wasn’t a joke.

“In case you need more distraction.”

With a wink, you turned around, the skirt of your dress flipping and swishing as you walked back towards the house with a sway in your hips. He continued to gawk at your retreating form, only brought out of his reverie by the whooping of his friends and Joshua’s incessant honking. Spinning around to chew out the driver for making a commotion, Seungcheol swiftly got in, buckling himself before the group hit the road.

Of course, the ride was filled with interrogation, intermingled with Seungkwan’s singing and Dino’s freestyling. But he didn’t mind, feeling a burst of confidence every time the paper scratched the palm of his hand.

Maybe coming out to this party wasn’t a terrible idea after all.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[urhoneycombwitch]

heated touch

foreword: “but Lulu it’s not even summer yet how come you wrote a pool fic” okay first of all global warming. it’s absolutely summer rn. hush up and eat up. 👼

cw: R wears bikini top + skirt, Eddie is Down Bad™️, and is also touchstarved, brief use of the awkward miscommunication trope, R’s baby hairs mentioned but no color or texture, weed mention (Robin is a stoner canon change my mind u can’t), R uses sunscreen (no skin color mentioned), implied plus-sized reader

wc: 3.4k

___

It’s the first real, normal, non-apocalyptic summer that anyone can remember having in a long, long time. 

With the heat index at a sizzling 97 today, various members of the Party have taken over Steve’s half-shaded, half-pool extravaganza of a backyard. The kids are jumping in and out of the bright blue water, splashing and cackling, while you and Robin stretch out like house cats in a sunny patch of grass nearby.

You, mere yards away, in a swim top and sweet little pleated tennis skirt. All that lovely skin on display, glistening in the light. 

And Eddie is sulking, indoors, frozen with lovesickness. There’s condensation dripping from the forgotten can of beer in his left hand; through the window above the kitchen sink, Eddie observes the scene in mournful silence.

“Christ, you really are a pussy.”

Eddie whips around with a glare that would level a normal human being, shushing Steve with a panicked fierceness that only makes the guy chuckle harder at Eddie’s expense. 

“Y’know,” Steve continues with the insults, dipping into the fridge and reappearing with a Fanta and a shit-eating grin- “You might want to try leering like a creep from the garage window. That way no will hear you jack off-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Harrington.” Eddie interrupts with a grade-A scoff and eye roll combo, rivaling Steve’s own bitchiness. “Wasn’t your last successful date back in high school, like, six years ago when you had better hair?”

Steve doesn’t even flinch. With condescending sympathy, he sighs and shakes his head of (beautiful-even-when-wet, damn him) hair, snapping the soda can tab with a flourish. “Might wanna hurry up and make a move. Can’t suppress my charm forever just ‘cuz you’re too chicken to man up- it’s not natural to keep all of this hidden away.”

Steve gestures to the broad expanse of his golden chest, dark thicket of hair sitting proud, the scars that he seems to have no qualms over showing off criss-cross along the flex of muscle at his sides. 

Realistically, Eddie knows Steve wouldn’t go after you, not even as a joke. It would defy the honorable and unmentioned Bro Code they’ve lived by ever since Eddie almost died in an alternate hell dimension and Steve valiantly pulled him back topside. 

Teasing, though? It’s Harrington’s godgiven right- especially since Eddie’s so hopelessly in love. It’s almost too easy to get him riled up, to light a fire under his ass to maybe finally get the situation some forward movement. 

Flames lick at the kindling. Steve walks backwards, shooting Eddie one last finger gun and wink before rejoining the boisterous outdoors crowd. Through the crack Steve’s left in the sliding glass door, Eddie can hear that asshole’s cheery voice ring out- “Lookin’ good, ladies!”- and your subsequent peal of laughter. 

Eddie can feel the heat through the black denim at his ass, sweat rushing to prickle at his pits underneath the light layer of tanktop- the one with a high-necked collar and sides long enough to conceal most of his scars. 

Not that he’s trying to hide ‘em, perse... they’re just sensitive to the sun. Plus his black jeans have holes in them, so they totally count as summer attire. He’s basically wearing shorts right now. Steve can suck it.

“Suck it, Steve,” Eddie grits out to no one for good measure, before taking a steadying gulp of beer and stepping bravely out beyond the glass doors. 

It’s shockingly bright, sun bouncing off the surface of the pool and rendering Eddie momentarily blind; he shields his eyes with his free hand in time to catch the tail end of Sinclair’s mid-air somersault.

“Five,” Max calls out, lounging safely out of the splash zone, waves from Lucas’s cannonball lapping at her pink donut pool float. Thick black prescription sunglasses take up half her face, expression unmoved even as her boyfriend splutters in the deep end.

“Are you kidding?” Lucas is indignant as he huffs and treads water. “Gimme at least an eight. Did you even see the flip?” 

“I saw it.” Unimpressed, Max shrugs a freckled shoulder. While Lucas devolves into swearing out his complaints (already with one elbow planted on the concrete to get out and make another attempt at a higher score), Max zeros in on Eddie, one brow arched high in searing appraisal. “You gonna swim with your boots on, too?”

“I’m- shut up, Red. Nice donut.”

Max’s triumphant smirk confirms what Eddie already knows (he totally bombed that comeback), but if there’s one thing in the world Eddie’s good at, it’s Pretending. A trait forged and perfected over the years of being reigning Dungeon Master; it’s served him well during D&D sessions, and when running from the law. 

And it’s coming in handy now, too, as Eddie walks past Steve (half-snoozing in a lounger) and the table of Baby Byers and Wheeler Jr. (playing an intense game of Slapjack), pretending to be totally Normal and Chill as he approaches you and Robin, a ways off from the bustling pool.

Go with what you know, Eddie tells himself, because if he focuses for more than two seconds on the fact that you’re stretched prone, sunlight filtering through the big tree overhead and illuminating the soft curves of your thighs just visible under the Spandex hem of your skirt, he’s gonna have a pressing issue that will be anything but pretend.

Robin’s lying on her back on the beach towel next to yours, a tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice held up close, obscuring her field of vision. Using this to his advantage, Eddie crouches on his haunches, then leans in to press his cold can of beer to the tender arch of Robin’s bare foot.

She yelps, kicking out on instinct (which Eddie was expecting). He manages to take the brunt of the hit with a forearm block, but doesn’t see the paperback coming until it’s hitting the side of his face.

“Ow, christ, Buckley,” he moans, slumping to sit on Robin’s towel, hamming up the victim act for your sake and sympathy while Robin snatches up her book and gives him another solid thwack, pages fluttering.

At the commotion, you’d lifted your head from your arms, leaning into them now with the weight of your upper half. Eddie tries really, really valiantly to not stare at your swimsuit top (practically a bra), and instead distracts himself with the fact that you were giggling. At him. 

Give the boy an inch and he’ll take a mile, Wayne is wont to say of his nephew. Never been truer than now, as Eddie gets drunk off your attention and humors, crowding familiarly and rudely into Robin’s space just to piss her off more and to keep your twinkling-eyed focus.

“Yech.” Robin gags. “I’m not gonna sit here and watch you two flirt up close. I just ate lunch.”

Eddie’s worried that comment will embarrass you into pulling away but apparently, you’re not shying from the accusations of his affection anymore. 

A snort and a sardonic eye roll is what you dish back, and Eddie latches on, delighted to have a Shit Starter in Crime, pushing an honest hand to his chest in faux-shock- “Flirting? Me? I’d never. What an accusation. You’re getting crazier by the day, Buckley.”

The peal of laughter that ripples from you is like a song, vibrating the frequencies between Eddie’s ears, scrambling all the channels with its aching beauty.

Goddamn addictive, he thinks, as the white-out of his hearing fades back to normal. A light, warm wind rustles through the big oak overhead, leaves shushing together; allowing himself a glance at your stretched form, Eddie’s (un)luckily close enough to see the smattering of goosebumps rise on the skin of your arms. 

To observe the way sweat curls the baby hairs near your temple, at the nape of your neck. To see the little creases near the corner of your eyes as you close them, turning your face into the wind, a quiet expression of summer bliss on your face.

Eddie could sit here for hours like a (happy) creep just taking in every minute detail, but Robin starts bitching at him about the weed he still owes her from ages ago, poking her cold toes into the holes of his jeans, mischievous and irritating.

Eddie smacks at her ankles until she pulls them back, matching her argument point for point; it’s not about the weed, of which he’d gladly give- it’s about keeping that smile on your face even as you sit up to start digging through your nearby tote bag.

“And plus,” Robin’s saying, sticking a finger into the dimple of Eddie’s left cheek like the obnoxious little sister he never asked for, “You scratched the everliving hell out of my bike last month when you insisted you were sober enough to ride it home.”

“What’d you want me to do, drink and drive? Not very Just Say No Club of you.” Eddie is operating on autopilot with his responses, absorbed in the way your delicate fingers move inside the canvas of the bag. 

“I wanted the same thing that I currently. Want.” Two more ice-cold prods of her toes into the same spot of his exposed knee. “Three grams, pre-rolled, plus an apology.”

Eddie is about to give in with the promise of the rest of his sizable stash and a bike waxing regimine with his own spit thrown into the mix to get Robin off his case, when the sound of your voice cuts through the bickering. 

In your hand, held aloft and out between the three of you, is a bottle of sun lotion. Your focus is fixed on shaking displaced items back into your bag, not looking as you make a request:

“Babe, would you do my back?”

Eddie moves on instinct before he even has time to process the ask, reaching out towards the palm tree-printed plastic- but for some reason, Robin’s hand collides with his mid-air. Goddammit, Buckley. 

His annoyance at Robin quickly gives way to confusion, then roiling embarrassment as two sets of eyes whip to him, your mouth slightly parted in an o shape and Robin making a squeak of awkward alarm.

You were talking to Robin. Obviously, you were talking to your girl friend to rub you down with lotion. 

Jesus christ, Munson, get a grip.

Eddie lets go at the same time Robin and you draw back, the three of you stammering half-sentences over the thunk of the bottle hitting the ground.

“I meant- sorry, god, sorry, I meant Robin-”

“Fucking- jesus, of course you meant Robin, I’m sorry-”

“Oh god! I can do it! It’s fine!”

There’s a brief pause where all of you stare down at the bottle, as if it holds some great mystery of the world. Or is perhaps concealing a time-bending device that will let Eddie go back twenty seconds to kick himself in the head.

He’s just about to make some lame excuse to fuck off forever when Robin beats him to it, jumping up with a spastic, nervous energy. “Um. Steve’s calling me. So I gotta… see what that dingus wants. You’re good?”

This last part, directed at you; with a quick, reassuring nod, you say “I’m good.” 

Seemingly recouped from the whole debacle, you squint up at Robin- “Eddie’s got it,” and then fixing Eddie with a disarmingly beatific smile- “Right?”

It’s like looking into the sun. Eddie is pretty sure his neurons haven’t been firing properly ever since he caught a glimpse of your thighs earlier. By some miracle, he manages coherence- “Uh-huh. Yep. Right.”

“O-o-kay.” Robin lets the word expand, then gives a dorky two-finger salute and makes for the empty pool lounger next to a snoring Steve.

Then it’s just you and Eddie, blinking at each other from your seats on opposing towels, until you lean to pick up the bottle, this time handing it directly to him. 

An invitation, paired with a smile that still pulls at the corners of your mouth.

Someone jumps noisily into the pool, a few scattered cheers accompanying the crashing water. Red’s distant “Nine-five!” echoes through the backyard and this, of all things, spurs Eddie into unfreezing.

He takes the proffered lotion, shifting to kneel in the strip of grass not covered by either of your towels, waiting and watching for your approval. 

Like something out of a dream, you lower yourself face-down again, hands tucking themselves sweetly into the space between the hollows of your shoulders and the ground. Eyes half-lidded as Eddie scooches closer.

“Just on your back?” He asks, soft, like you’re a deer about to spook (although based on the way his hands are trembling, Eddie’s the more likely candidate for chickening out and running for the hills).

“Mhm. Please.”

Fumbling under your sidelong gaze, Eddie wiggles all the rings from his fingers, stuffing them into his pocket. 

“Too cold,” he explains, feeling fidgety from your eye contact, rubbing his hands together briskly to bring out the warmth and give them something to do other than shake.

Eddie pines for a cigarette, a quick burst of nicotine to steel his nerves. Instead, he picks up the sunscreen, squeezes a quarter-sized puddle into his left hand, and shifts to kneel close as he can without actually bumping his knees into your side.

The sunscreen is already warmed from being out in the heat of the day, so Eddie starts on your left shoulder. Dips his fingers into the puddle, spreads a thin layer on the blade of your shoulder, and rubs it in. 

At first, his touch is gentle and apprehensive, but when your eyes drift shut on the second pass of his fingers, Eddie gets a bit bolder. On your right shoulder, another layer of suncream goes on, but this time, Eddie lets his thumb slip into the grooves under your shoulder blade. 

He runs his thumb along the stripe of muscle next to your scapula, still with pressure light enough to feign keeping to his task, thrilled when you make a soft noise of satisfaction.

“I would’ve asked you, y’know.” 

Eddie pauses, hand resting at the top of your spine, the skin of your neck freshly glistening and tacky from his work. “Asked me what?”

“To do this.” You shrug a shoulder, pointing in a roundabout way at your back. “I just… I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“Why the hell would I say no to this?” The words are out before Eddie can bite them back and find a much more cool and normal thing to say. He can feel your chuckle, the vibrations of it, the way it causes the muscles in your upper back to move.

Eddie tries to cover his lameness by refocusing on the mission he’s been given, like a heroic knight bestowed with a great honor by a fair maiden… on second thought, he’s got to cut out the fantasy metaphors. This situation is wild and tempting enough as-is without adding a potentially very horny layer to the mix.

“You can get under my top, if you want,” you murmur, lashes dark against your cheek in profile, voice all honeyed and fair-maiden-like. 

Eddie swallows hard. Distributes the rest of the lotion between two palms, rests them just below the black fabric, and then slides up. Underneath the top, your skin is the same- smooth and pliant and sweet. 

“Feels nice,” you whisper, eyes still closed in reverie, sounding sleepy and relaxed.

Eddie is entranced with the way your muscles move under his touch. He applies a bit more pressure to the mid-back area of your spine, dragging his thumbs down on either side. You make another noise, this one closer to a moan, and Eddie’s really glad he’s practiced at the skill of Boner Killer On Command because he wouldn’t dare sully the atmosphere with ill-timed arousal (though his limits are certainly being tested today).

“Sorry about the callouses,” he says, a bit of self-deprecation to fill the air because he’s gotta focus on something other than the way his hand fits perfectly in the center of your low back.

“S’okay. I like them, actually. You’re good with your hands.”

Not for the first time, Eddie is relieved that you’re not looking at him- his ears are burning, on their way to bright pink. Same with his cheeks. “Cool, yeah. That’s good. Um. I play guitar, y’know so… I get around.”

After cringing at himself, Eddie watches the apple of your cheek round upwards with a smile, a sharp flash of your teeth as you say, “I can tell.”

There’s an amiable quiet that falls over the two of you; in the background, splashes and chattering from the pool group float in the air, muted by the warm winds shushing through overhead branches. 

At one point, Eddie realizes he’s covered your whole back in sunscreen and is now just trailing his fingertips over the notches of your spine, starting low and ending near your neck, following the path down again in a loop. If you mind, you don’t say anything, seemingly sated by his touch. 

There’s an aching behind Eddie’s ribs. It squeezes at his heart, makes his next breath pinch- he wants to touch you like this all the time. He’s already hooked. 

All too soon, you’re peeling yourself from the blanket, sitting up with a sheepish smile. Eddie can’t tell if you’re getting shy on him from the touch alone, or if it’s the fact that he’s the one that’s been touching. 

Either way, if Eddie could find a more chill way to say “I’d like to do that every minute for the rest of my life if you’ll let me,” he’d say it to appease any worries you may have. 

Bare knees pulled to your chest, you gesture at the bottle still in Eddie’s hand. “I could… do you, if you wanted?”

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, through the heated curtain of curls. “Nah, that’s okay. My abs won’t be ready to debut until the end of summer. 1993.”

He’s expecting at least a chuckle out of you, but instead, he’s fixed with a kind, all-knowing look. 

The two of you are face to face, your shin close enough to brush Eddie’s ribs as you state, “Not a fan of the heat, are you.”

“What gave it away?” Eddie gestures animatedly at the humidity-fed frizz of his hair, then shakes his head like a wet dog. 

When you catch one of his curls between two fingers he freezes, heart slamming to a pause as you loop it around a knuckle.

“I have some deep conditioner at my place. Could help you out if you wanna come by some time.”

Mere inches from his cheek as you lean in, Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, trying to memorize how you smell- coconutty from the lotion, a bit sweaty, a faint hint of deodorant and the vanilla perfume you spray in the mornings. 

He’s never been this close before. 

He feels electric. Or more accurately, like he’s been electrocuted, and he’s waiting for you to restart his heart. 

“Does that sound good, Eddie? You, me, some hair care… maybe a movie? I can steal some from Family Video. I know a guy.”

At his ear now, your voice is low as you wrap a hand around the inside of Eddie’s arm- it’s his turn to break into goosebumps. “Oh yeah? Willing to steal for me already?”

This earns him a stellar laugh, head tipped back to show the curve of your perfect neck. You shove at him playfully, and he’s about to snap up your hand to bite as payback when your name is yelled from across the yard.

“Come on, we need another unbiased judge!” Max waves urgently from the pool as Lucas and Dustin get into an increasingly loud argument over the Olympic grading system. 

“Goddamn kids.” This comes out much more growly than Eddie intended; you just chuckle and squeeze his arm before pulling away to stand.

Eddie mourns the loss of your body heat until you extend a hand towards him, saying, “Let’s go humor our goddamn kids, and we can talk about dinner afterwards.”

It’s like your hand is made to fit inside Eddie’s. He follows close on your heels, heart thudding a steady, overjoyed rhythm once more. 

[selfloverrrrrr]

Can you do a non-con fic where the crown prince falls in love with his sisters lady in waiting or maid . Lady-in-waiting/maid reader is a counts daughter .💖(make it detailed) 》 also I love reading your fics sk much 😍

Thank you so much 😊💗

Hope you're gonna like this one too💗

The maid

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, prince Gojo, maid reader, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

Working in Gojo's castle wasn't very easy. The boy who grabbed everyone's attention wasn't satisfied with the thing that I don't want him. I was his sister's maid. That was the only plus point for me. Whenever he comes to flirt with me I tell him that his sister called for me.

These things were okay until he started liking me. I didn't know at first. But then I started noticing things like he's staring at me when someone is talking to him and many more. When I get to know that I started making distance from him. Cause I knew he wasn't a very good man.

One day I was late for work. I quickly ran to the castle. I was Gojo's sister's private maid. I went to her door and knocked on the door. "Princess? May I come in?" I asked. No response came. "Oh y/n... princess isn't home today" a maid said. "She isn't?... then what should I do now?" I asked. "Prince Gojo told me to tell you that he wants you to go to his room" another maid said.

My heart thumped. Why is he calling me? But I had to obey his orders because I was a maid there. I went to his room. Slowly knocked on the door. "Come in" he said from inside. When I opened the door I saw Gojo laying on the bed shirtless. "Oh...y/n" he said. A smirk came on his lips. "You called me?" I asked. "Yeah...my sister isn't home today so I thought why not make you take care of me... close the door " he said. My eyes widened when he said close the door. "I-i....why...the door-" before I could say anything he spoke. "I said close the door and come here.... that's my order " he said.

I took a deep breath and closed the door then went towards him. "Good girl.... now sit here" he said and patted on the bed. I sat down. He took my hand in his. "So? What do you think? How does it look?" He asked. "W-what?" I asked. "My room, darling " he said with a smirk. "O-oh... great " I replied. "It's all yours" he said and kissed my hand.

My hands were shaking I just wanted to get out of here. "Can I.... can I go now?" I asked. "Go?... isn't it your work time?" He said. "Yes but your sister isn't at home today " I said. "Oh darling, but I am.... forget about her... think about me.... you'll work for me today " he said. And what can go worse? I can't say no!

"what do you want me to do, prince?" I asked. "Yeah that's why I like you... you're so eager to do your work" he said with a chuckle. "Get on the bed and take off your clothes " he said. My eyes widened. "What?" I said. "You heard me right " he said with a smirk. I stood up and was about to get out of the room when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him. "Ah ah ah.... that's not what I said.... you have to be in the hard way, no?" He said and threw me on his bed. "prince, P-Please... I've to go" I said.

"What you should do is shut your mouth and obey my orders" he said and climbed on the bed. Gojo started crawling towards me. " P-Prince stopped" I said. I tried to get off the bed but he grabbed me by my leg and pulled me back on the bed. " Prince, please stop" I begged but he crashed his lips on mine. Kissing me roughly. Making me breathless.

He started undressing me. I tried to stop him but my strength was nothing for him. He almost took off my clothes. I was just left in my panties. Gojo started licking my nipple. His was so teasing. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I screamed so loudly.

I was a fool... I was so fool! I shouldn't have come to his room and left the castle. When he was done playing with my nipples and boobs he got up and started taking off my panties. " Gojo please...." I begged again but he didn't listen to me. He brought his face close to my pussy and licked it. "Ummmmmmm..... heaven~" he whispered to himself.

He took off his pants. His huge length was out now. My eyes widened at his length. It was too long and too thick. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. " P-Prince no.... please no .... Prince please no... It's too big.... it's not gonna fit." I begged him. "Shhh darling... Don't panic... it's gonna fit... we're gonna make it fit..." He whispered in my ear.

Gojo slowly pushed his whole length in but I screamed with pain. Then he started thrusting in and out. Thrusting became rougher and harder. I was screaming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pleasure with pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thrusting gets faster and harder. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot made my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips.

I felt his dick started throbbing inside me. I didn't have the power to speak. It was too much for me. When my warm walls clenched around him he moaned loudly. In a few minutes he came inside me. I could feel his seed spreading inside me. He slowly pull out and threw him beside me. He hugged me and pulled me closer to him and whispered....

"Y/n... do you know how much I craved your attention.... fuck I can't believe that I have you as mine now" he said and bite on my neck. "Why are you crying? Ain't you happy that you'll be the queen when I'm gonna be the king?" He said. My breath almost stopped when I heard. Was he saying he's gonna marry me? So he wasn't doing this for his pleasure...he wants me? I thought. "What?..... you thought I'm gonna leave you?...dumb girl" he said and laughed.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

One Bite for You, One Bite for Me

💗 THIS IS MY 100 200 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x AFAB!Reader

summary: One of the things you and Miguel bond over is delicious food. One day, you notice that your clothes aren’t fitting like they used to. Miguel is there to remind you how beautiful you are.

content warning: established relationship but they’re not married, 18+ so MDNI, non-Spiderman Miguel, LOTS OF MENTIONS OF FOOD AND DRINKS, weight gain, cycles, insecurity about body, alcohol, body worship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾), cunnilingus, lots of praise, a little Spanish (if wrong please lmk)

credit for art + dividers: Me! + @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

a/n: This is actually the first fic I wrote when my Miguel hyperfixation came back in full force. I based it off of this video and a comment saying that girls are usually the ones that gain weight super quick in a relationship. Please know that gaining weight is not a bad thing, especially in this story. Relationship weight can be positive and food is here to nourish your body! Also know that everyone’s body is different. Our bodies will react to things in different, unique ways. If you’re ever feeling icky about your weight/health, please take a step back, breathe, and know that you’re beautiful no matter what. There are also sources out there that can help you if your thoughts overpower your heart. Please don’t hesitate to seek help.

word count: 4.3k

To all my food-lovers and fellow plus-size girlies, kisses to you! You’re beautiful!

SPRING 🥭

“Baby!”

You grinned as you heard Miguel’s shout from the front door. His voice had a giddy tilt as if he made a breakthrough in one of his projects.

“I was finally able to stop by the new Jamaican spot before they sold out and look what I got us,” Miguel says before he slides the take-out bags across the table. “Ribs, oxtails, rice and beans, mac, and your favorite…fried plantains!”

You quickly untie the bags, happy to have a break from your research paper, and immediately get hit with the smell of spices both sweet and savory. “Oh my god! That looks incredible.”

After frantically digging around for a plastic fork, you were finally able to pull a piece of meat off the oxtail. It looked mouth-watering and tender. One bite of the meat and you’re immediately groaning, slumped in your chair. You nod your head and scrunch your face, watching as the juice from the gravy soaks into the pieces of rice stuck at the bottom of the take-out plate.

“That is so fucking good, Mig. No wonder there’s never any combos left by the time you leave work.”

Miguel just watches you eat with a glint in his eyes, happy to see you so relaxed and enjoying the food. He reaches into the second bag, pulling out two bottles of juice, “And to make it better, I got their fruit juice, made fresh daily-”

“Passionfruit and mango flavor!” Your eyes got big as you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew how much of a juice fanatic you were, so this drink was just the cherry on top of the large ice cream sundae that was your generous boyfriend.

“Thank you, baby,” you giggled and gave his cheek a fat smooch. You patted his chest twice and moved back to set up the table, “Now, hurry and wash up so we can eat this before it gets cold! We’ve got shows to watch.”

“Entendido, I’ll be right back”

SUMMER 🍦

You and Miguel were walking hand in hand along the Cancun Hotel Zone, taking in all the sights. Miguel’s job had given him a promotion along with an extremely high bonus, so what better way to celebrate than to use his PTO and bring the love of his life on vacation?

Granted, the area you guys were currently in was a little touristy, borderline bougie, but it was all worth it when Miguel got to see your eyes light up as you watched the turquoise waves fade into white foam along the shoreline.

You wobbled a bit while clinging to Miguel’s side, a little tipsy from the frozen paloma you drank to pair with today’s lunch. It was a waterfront restaurant with a live band so the vibes were just right for a little bit of liquid fun.

The downside was that the two of you were supposed to meet up with Miguel’s family later that evening and while you were fine with the confidence boost you were sporting, you wanted to be more alert when speaking with loved ones. Plus, you needed to give a good impression to the relatives you hadn’t met yet. It will be nice to put a face to the names of Miguel’s childhood.

“What do you say we stop and get some ice cream?” Miguel suggested, chuckling at you when you grinned up at him, ecstatic over the proposed plan.

“You know me so well,” you said, arms reaching around his waist, face squished into the side of his chest. “I would absolutely love some ice cream. Cool me down from the inside.”

Miguel chuckled and kissed the top of your head. You were especially cute when you got like this.

FALL 🍕

“Baby, check this out,” Miguel shouted, finally returning to your table with your food.

The fair was packed full of people, especially due to the pop-up food truck festival happening that same week. You had never seen more people run to get fried turnip greens and loaded fries in your life.

Still, this was just another chance to hang out with Miguel. You really didn’t care where you went with him, as long as you got to see that pretty smile.

You look down at the table and see what he brought back. Before your eyes sat the most un-Miguel order ever: birria pizza and two walking tacos, one Hot Cheetos and the other Dorritos.

“Dorilocos, Miguel. Really?” you raised an eyebrow watching him try to steady the open chip bags over some spread-out napkins.

“Amor, don’t look at me like that! I had to get them because Gabriel kept talking my ear off about this new food truck that made them better than the ones we used to eat on our trips back home. I, for one, don’t believe that for a second, so what better way to test that theory than to eat it with my baby?” Miguel gave the saddest look he could muster and slid his hand across the table, trying to convince you to indulge with him.

“Fine, fine. Don’t give me that look,” you say, pulling off a slice of the pizza, making the cheese stretch as long as you can. “Just don’t complain to me from the bathroom while your stomach fights to digest something it hasn’t had in over a decade!”

Miguel pursed his lips while shoveling as much food as he could on one Doritto, “Shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? That’s a lot of cheese, babe.”

“Oh my god, some queso tears up my stomach one time and you can’t let that go, can you?”

“It was once and yet you were in agony about it for days. I think I’m allowed to remind you at least monthly.”

“Just eat your food and leave me and my iron stomach alone. We’ll see what happens between today and tomorrow,” you quip, pulling your phone out ready to record Miguel’s reaction to send to Gabriel.

Miguel takes a bite and just leans against the table, head slumped on his clean head.

“Dios mio, he was right. This can’t be happening,” he groaned, slightly annoyed that Gabriel wasn’t exaggerating. He was also shocked at the fact that someone even came close to getting the local snack right.

You giggled behind your phone, happy that his reaction worked in your favor. You zoomed in a little more on his face, capturing him smacking his lips and licking off excess sauce. He was so zoned in on his food that he didn’t even notice you with your phone up.

“Is it good, Mig?” you asked, mirth in your voice.

He looked at you ready to answer but his eyes snapped to your camera and started to whine, “Amor, please stop recording!”

With a small smile, you made sure to add the video to your folder full of Miguel. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You just look so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Miguel just mumbled to himself while stacking up another chip, neck heated over the interaction. “Here, just try this,” he said, holding a nacho close to your mouth.

You opened your mouth, just barely getting the chip in. Cupping your hand under your head, you begin to hum, the flavors all tangy, spicy, and savory. “I don’t know what your childhood Dorilocos tasted like, but this is really freaking good.”

“Just know that this one is only slightly better. By 0.00001% to be exact,” he said, rubbing sauce off of the corner of your lips and licking it off. The movement was muscle memory for him as he always liked to watch your face when you ate food, especially when it came to any nostalgic or homecooked dishes you never tried before. It warmed his heart to see you find comfort in his favorite foods.

“Well, I can tell you it’s 100% better than the ‘Taco Tuesday’ luncheon my job hosted last month. Nothing but unseasoned ground beef, endless black olives, and store-bought guacamole for two hours,” you respond, shuddering at the memory of soppy taco shells and your coworkers complaining about how spicy the mild salsa was.

“On second thought, this is absolutely a step up. Was the guacamole name brand at least?” He asked, peering up at you with a twist on his lips.

“I’m pretty sure it was a grocery store brand, so no.”

“Damn.”

WINTER 🍫

You were at your apartment in your bed, completely covered under the comforter with a fluffy blanket on top.

It was snowing heavily outside and you were freezing. However, your heater tended to make your apartment feel like a sauna, so you kept snatching the blanket off only to put it back on minutes later. Plus, your cycle was here. Your cramps left you lying on your side, rolling back and forth between the cool side of the bed and the warm side.

Physically, you were exhausted, but mentally, you knew you had so much to get done.

Christmas was just around the corner but you still had so many presents left to buy and wrap. Your job was doing the dreaded Secret Santa gift exchange and you were stuck wondering what gift would appeal to the stuck-up director in the accounting department.

You and Miguel were also hosting a small Christmas party amongst your friends, and there was still food left to buy. To top it all off, you were worried about your gift for Miguel, wondering if a silly little apron saying “Kiss me, I’m Irish” would hide the fact that you spent a ridiculous amount of money on some new tech he was eyeing.

You heard the apartment door open and close.

Knowing it was Miguel, you groan out dramatically.

He opens the bedroom door and peaks inside, “Baby?”

You just groan out again, “Everything hurts, Miggy.”

He comes up to bed and sits on the edge, “I know, amor. I’m sorry.” He bends down to kiss your head. “Want me to plug up the heat pack?”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning into his hands. When he gets up to grab the pack, you whine at his absence.

“I know, I know. I’m coming back,” he says, voice soothing.

Instead of turning the pack on, he removes your covers and sits back down on the edge. You shiver a little bit and he’s quick to cover your body with his, rubbing the top of your head as he kisses your temple.

“Are you feeling too bad to eat something for me?” Miguel asks, the timber of his voice settling you.

You shake your head and lean in closer to him.

“I think I want some food,” you reply, squeezing his body. “I haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Miguel tuts as he sits up and pulls you up with him, “That’s no good, baby. You have to eat so you can feel better. Your body needs it.”

You groan again and put your face in his neck, not wanting to move.

“Come on,” Miguel says, rubbing you from your back to your leg. “I got you some soup and a grilled cheese.”

“Did you get the stuff for the hot chocolate bar? For the party?” you whisper.

“Mm hm. Jumbo marshmallows included.”

You nuzzle his neck before you look at him, “Carry me to the kitchen?”

He makes a swift move to wrap your legs around his body and hike you up.

He gets up and holds you close, heading to the kitchen, “Let’s get some food in you, yeah?”

SPRING 🍇

The short spring break trip that Miguel surprised you with has been lovely. Miguel woke you with kisses down your body, taking you to the hilt with his mouth alone. You had to muffle your cries as to not disturb the neighbors in the inn. As his tongue danced inside of you, you gripped his hair with one hand and his head with your thighs. Miguel wouldn’t want it any other way.

After his first course, Miguel treated you to breakfast on the balcony. You two enjoyed looking over the horizon as you ate yogurt parfaits and fluffy omelets.

Later on, the two of you enjoyed a few tours of the vineyard and the city. The sights were beyond compare and the atmosphere was serene.

“Thank you so much for this Miguel,” you say, interrupting the silence.

“Anything for my lady,” he says back. “You’re doing great work this semester so you need the break.” Miguel stopped and turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You leaned up and kissed him, hands warm on the sides of his face.

You both started to makeout for so long that Miguel forgot about the massage he had planned for you before tonight’s farm-to-table dinner.

Needless to say, he laid you out on your bed and oiled your body down. Your head was in your arms as rubbed his hands up and down your back. His hands were heaven and you felt like puddy by the time he flipped you over.

After he massaged your inner thighs he pounded you into the mattress. Something you’re sure the hired masseuse would never be able to do.

Miguel joked and called it the Miguel Magic Massage when you asked if he offered this special regularly. The price? Being his cariño, his amor, his sweetheart.

By the time dinner started, you were glowing. You felt adored and the courses were amazing.

Miguel made sure everyone knew you were his. His hand never left your thigh the entire meal, staring down the older men sitting at the end table who were looking a little too long at the dip of your dress.

You were oblivious, feeding Miguel bites occasionally and humming at how fresh and delicious everything was.

After the last course was over, the men came to you all’s side of the table quickly. All of them started to make conversation with you, plugging in their businesses, and stuffing their business cards in your hands.

It was as if Miguel was invisible. He scowls deeper when they let out hearty laughs at something you said.

“Are you fellas here with your wives?” Miguel asked loudly, completely irritated. “My wife and I have really enjoyed our time here. It’s a beautiful place for couples.”

Some of the men went red in the face flustered at Miguel catching their scheme. Others just scowled, pissed off at being interrupted.

None of them could answer his question.

You looked at Miguel, eyes heavy and relaxed.

“You gentlemen have a great night,” you said, putting your hand in Miguel’s as he guided you to the exit.

“Your wife, huh?” you asked, core on fire. It was hot watching Miguel get so worked up over you.

“Baby, they were looking at you like you were some fresh meat. Like I wasn’t even sitting there,” he grumbled.

“One of them already offered to bring me on a cruise. He’s staying right next to us,” you say, standing outside your room as Miguel swipes his card at the door. You walked your fingers up his chest, heated over the grit you could see from his profile.

He was oh so upset.

“He’s next to us? Right here?” Miguel asked, voice low.

You nodded as you bit your lip, arm around his neck.

Miguel picked you up and dragged you to the bed. You giggled a little to yourself as he plopped you down. Mission accomplished. Silently, you thank those older men. If it weren’t for their overconfidence, Miguel wouldn’t have been tearing at your clothes like he us right now.

Miguel kept you up almost that whole night, making sure that the neighbors heard your cries. Those old geezers were sure to know his name by the next morning. Buying you a ring wasn’t enough. He needed a bat.

It was all worth it to see the tired and flushed looks of their faces when you all checked out the next day.

SUMMER 🍯

“What the fuck,” you mumble, looking down at the pair of jeans you were trying to put on.

It was early morning. You had a family reunion that you and Miguel would take a bit of a drive to get to.

You made sure that everything was packed the following night. Some clothes to stay for a few days, a few snacks for the road, a book for you to catch up on, and even a crossword puzzle book for Miguel.

You planned ahead. You were diligent. So why is it that when everything else is going right, your pants decide not to button up?

You pulled at the flaps once more, trying your hardest to connect the button with the hole. It fails as they slip from your grasp. You try again, sucking in your stomach as much as you could. You get the button to snap in this time, but it’s digging unbearably into your skin. The zipper fights against you as you try to pull it up.

You huff out in frustration and the pants snap open again.

Defeated, you let out a watery sigh and look in the mirror.

Your stomach was bigger than you last remembered, fupa a little more prominent. Your thighs were also a little thicker, the jeans hugging them a little tight. Your breasts looked a little big in your shirt. The family name stretches a bit more across your bust than the original design intended. Even your face was a little chubbier than normal. When was the last time your jaw was like this? High school?

When did you get like this?

You felt your throat start to burn, a sob building in your system. You’ve always been fine with your body, loving the dips and curves. Adoring your flaws and finding beauty in what society decides is not worthy.

You knew this. You knew that you were beautiful. Why was it so hard to get that thought into your conscience?

You felt the tears roll down as you peeled the jeans off of your legs. They were especially tight at your hips and you wondered how you even forced them past in the first place.

You didn’t know what to do. It was so hot outside, so you needed something comfortable, but those jeans…you had your mind set to wear those jeans.

You rummage through your closet in frustration, pushing and pulling the clothes across the rack.

By the time Miguel found you, you were squatting in the closet, hot tears covering your face.

“Babe, it’s been almost 30 minutes and we need to head out before the work traffic starts-”

Miguel stopped in the doorway as he noticed the state of the closet, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? ¿Que pasó, cariño?”

You wipe furiously at your face, sniffling loud as you hear Miguel push clothes to the side to get to you.

“My pants don’t fit. I don’t think anything else will fit either,” you say, stuttering out your words as Miguel gets to your side.

You let him pull you up into a standing position. You felt defeated.

Miguel looked at you and wiped away the tears that you missed. You feel horrible as your face scrunches up again, tears forming in your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Miguel says, hugging you close. “Listen to me. I know that this feels like a lot, but this is normal. Your body will always change with you. You’re still the same beautiful, gorgeous woman I met years ago and that’s not changing because you got some extra hips, baby.”

“But Miguel,” you say, voice so sad. “I feel like I just got those pants. And. Nothing else in here goes with this shirt. I’m scared that nothing else will fit-”

“And if that’s the case, I’ll buy you new clothes,” Miguel says, pressing kisses over your face. “If these clothes mean that much to you, I’ll take you to the gym. Let me work out with you, but until then, I’m loving your body as is.”

You stare at Miguel, heart beating at his revelation. He stared right back at you, daring you to question or challenge his words.

“Don’t beat yourself up over something like this. If anyone has ever let you feel insecure about your body, they’re an ass, let me deal with them. If I ever do anything to make you feel insecure, tell me. Yell at me. Question me, because as far as I’m concerned, that’s not me.”

He hiked you up on the closet island in the middle of the room. You shiver a bit as your naked legs hit the wood.

He leans closer, placing his hands on the side of you, “Now, let’s think. Don’t you have a pair of cargo shorts that match the ones I’m wearing right now?”

You whisper out a yes.

“Would you be ok with wearing those? I’m sure they fit perfectly.”

You say yes again, head leaning onto his. You could accessorize it perfectly. It would make a great couple’s look.

Miguel knew this much, he just had to get you to see it.

“I love you, ok?” he says, voice clear.

“I love you, too. Thank you,” you say.

“Anything for my girl,” Miguel says. “My beautiful girl. She’s just for me. I can’t believe it.”

Your heart beats faster as he starts to kiss down your body.

“Her face is so lovely.” A kiss to your cheek and your lips.

“She’s always working so hard.” A kiss to your neck and your collarbone. He pulls your shirt over your head.

“She makes me so happy.” A suck to your breasts as he unclasps your bra.

“Her body is beyond comparison.” A trail of kisses down your stomach, your belly twitching as his breath twinkles on along your skin. “Soft. Amazing. Irresistible.”

“Her thighs are my earmuffs.” A caress to your inner thighs. Your legs snap a bit, ticklish at his ministrations.

“Miguel?” you whimper out.

“I have to relax you before this ride. Can’t have you upset,” he says, kissing his way up your thighs to your panties. “May I?”

You nod your head, fingers grasping at nothing but then a flat surface.

Miguel was swift. He pulled your underwear down and kissed at your clit. You could only hold tight as he pulled your body forward and dove in.

It wasn’t long before you were shaking like a leaf. Miguel sucked at you for minutes, pulling a long orgasm out of your system.

He kneaded your thighs as you trembled around his tongue, humming as your legs squeezed tighter. That was the queue for him to go further, so he added his fingers to the mix, moving his mouth up so that his fingers could pump in and out of you.

It took all of your strength not to let your body drop off the other side of the island.

“Miggy, please,” you wailed. You wanted more.

Miguel looked up at you whining above him. You pull your legs up, holding your hands under your thighs, practically begging for him.

Miguel kissed up your body again. He was swift with removing his clothes. You still had to have these clothes fresh for later and Miguel was about to wear you out.

He moved to push himself inside of you, grunting as you gripped him.

He replaced your hands with his and pulled your legs up by his head. You balanced yourself on the island as he slowly started to thrust.

“So good. Just for me,” Miguel said, watching as your body moved with his movement. “Perfect. And all mine.”

You remained quiet, whimpering softly as he dragged against you.

“You heard me, hermosa?” Miguel said. “You’re beautiful. C’mon. Say it for me.”

“I’m,” you stopped, mind foggy. You didn’t know how you were supposed to respond when he was going so deep.

“Say it.”

You cried out as he snapped harder, “I’m beautiful.”

“That’s right baby,” Miguel praises you, bending further to give you a kiss. “So amazing.”

He praised you until you finished, squeezing at any of you that he got his hands. By the time he was done, your arms felt like jelly from holding you up.

He carried you to the bathroom for a quick shower, never stopping his reassurances of you.

You guys made it in the car an hour and a half off schedule, but it was worth it for the uplifted way you carried yourself throughout the day.

It was worth it to see you happy and healthy.

By the time you made it to the reunion, it was like you were born anew. You greeted your family with smiles and laughter. Miguel couldn’t help but to cheese watching you do your thing.

He felt his heart soar as you caught up with family. Your smile was the biggest as you were out on the floor line dancing your heart out. He was right up behind you when Outstanding came on. The song was really a declaration of how he felt about you.

You giggled as he crooned in your ear.

“You light my fire,” he sang, swinging your hips in time with his.

“I feel alive with you, baby,” he spins you around to him, a smile on his face.

“You blow my mind,” he pulled you out and back in.

“I’m satisfied,” you squeal as he spins you in the air and puts you back down to keep dancing.

Outstanding. You really knock him out.

Another season where Miguel adored you more.

Another season where Miguel wanted you to be forever his.

Another season where he made sure he fed you well.

Another season of you making his heart pound.

Another season of your love reaching to the fullest.

Miguel was excited for the next season with you.

As always, I hope you enjoyed reading! 💗

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Let me know how you feel! 🥺🧁

Until next time,

-Lauro 💗

[asonofpeter]

It's My Party

Pairing: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Plus-Sized!Best Friend!Fem!Reader

Summary: It's Rafe's birthday, so he could do whatever he wants, right?

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NON-C0N/DUB-C0N, substance use, alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), nipple play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

A/N: Woah! Where'd this come from? I honestly have no idea, I wrote this in like three days and I love it. My first full Rafe fic? YAY! I've been kinda down so I'm glad I was able to write this! Also pictures in moodboard are my personal perceptions of how Reader looks, doesn't translate into the story besides her being a plus-size queen! Enjoy! 💕💕💕

PLEASE HEED WARNINGS BEFORE READING! I DON'T CONSENT TO THIS WORK BEING REPOSTED, COPIED OR TRANSLATED!

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s my birthday,” Rafe chuckled, leaning back on his arms on your bed. “I wanna make sure the hottest girl at the party is wearing a pretty outfit,” he said, his striking blue eyes running over your frame. 

Your mouth fell open at his comment. You stared back at yourself in the mirror, studying the outfit Rafe had gotten for you. 

It was a dainty light pink sun dress with cherries on it paired with a matching ruffled tie-up cover. It was cute, feminine, soft. 

Just like you. 

“It’s not your birthday yet, Rafe,” you shook your head with a smile, glancing at your best friend before running your hands over the cotton.

“But it will be,” he replied. “So what do you think?” He referred back to the outfit. He had stood up by then, stalking over to you so that his front brushed with your back. The heat of him radiating onto your skin. 

The heat between your legs grew, but you forced it away. Shaking your head clear of any possibilities, you glanced in the mirror to look your best friend in the eyes. 

His intense stare was already on you.

“I love the outfit, but I don’t know about it making me the hottest girl at the party,” you snorted before walking away from the mirror to grab your clothes to change back into. You felt him roll his eyes at your statement but you ignored it as you turned back around to face him.

“You’re already the hottest girl, so that won’t be a problem,” he said, eyes darkening. 

This time you rolled your eyes.

“Really?” You scoffed. “You’re aware that the blonde skinny chicks are going to be throwing themselves at you, right? You won’t even notice I’m there,” you blew out a breath.

While you were comfortable in your own skin, loving your stomach rolls, stretch marks, and flabby skin—you also knew that you weren’t society's beauty standard. So it always confused you when Rafe flirted with you.

He would call you hot one minute and the next you’re seeing a blonde skinny girl walk out of his room with her clothes disheveled.

Still, he was just your best friend and you’re sure he only meant it for a fun laugh. He was never serious. 

As you were about to go into your bathroom, leaving the conversation, you felt a firm hand wrap around your arm.

“Why would I pay attention to those girls when I have you?” He questioned, face hard as he stared at you. “It’s my party and if I say you’re gonna be the hottest girl there, then you’re going to be the hottest girl there,” he squeezed you slightly. 

You exhaled sharply, dropping your gaze as you felt your cheeks flush once more. Sometimes you wondered if Rafe was truly attracted to you or if it was all a big lie just to get in your pants. “Okay, didn’t know it was a big deal,” you ripped your arm away from his grip. 

You also wondered if that curiosity was the reason you knew you’d never want to explore a relationship with him. Curiosity killed the cat and what you have with Rafe now is more than perfect for you to be wandering on a side of regret.

“Just wanted to make it known,” he shrugged, stepping back. “So do you like the outfit?” He asked.

Your face softened as you smiled. “Of course, I love it,” you emphasized, earning a smile from him. You closed the bathroom door behind you leaving him in your room.

Rafe had come over just like any other day. You expected you’d be driving to the club like always but today he had a bag from your favorite store in his hand. His smile brightened at the way your face lit up at the sight of it. 

You assumed it was another piece of jewelry or a handbag he made a habit of buying you. But no, it was an outfit this time around. And it was actually your size. Part of you wondered how he guessed so accurately but then you realized you weren’t giving him enough credit. 

He had bought you a cute outfit for a special occasion, and you were happy. 

“Are we still going to the country club? I’ve been craving their strawberry-mango smoothie,” you stated as you walked out of the bathroom, knowing the fruity drink had been on your mind since you had it well over two weeks ago. 

“We could do whatever you want,” he grinned.

~

There were few things in life Rafe enjoyed. And his birthday was one of them.

It was the one day out of the year that was about him. The one day out of the year when Sarah wasn’t the favorite. The one day out of the year that his dad didn’t look at him with disappointment or disapproval. It was the one day out of the year that he was celebrated just for existing. 

Most importantly, you would go all out. Planning him the perfect day to make him feel extra special. He doesn’t think he’d have any other person do that for him.

The thought brought a smile to his face and it only grew when you opened the door, greeting him immediately.

“Happy birthday!” You wrapped your arms around him, shoving your face in the crook of his neck. 

He wrapped his arms around you, enjoying the smell of your perfume.

“Mr. 21,” you smirked, pulling away. “You feel old?” You joked.

“Not yet,” he reached up to push a piece of hair out of your face. “You look beautiful as always,” he complimented, loving the way you grew flustered. He raked his gaze over your body, taking in each curve, craving to touch the softness of your body, but he noticed a big thing was missing. “Where’s the outfit?” He questioned. 

“It’s in here,” you held up the bag in your hand. “That’s my party outfit, but we’re going golfing and I don’t want to sweat in it,” you explained. 

“I was gonna say,” he smirked before nodding towards his truck, implying it was time to go.

“Have some faith in me, Rafe,” you gazed at him, your eyes sending him a look he couldn’t decipher but his mind told him what he wanted to believe. 

He chuckled in response as he opened the door for you. 

“I have all my faith in you”.

Rafe knew it was the right thing to put all his faith in you. No one ever cared for him more than you, loved him more than you, treated him with respect more than you. You were safe, warm, and reliable. 

He glanced over as you watched the scenery pass by. You had your hands folded neatly in your lap, your skirt stretching over your thick thighs he craved to have wrapped around his waist or his head. 

You were goddamn gorgeous and the thought of you created an unquenchable thirst. Hell, he’s been thirsty since he realized he was attracted to you back in high school. But you were so fucking oblivious to his flirtatious remarks that you’ve never been more than best friends.

Curling his fingers around the steering wheel, he pushed the thought to the back of his head. Focusing on the road.

You arrived at the club shortly later, your water bottle in hand as you made it to the golf carts. You had one job today—sit pretty and cheer Rafe on.

Turning in your seat to face the course, you waved at the two men waiting on Rafe. They waved back before greeting the man of honor. Soon they started their game, Rafe’s name leaving your lips every time he hit the ball.

You didn’t understand the sport, found it rather boring. But it was his birthday so you faked your way through it with the biggest smile on your face. It wasn’t until you were done reapplying your sunscreen that he called your name.

Lifting your head to find him at the bottom of the short hill, he waved you over. You met him and the boys there, a puzzled look on your face.

“It’s the last hole, why don’t you give it a shot?” He grinned, eyes shielded from his sunglasses but you could still feel his intense gaze. 

Sticking your sunglasses in your hair, you squinted to where the flag was. “I don’t know how to play,” you stated matter-of-factly. “Besides, you guys are having fun, I’m just the cheerleader,” you puffed out a small laugh.

“It’s my birthday, c’mon,” Rafe tipped his head. “It’ll be fun,” he encouraged. “I’ll show you”.

You let out a soft breath, caving in. “Just this once,” you pointed. You stepped in front of Rafe’s welcoming stance, allowing him to envelope his arms around you. 

He showed you where to place your hands and position your fingers, his hands on top of yours. Almost every inch of him was pressed against you—his hands rested on your forearms, his chest against your back, and his front pressing against your ass. 

You gulped as the feeling made you hot before you attempted to ignore the proximity but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t. And when he swung the club, following through, you smelled the masculine scent of his cologne, your knees buckling.

“Atta girl,” he grinned, stepping away to watch as the ball landed close to the hole.

“Damn, Y/N,” Kelce chuckled. 

“You should join us for the full game next time,” Topper smirked.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Thanks, guys, but I’m sitting out any future games,” you smiled. 

“You just need a little more convincing,” Rafe slid his arm around your shoulders. 

The four of you began heading back to the carts. Top and Kelce were in front while you and Rafe stayed behind.

“How’s your birthday so far?” 

“It’s more than perfect”.

~

“Wow,” Rafe smirked, watching as you walked out of his bathroom, now changed into the outfit he had specifically picked out for you. He reached for your hand, raising it in the air so you could spin. “You’re incredible,” he breathed out, in a complete daze.

“Rafe,” you dragged, avoiding his gaze as the heat grew on your face. “Thanks for the outfit, it’s really nice,” you played with the sleeves of the cropped cardigan. “But it was really expensive, I-,” you began, but he raised a hand.

“You’ll find a way to repay me,” he finished your thought, his blue eyes darkening. “But right now, we’re gonna celebrate my birthday,” he pointed over his shoulder towards the door where the party was starting.

With your hand in his, you nodded, letting him pull you along. 

You met up with Kelce and Top in the kitchen, everyone wishing Rafe a happy birthday as you passed. You thanked Kelce as he handed you a cup of water. The night was still young so you had enough time to catch up with the rest of the partygoers.

Leaning against the counter, you listened to the guys' conversation, droning in and out of it when parts became boring. It wasn’t until you spotted a few girls making their way toward the group, that a smile appeared on your face when you figured they came for Rafe.

While you held some feelings for Rafe, all you wanted was for him to settle down with a nice girl. One you could maybe be friends with too. It was a little fantasy you had.

“I love your dress, Y/N,” one of the girls complimented, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

The three Kook girls were standing in front of you and Rafe. You were a bit shocked that they acknowledged you first, but you welcomed their kindness.

“Thanks,” you rolled your lips together in a smile. “Your earrings are so cute,” you gestured to the gold hoops she had. 

She hummed before her attention turned to Rafe. “Happy birthday, Rafe,” she brushed her hand along his arm, squeezing his bicep. “Me and a few of my friends are gonna head into the pool if you wanna join,” she batted her lashes.

“Maybe later,” he pressed his lips together in a smile. “I’m with my friend right now,” he slid his arm over your shoulders.

You furrowed your brows, glancing at him like he was insane for turning down her offer. “He’s kidding,” you butted in. “You guys have fun,” you pressed a hand on his back, urging him closer to the girl.

“Awesome!” She beamed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the patio.

Rafe glanced back at you with a look you couldn’t decipher but as he noticed the smile on your lips he only turned back around, shaking his head and chuckling. 

You knew he’d thank you later just as Kelce and Topper did when the other two girls dragged them along to the pool as well. You grabbed your water from the counter before weaving through the house. Just as you were about to go outside for some fresh air, you bumped into someone.

“Shit, my bad,” they apologized, placing a hand on your arm. “You okay?”

You gazed up to see a very handsome guy—tall, with dark eyes, dark hair, and dimples that were so kissable. 

“Yeah,” you shook your head, a little dazed by his beauty. “I’m fine,” you reassured. Many guys on the island were attractive enough to catch your eye, but this guy was something else.

“Can I get you a drink? Since I spilled yours,” he offered and that's when you noticed your cup was on the floor.

“Sure,” you beamed. “It was just water though,” you added with a shrug.

“A water for the lady then,” he grinned. 

You followed him back into the kitchen where he got you a new cup. He had asked if you were heading outside so you nodded as he grabbed your hand, leading you past the pool where you saw Rafe hanging out with the girl from before. 

A smile fell on your face, glad to see him have fun before you stopped at a bench under a tree in the yard. 

“I’ve never seen you around the island,” you told the guy, smoothing out the skirt of your dress before sitting down. 

“I’m visiting my cousin, he brought me along,” he answered. “What about you? You live here?” He gestured to the house.

“Oh, no” you snickered. “My best friend lives here, it’s his party,” you explained. You glanced back at those brown eyes, chewing on your lip as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered. There was a new feeling in your stomach tonight, far from basic attraction—there was more. 

But you couldn’t pinpoint it. Still, the longer you talked to this guy, the more you felt it.

“I was struggling to stand up on that board, that wave was huge!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands. 

You hid your laugh with your hand, doubling over as he told his story. “You’re kidding?! How did you make it?” 

“Pure luck and ambition,” he shrugged, sipping his drink. “But I also learned maybe there’s a reason you shouldn’t surf during a thunderstorm,” he joked.

You agreed. “I’m glad you lived to tell the tale,” you reached over to touch his arm, gazing at him through your lashes.

His eyes flicked over your frame before he hummed out in agreement. “Me too”. 

Silence engulfed you for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped and only you and him were in existence. Letting the feeling in your tummy guide you, you leaned in. 

He followed, reaching over to place a hand on your waist and soon his lips were on yours. Your hand reached up to thread through his hair, deepening the kiss. 

You kissed for what felt like hours but in reality, it was only minutes. It was a soft and innocent kiss, but it felt so intense, so hot. You were fully making out with a stranger at a party and all you could worry about was the heating sensation igniting in your heart.

Unsure of it, you still didn’t want it to stop, unfortunately, it did.

“Watch out!” You heard Rafe scream as a ball flew over your head and bounced off the tree trunk. You yelped, heart racing at the thought that it could’ve hit you square in the face. Immediately, you saw Rafe jog over towards you. 

He was in his swim trunks, chest bare, and water dripping down his abs. 

You licked your lips unconsciously, the familiar feeling burning between your legs but you pushed it aside when you focused your attention back on the guy, making sure he was okay and he placed a hand on your knee in response.

“You okay, Y/N?” Rafe caught up to you. “Didn’t see you until the ball slipped from my hands,” he chuckled, running a hand over his head.

“I’m fine, Rafe,” you reassured.

“Didn’t realize you weren’t alone,” he cleared his throat, sending a glance to the guy.

“This is,” you placed your hand on top of his that was resting on your knee. You paused, realizing you didn’t know his name.

“Eric,” he answered with a smile. 

“Eric,” you repeated, unable to control your growing smile. You liked his name. Turning back to Rafe, you chose to ignore the frown on his face.

“Happy birthday, man,” Eric turned to Rafe. “Sick party,” he smiled and you grinned between him and Rafe. 

“Yeah, thanks, Y/N threw it for me,” Rafe said, his eyes flicking to yours before they rested back on the hand that was on your knee.

“No way, you have a talent,” he squeezed your knee and you felt your cheeks heat up.

You shrugged bashfully and you narrowly missed the snort that left Rafe. 

“I was about to head back inside,” Rafe pointed towards the house. “We were gonna get a few drinks,” he trailed.

“Okay, have fun,” you said. “I’m gonna chill out here with Eric,” you added, leaning into his side. You also chose to ignore the way his jaw clenched.

“Okay, sounds good,” he pressed his lips together in a smile before he made his way back.

Once he was out of your eyesight, you turned back to Eric, threading your fingers through his hair and resuming what you were doing before.

~

Rafe didn’t want to leave you tonight, especially on his birthday. But you had practically pushed him into the girl’s awaiting hands. He didn’t understand why you were so happy to do that, didn’t you see how more perfect you’d be in her place? 

Was he not obvious?

As he stared back at you, the smile adorning your lips, he knew the answer. Which is why he turned back around, allowing the girl to lead him to the pool. 

He tried to have a fun time, jumping in the pool with her. He could admit that she was attractive but nothing compared to you.

As he, the girl, Kelce, and her friend had a chicken fight, his mind continued to wander to where you might be. 

Kelce and Top were in the pool with him, meaning you were alone. You could’ve sat in one of the lounge chairs, enjoying the game, but when he glanced over, you weren’t there. The thought of you alone in the house irked him, what if someone spikes your drink or makes you uncomfortable?

Your laugh answered his prayers but another question came to mind, who was making you laugh?

He was about to jump out of the pool when the girl stopped him, handing him a shot of something while she pressed her boobs against him. He chuckled, taking the shot from her. He was distracted for a moment but then he heard your laugh again. 

This time he exited the pool, leaving the girl dumbfounded. It didn’t take long to find you but he wasn’t expecting you to be so far from the party, alone, with a guy.

He inhaled sharply. 

There was no way, right? He’s been drinking all night, his mind was painting a picture he didn’t want to see. But then the sight of you leaning in to kiss the guy, his hand sliding over your waist and yours fingering through his hair made that anger grow. 

To his side a few guys were kicking a ball around, without another thought, he grabbed it, throwing it in your direction. He knew it’d miss you but he still shouted out your name before he went running in your direction.

You pulled away from the guy, your eyes going wide as the ball hit the tree over your head. 

He checked on you, hoping the incident would make you open your eyes and realize you shouldn’t be spending the night with a stranger on your best friend’s birthday. But that’s not what you had done at all.

Instead, you snuggled up to the guy “Eric”, letting him keep his hand on your knee, and telling Rafe to have fun.

He swallowed down the jealousy, forcing a smile before making his way back to the house. The thought of you outside with him made his blood boil. Even more so when he snorted up a line in the kitchen a few moments later.

The white powder was the second thing that could calm him besides you. Still, he preferred you.

“Eric,” Kelce said the name in thought. “I don’t know an Eric,” he shrugged. 

“I mean look at her man, she seems to like him well enough,” Topper said, glancing at the way you were staring at the dude.

Wiping his nose, Rafe sent him a look. 

There you were, busting out in laughter again at something. “I don’t trust him,” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes locked on you as you giggled behind your hand. 

When had you ever laughed like that towards him before? When had you ever been so focused on a guy other than him? 

“That’s for her to decide,” Kelce laughed. “And by the looks of it, she seems to trust him well enough,” he snickered behind his cup. 

Rafe grimaced, running his tongue over his teeth as Eric rubbed his hand along the exposed skin of your thigh. If he had known the short skirt he explicitly picked out for you would lead to that, he might’ve rethought the outfit entirely.

“Well I don’t, it’s my party, I can decide who’s attending and who’s not,” his gaze darkened and his friends sent him a look.

“Hey, man, Y/N’s having a great time. Are you sure you want to do that?” Topper asked, aware of what Rafe was implying.

“I know what I said,” he stated before he began walking towards you. He heard Topper mutter under his breath but he paid no attention to it.

“Oh, hi,” you turned to face your best friend who appeared in front of you. “Back so sudden?” You asked, gazing behind him where the house was still active. 

“Yeah, I was thinking it was time to head back inside,” he said. “It’s getting kinda cold,” he added.

“I’m fine,” you dismissed. “Do you need me for something or-” You were cut off by him.

“Nah, I just think it’s time for us to head back inside, it’s late,” he stated, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I said I was fine here, Rafe,” you said his name but he didn’t like the way you said it. 

He narrowed his gaze, running a hand over his mouth as he contemplated. “Get inside, Y/N,” he opted to say. The look on your face told him what you were thinking. “I mean it”.

“She said she’s fine,” Eric stood up, blocking Rafe from you. 

Rafe placed his hands on his hips, dropping his head down as he let out a chuckle. “I don’t remember asking you,” he jutted a finger into Eric’s chest. “Actually, I don’t remember inviting you to my party,” he grinned.

You stood behind Eric, frowning as you stared at your best friend. Even under the moonlight, you could see how blown out his eyes were. The knowledge didn’t settle with you. So you stepped around Eric, grabbing hold of Rafe’s arm to prevent anything from escalating.

“C’mon, Rafe, I’ll go,” you sighed.

He relaxed, smiling down at the hand that was intertwined with his and the other on his forearm. He glanced back up at Eric, sending him a look of victory. 

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Eric directed to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you blew out a breath. “It’s best if you go, Eric,” you frowned, tears pricking in your eyes and Rafe couldn’t help but grow angry at that. You shouldn’t be crying over a boy you met a couple of hours ago. With your statement though, Eric left. 

Rafe led you back into the house and he couldn’t help the feeling of pride swell as you clung to his arm.

You, on the other hand, tried to keep a smile on your face but you couldn’t feel the pang in your heart at what you missed out on. Why did Rafe need you back in the house? You wondered.

“C’mon, drink up, it’ll take your mind off of him,” Rafe handed you a cup with some type of liquor in it.

You sent him a look and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s my birthday,” he encouraged. “I want my best friend to be having fun too,” he grinned, pushing the cup into your hand.

You pressed your lips together. “Alright,” you sighed, giving in for the third time today. The bitter taste landed on your tongue and you cringed as it burned down your throat.

Rafe chuckled beside you, quickly pouring you another. “See, you’re having fun already”.

The longer the party went on, the more drinks you had. You weren’t drunk but you could feel the buzz. Reaching for a few of the snacks on the counter, you hoped you’d be able to sober up but Rafe had another idea.

“Let’s head up, yeah?”

You nodded, reaching for his hand as you began making your way up the stairs. You were still down about Eric, but you knew it was better than dealing with Rafe punching the life out of him. You didn’t enjoy his violent tendencies, especially when the white substance made it worse, but you tried to push past it, noting the good qualities he had.

He was loyal, smart, and confident.

Sometimes you wish that was enough for you.

You brushed past him as he opened his bedroom door for you. You found your bag on his bed, searching for his gift deciding now would be a good time to give it to him. Even though you were slightly pissed at him, he was still your best friend and it was his birthday.

He smiled at you when you sat on his bed and patted the spot next to you so he could sit. 

“Happy birthday,” you grinned, passing him the small box, and your shoulders pressed together. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he raised a brow but he took it from you nonetheless.

“Shh, just open it,” you laughed, watching as he did.

His gaze softened at the gold Rolex. He hummed out in delight, thanking you in the process.

“There’s an inscription,” you pointed at the expensive watch. 

He turned the watch over to find that there was. His thumb traced over the words you picked out.

Rafe, you’re worthy of everything. Love, Y/N.

His heart swelled at the sentence. He wasn’t often told he was worthy of anything so for you to say he was meant it all. “Thank you, Y/N,” he swallowed.

You could tell he appreciated the sentiment so you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Anytime for you, Rafe,” you smiled, gazing into his eyes. “What does the birthday boy want to do now? I’m sure the girls are waiting for you to rejoin them in the pool,” you smirked, standing up and walking over to the window. 

Part of you wished that Eric was still outside, but he was long gone. The other part of you already accepted the loss, knowing something worse could've come from it if Rafe had escalated things.

Which in the past, he’s done many times.

You turned back around to face your best friend.

“Nah,” he said after a pause. “I kinda wanna stay up here with you,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s much fun when the party is downstairs,” you pointed towards the window.

“Who says we can’t have a party of our own?” He smirked, holding a small bag in his hand.

“By all means, enjoy yourself, Rafe,” you chuckled. 

“It won’t be fun if you’re not doing it”.

“Rafe,” you warned. 

“C’mon, it’s my birthday,” he said.

“Just this once,” you rolled your eyes, deciding you could indulge for one night.

He smirked, standing up and guiding you to his desk. He lined one up for you, instructing you how to do it. 

You cringed at the feeling, moving from the seat and walking back to the bed as you rubbed your nose.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” he found his spot next to you, laying back on his bed. He folded his arms behind his head and you couldn’t help but peek at his lower abdomen that became exposed from his shirt riding up. “This is probably the best birthday I’ve had,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, why’s that?” You decided to humor him.

He sat up, leaning in close so his chest pressed against your shoulder. “I got the hottest girl in my room, wearing the most beautiful dress,” he sucked in a breath, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. 

Your face grew hot and you gulped. “You could have a hotter girl in here if you didn’t chase Eric away,” you bit, unsure why you said it.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re still sad about that?” 

“I’m just confused,” you breathed out. “I was having a good time with a cute guy, is that so wrong?” You asked.

“Yes,” he stated and your jaw went slack. 

“You’re kidding,” you laughed, shaking your head. 

“It’s your best friend’s birthday and instead of hanging out with him you’re kissing a dude you don’t even know?” He spoke with his hands, his movements becoming erratic and that had you worried. 

“Rafe, I spent the whole day with you, you were hanging out with that girl earlier, what happened to her? She was cute!” You exclaimed.

He stood up, walked over to the window and he ran a hand over his face. He was pacing back and forth in front of you as you shifted on the bed.

“You think I care about her?” He stopped in front of you. “I didn’t want to go in the fucking pool with her but I did because of you!” He shouted. 

You flinched. 

“I don’t give a fuck about any other person besides you!” He yelled. “And it fucking sucks when that feeling isn’t reciprocated by my own fucking best friend,” he huffed, chest rising.

Your heart dropped and felt a sting in the back of your eyes. You didn’t realize you were crying until a sob broke through you. 

Rafe stilled and he let out a sigh. “I-,” he inhaled, pressing his fist to his head. He dropped to his knees in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “You don’t get it, okay? You’re the only one on my side, the only one who makes me feel like I’m not crazy,” he dropped his head to your thigh, his hands squeezing your sides like he was afraid you’d leave. 

“I care so fucking much about you,” you cried. “Everything I do is with you in mind,” you closed your eyes, your hands settling on his head as you began to run your nails along his buzzed hair. “This entire party, the entire day, I chose not to go to college so we could be close, I-,” you sucked in a breath, trying to decide what the point was. “I gave up on what I could have with Eric so you didn’t get upset,” you wiped your eye.

“What you could have?” He lifted his head to stare up at you. “What do you mean by that?” He leaned back. 

“Love, Rafe,” you answered.

“What about us?” He furrowed his brows. 

“Romantic love,” you elaborated. “Why do you think I’m always trying to hook you up with a nice girl?” You tipped your head to the side. 

You both stared at each other in disbelief before Rafe stood up, running his hand over his head. 

“I already told you I don’t want another girl,” he shook his head. “I want you,” he faced you again. 

You were left dumbfounded. 

“Are you honestly that blind?” He narrowed his gaze. 

This time, you stood up. “We’re friends, Rafe, nothing more!” 

He quickly stepped towards you, gripping your face in his hand firmly so you were forced to look at him. “You really think that’s all we’re meant to be?” He scoffed, flicking his gaze over you.

Your eyes were wide and you tried to push him off of you but he instead wrapped his other arm around you to keep you in place.

“Look at us, sweetheart,” he said. “If you really think all we’ll ever be is just friends, then you’re adorable,” he chuckled. “I think it’s about time you realize it was always meant to be us,” he licked his lips, eyes boring into yours. “Tonight was supposed to be perfect, I had it all planned,” he began. “Tonight was the night we were supposed to make things official,” he breathed out.

“Rafe,” you clutched his wrist, trying to pry his hand off of your face. “We’re just friends,” you restated, fear spreading over your eyes.

“We’re just friends,” he mocked you and you frowned, tears pricking in your eyes. “Stop playing dumb, for once, will you?” He taunted. “Did you think we’d go our entire lives without ending up with each other? Why do you think I’ve never dated anyone seriously, or you?” He tipped his head to the side.

Your stomach dropped. Is that why all the boys who were interested in you never lasted or never got the chance to properly ask you out? 

“We get each other, no one else will. We’re from good families and you’re the only girl my father will ever approve of,” he gulped. “So let me ask you again,” he inhaled. “Did you really think we’d never be more than just friends?” 

Your heart dropped. “Is that the only reason you want us to be together? Because of money and status?” You asked, voice shaky. “Am I just some silly pawn to get your father’s approval?” You felt a tear slip down your cheek but Rafe was quick to wipe it away with his thumb.

“Stop asking stupid questions,” he pressed his forehead against yours. 

You shakingly let out a breath, closing your eyes as more tears slipped. The proximity and his grip had you uneased. You were confused. 

“It’s always been you, Y/N,” he rubbed his nose against yours. 

Your breath hitched as you stilled, unsure how to respond. But it seemed like he already knew the answer to his own question. His silence is what caused the sobs to rack through your body.

“Hey,” he cooed, stepping back and letting go of you. “Don’t cry,” he used his thumbs to gently wipe under your eyes. “C’mere,” he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to cry into his chest. 

It felt strange to be consoled by the man who brought tears to your eyes, yet, here you were. Still, there was nothing more comforting than Rafe, you thought.

He led you to sit back on the bed, bringing a tissue to wipe your face once you calmed down. “Cheer up, okay?” His lips curved into a smile. “It’s still my birthday, we should be celebrating”.

You nodded. “You’re right,” you inhaled, hoping this conversation would be left in the past.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed his lips to your temple before he pinched your chin, guiding you to look up at him and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

Your eyes widened and you tried to pull away but the angle you were in made you fear he could break your neck at the grip he had on your chin. Still, as his lips continued to move against yours, you couldn’t help but melt at his touch. 

This feeling was something you’ve been curious about for so long. The fire, desire, and passion that was enveloped in the kiss lit you up. It was intense. He loosened his grip on your chin, cradling the back of your neck as you moved your lips against his. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you moaned, but that was the wake-up call you needed. 

You quickly shoved him away, getting off the bed and creating some distance between the two of you. “You can’t do that!” You pressed your fingers to your lips and you still felt him there.

He stood up, stalking closer to you. With each step, you took one back. “What am I gonna have to do to get you to understand that I can?” He reached for you and he was fast, pulling you against him once more.

He was strong, you’ll give him credit for that and it was scary how you didn’t realize it before.

“Rafe,” you exhaled, turning your head away, feeling the intense presence of his stare.

“Am I gonna have to fuck you?” He hummed. 

Your eyes widened and you struggled to remove yourself from him again.

“I think I’m gonna have to fuck you to get it into your pretty head,” he chuckled, squeezing you tight so you’d stop moving. 

“No,” you shook your head, hands pressing against his biceps. “Rafe, please,” you pleaded.

“Oh, I love it when you beg,” he smirked. “But fine,” he loosened his grip on you. “Give me one night,” he proposed. “One night to show you it’s always meant to be this way, us,” he elaborated.

You dropped your gaze, blanking out as you contemplated. But he took your silence for an answer, dipping his head down to kiss your neck. You gasped, pulling away from him but instead, he pushed you back against the bed.

Crawling further up the bed to get away from him, you didn’t miss the way he looked at you like you were some prey he was getting ready to devour. He chuckled as he forced himself between your thighs, his hands slipping underneath your skirt and hooking around your panties.

It felt like such an out-of-body experience, your legs moving as he slid them off them, your thighs pressed against his shoulders as he laid before your cunt.

“We’d be so good together, sweetheart,” he said, hands kneading the soft flesh of your wonderfully thick thighs. “And I can make you feel just as good,” he said before he dipped his head down and licked a long stripe against your folds.

Your back arched at the feeling. You scratched your nails along his buzzed hair, a moan erupting from you as his tongue flicked around your sensitive bud. The feeling of his chuckle against you made you shudder and you felt embarrassed that he was finding your reaction amusing. 

“Just relax, don’t think too much about it,” he stared up at you before he licked another long stripe. 

You whined, squeezing your thighs around his head in hopes of getting him to stop but it was fruitless. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his focus on your clit as he wrapped his lips around it, sucking until you were a moaning mess beneath him.

Your imagination only took you so far when you thought about this. What it would be like when it would happen if it would ever happen–which you already decided it wouldn’t. But you were wrong about it all. It felt amazing, it was happening on his birthday, and it would happen.

But was it right? Did you want this? Your body was telling you yes but your brain was saying no. Rafe wasn’t the man you wanted to end up with, the man you wanted to have children with. But it seems like he made those choices for you and he was proving so with his tongue.

Staring up at the ceiling, you allowed your hands to rest at your sides, your chest heaving with each breath as you felt the pressure between your legs build. As your mind begged for release, it pushed all your confusing thoughts aside, allowing you to fall over the edge.

You gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came down from your high. 

Rafe licked up your wetness before kissing around your sensitive skin, nipping at your thigh. He pushed the skirt of your dress up, exposing more of your flesh, granting him the desire to kiss every inch as he made his way up your body.

Trying to process what had happened, you felt him unbutton the one button that held your cardigan in place. It took all your strength to swat his hand away.

“Rafe,” you tried to push him away but he didn’t budge. 

“What is it? What’s so wrong about this?” He asked, stopping his movements and holding himself up above you. “Are you going to tell me you never thought about us?” He dipped his head down, whispering against your ear. “Is it me?” He pulled his shirt over his head, a smile appearing on his face. “Because I see the way you look at me and I don’t think it’s me,” he smirked, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. 

The way you rubbed your thighs together and trailed your hand down his abs told him what you were thinking. Of course, you found him attractive, he was a Cameron and the Kook Prince, and he was athletic, muscular, and tall. 

What wasn’t there to like?

“It’s definitely not me,” he chuckled. 

“I can’t,” you forced yourself to say.

“Why not?” 

You didn’t answer so he kissed you. 

“You know how you said you want to repay me for this pretty dress?” He said in between kisses. 

Your breath hitched in response, knowing when you said that. 

“Get on your knees,” he ordered.

You glanced up at him before he urged you to slide off the bed to kneel in front of him. You knew it’d just be one night, he did say that after all, so you figured you’d get this one night over.

He stood in front of you, ridding himself of his clothes. He was naked in front of you and you felt your face heat up at the sight of his aching cock.

“Open,” he directed.

You bit on your lip, hesitantly holding your hands against your chest before you did as you were told and he rested the tip on your tongue, you instinctively wrapped your lips around him, one of your hands reaching up to wrap around the base of his dick.

Glancing up at him, you decided to move, the feel of his length pushing past your lips was interesting. It was strange that he was your best friend but at the same time, you pressed your thighs together for some friction.

You tried to take things slow but he wasn’t patient, instead, he pressed a hand to the back of your head, forcing the rest of himself down your throat. You gagged, feeling his balls press against your chin and he chuckled above you.

“You’re so adorable,” he smirked as he pulled back slightly before he pushed himself in again.

You reacted the same way, this time tears formed in your eyes. Your saliva pooled out of your mouth and you tried to swallow which earned a moan from him. His hands gripped your head, holding you in place as he began to fuck your mouth, the sound of your gagging filling the room mixed with his groans shouldn’t be making you wet but it was.

Pressing your hands against his thighs, you tried to push away, hoping to breathe through your mouth but he kept you there.

“Just relax,” he encouraged, moaning when you swallowed again, pressing your tongue against him. “You’re doing so good,” he groaned.

Digging your nails into his skin, he hissed and with one more thrust, you felt as he came down your throat, your face scrunching as you attempted to swallow it. He finally pulled away, leaving you to gasp for air followed by a fit of coughs. Your hands were pressed against your chest as you heaved.

He grabbed your face with his hand, pressing his lips against yours. The force of his hand on your jaw urged you to stand, his other hand framing the other side of your face as he deepened the kiss. You placed your hands on his arms, feeling weak and he was your only support.

His tongue slipped past your lips and he groaned at your taste. You felt lightheaded but thankfully he sat back on the bed, pulling you into his lap. He moved away from your lips, allowing you to glance up at the ceiling, your hands on his broad shoulders as you caught your breath.

Your eyes closed when he sucked on the skin behind your ear, one of your hands running up the back of his neck, your fingers curling over the soft buzz of his hair.

He undid the button of your cardigan, slipping it off your body and throwing it on the floor somewhere. Then he reached to the side where the zipper sat and undid it as well. He slid the spaghetti straps down your shoulders, pushing the fabric down to release your breasts.

The cold air hit your nipples, causing them to harden. He moaned at the sight, his hands cupping each in one, squeezing them, and rolling your hardened buds between his fingers.

You arched your back, pressing your chest further into his touch. You felt him lean down, wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking gently. You felt hot to the touch, your nails running along his body wherever you wanted. 

Shifting in his lap, you felt him poke at you, his tip brushing with your clit and you shivered.

He switched to the other, doing the same and earning another trail of moans from you. He let it go with a pop, kissing back up your neck and along your jaw. “See how good we are together? Most friends aren’t even compatible, but we are,” he breathed against you. 

You stayed quiet but at this point, he wasn’t looking for an answer, this is how it was always supposed to go.

He guided the dress over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room before he moved you to lay on the bed, your head resting against the pillows. You allowed him to pry your legs open, your hands at your sides as you watched him settle between your thighs.

Realizing he didn’t have a condom on, you opened your mouth. “I’m not on birth control,” you stopped him.

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “We’ll worry about that tomorrow,” he grinned.

You hesitantly let go before you rested back on the bed, nodding slightly.

He lined himself up at your entrance, his hands on your thighs as he pushed your knees to your chest. Slowly, he pressed himself into you and you scratched down his forearms at the feeling. 

“Shh, relax,” he encouraged. 

You took a deep breath in, it’d been so long since you had sex, the familiar pressure building between your legs as he pushed further in. Soon, his hips were pressed against yours and you felt his balls resting against you. It was a new feeling, being connected to somebody completely bare–raw. 

It was odd. But that didn’t stop you from clenching around him to urge him to move.

“See how perfect we fit?” He asked, reeling his hips back before he snapped forward, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure flourished around you.

You whined, tracing your hand around his neck, pulling him down so his forehead was resting against yours. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he inhaled, continuing to fuck you. It was pure bliss, your thighs resting on his hips, spreading wider with each thrust, just like he always wanted. The noise of your wetness was heard in the room, the feel of your walls pulling him back in. It was so pleasurable, that he dropped his head down, running his nose along your neck. “Always been, always will,” he smiled. 

“Rafe,” you moaned, locking your legs together around his waist, your hands running down his back, your hips beginning to match each of his thrusts.

He loved hearing his name fall from your lips. “Do you see now?” He rested his forearms on either side of your head, framing your beautiful face. 

You gulped, hands resting on the curve of his back, your eyelids heavy as he fucked you deeply. 

He chuckled, knowing you were too dazed to answer. “All the times I’ve called you pretty, hot, they all went over your head, didn’t they?” He tipped his head to the side, a hiss escaping him when you squeezed around him. “Even now as I’m fucking you and your creaming around my cock, it still hasn’t stuck, has it?” His eyes shone brightly under his bedroom light, so blue they had you entranced.

That’s all you focused on as you came again, throwing your head back, your toes curling and, your nails leaving scratch marks on his back. 

Your orgasm fueled his, his body stilling against you as he came, releasing into your slick walls. You knew you’d have to worry about it tomorrow, part of you was scared for what was to come, but your body was so relaxed in the pleasure it experienced.

“This is how it was always meant to be,” he whispered, slowly pulling out of you and watching his release slip out of your cunt. “And I’m gonna fuck you until you understand,” he said and you were half-asleep that you didn’t even feel as he pushed it back in. “Thanks for the best birthday”.

~

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[hottpinkpenguin]

The Best Pupil - Feyd Rautha X Fem!Reader

A/n: this is absolutely nothing but pure, depraved, toe-curling smut. MINORS - keep it moving, this is not the fic for you! 18+ only! this is my first time writing for Feyd, also probably my most explicit oneshot yet - happy to do more if anyone has requests :)

Tags: Dom!Reader/Sub!Feyd, breeding kink, curvy/plus size reader, praise kink, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), anal play, orgasm denial, student/teacher vibes, non-canon stuff, soft!Feyd, angst turn to fluff, smutsmutsmutsmuttysmutsmut, plotless smut Word Count: 4160

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You strode into the na-Baron’s bedchamber, pulling back the hood of your rain-soaked cloak. You couldn’t see him in the lightless room, but you knew he was there.

“Feyd.”

Nothing but silence. No bother. You knew how to draw him out. 

You began to pull at the line of clasps that ran down the front of the cloak, locking it like a vice around your silhouette. One by one, the clasps sprang open. The gown you wore underneath was strapless, and you let the cloak fall off your shoulders to reveal your skin to the light of Giedi Prime’s moon. You could practically smell Feyd’s excitement, even if you couldn’t see him. You knew his eyes were drinking you in from the darkness. You tilted your head back, your eyelids fluttering closed as you undid the final clasp, letting the cloak pool at your feet.

This time, you heard an audible inhale as Feyd slunk towards you out of the shadows. You wore nothing but a sheer gauzy black gown underneath, putting your ample curves on full display for your na-Baron. Your nipples were already hard and chafing against the barely-there material of your dress.

“Come out and play, Feyd,” you simmered. He was on you before his name fell quiet off your tongue. 

“Priestess.” He exhaled as he said your title, the way he lingered on the s’s sending a shiver up your spine. Your hands found his face easily - smooth, soft skin pulled taut over the hard lines of his jaw. You let your fingers dance small circles across his cheeks, lips, and brow. He was panting but perfectly still in front of you. Just like you’d taught him. You smirked as you found his lips, trembling with anticipation, and plunged two your fingers inside his mouth. 

“Suck.” Feyd, ever eager to please you, obeyed. His lips closed in around your digits and you felt his tongue dance over your fingertips. Delicate and restrained. 

“Such a good boy for me.” Feyd whimpered in ecstasy at your praise. You saw his eyes close as he doubled his efforts on your fingers. You moved them around his mouth, reaching back to touch his molars and running them along the inside of his cheeks. He was vibrating, his hands desperate to touch you, to rip the layers of your gown off you and lose himself in your body. But years of training had left him completely under your control. Feyd-Rautha, the brutal heir to the blood-soaked Harkonnen legacy, was putty in your deft hands. 

“Good job, na-Baron,” you cooed as you pulled your fingers out of his mouth. His greedy mouth tried to follow your fingers, desperate for more of you, all of you, any part of you that you would grant him. You thought about smacking him, making him kneel, maybe punishing him for being so needy by retiring to your private quarters and leaving him hopelessly unfulfilled until the next lunar cycle. But your body was keening for release, desperate for him inside you, pounding into you until you couldn’t breathe, couldn't talk, couldn’t think.

“Patience, my love. Patience.” Feyd bit his lip as his eyes poured into you, waiting for your next move, his next command. 

“Watch.”

Only the simmer in his eyes betrayed his frustration at being denied the satisfaction of your skin. He nodded with a lovesick pout as you walked past him, over to his expansive bed. Black silk sheets were strewn like pools of water over the bed. You sank backwards onto the mattress, hiking the delicate fabric of your see-through gown up over your thighs. You leaned back, exposing your pussy to Feyd. His eyes devoured the sight greedily as he bit down hard on his bottom lip, trying to control his desire for you.

“Come here. Kneel.” You pointed at the smooth, marbled floor in front of where your legs were propped up and spread open. You could feel the cool night breeze hitting the moisture already pooled in between your thighs. Feyd obeyed, moving with restrained strength as he came to kneel before you. The muscles in his neck and jaw were locked tight, every fiber of his concentration bent on restraint. 

“Closer, na-Baron. Close enough to smell me.” 

Feyd’s eyes flicked over your face as he obeyed your torturous commands. He sidled closer to your wet slit, so close that you could feel his heavy exhales on your thighs. 

“So obedient,” you purred, letting your fingers - still damp with his spit - begin dancing over your sensitive clit. You gasped at the sensation, your free hand coming to cup one of your breasts. Your cunt shuddered, clamping down on nothing. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve let you have me,” you commented idly, your eyes locking with Feyd’s. He held your gaze, knowing that’s what you expected of him. He nodded once, a nod of pure agony. “I wonder, na-Baron,” you paused as you slid two fingers inside of you, your breath hitching in your throat at the sensation. Feyd fidgeted where he knelt in front of you. Your knuckles brushed the tip of his nose as you began working in and out of yourself. “Are you ready to please me after all this time away? Or will you give in to baser instincts?” 

You cocked an eyebrow at him, inviting him to reply. The sight of him, kneeling and stockstill between your spread-eagle legs, sent a shockwave of delight sprinkling over your skin. You threw your head back as you gave him permission to reply: “Speak.”

“Your pleasure is always my sole concern, Priestess.” Gods, he really meant it too. You were hardest on Feyd because he was your most gifted student. Endowed with impressive physicality and astounding stamina, you’d taken great care to shape his will to your needs over the years. And he always satisfied you. Always. 

“Then show me, na-Baron. Eat until I can’t tell you not to anymore.”

His eyes glittered with anticipation as he waited for the word that set him free. You pulled your fingers out of your pussy, licking your moisture off of them with a throaty moan, and settled into a propped-up position so you could watch the show. 

“Begin.” 

Your command sent Feyd into a frenzy. He dove into you like a predator, his mouth clamping down on your already twitching cunt with primal ferocity. He growled against you, arms hooking around your thighs and locking you in place. You cried out instantly, back arching off the bed as his tongue found your sensitive bud and he slipped three fingers inside you with force. 

Your first orgasm crashed against you fast and hard. Your thighs shook with pleasure as Feyd lapped and sucked and stroked you with his tongue, moaning at the sight of you coming on his mouth. You collapsed fully back to the mattress, your hands coming to his head and dragging him harder against your mound. He practically roared into you as he curled his fingers upwards inside you, pressing and pounding in and out. Your first orgasm hadn’t fully receded before you felt the coil deep within your core snapping again. Incoherent words and splinters of his name spilled from your lips as you screamed out loudly. The sound drove Feyd-Rautha mad. You knew others could hear you, and it didn’t matter. You were his Priestess, and he was your na-Baron. Let them listen.

Your entire body was shaking from the force of your pleasure when Feyd pulled back from your mound, wrenching your hips sideways to flip you 180 degrees over onto your stomach. You slammed down on the luxuriously soft sheets with a grunt of surprise. Feyd’s mouth was back on you in an instant, greedily digging at your cunt from a new angle. His fingers pulled back from your slick slit, moving upwards to your other entry and pressing inwards. 

The initial gasp of surprise turned into a chuckle, and Feyd that further coaxed into a gurgled moan of pleasure as he stretched your ass. His fingers were sopping from your orgasms and his spittle. They slid in and out of you easily. He knew your body better than his lungs knew air, and he showcased his skill with relish. Another wave of pleasure crested inside you, turning your muscles to jelly as you buried your face in the sheets, crying out his name in ecstasy. Liquid gushed from between your legs and onto his face. He groaned at the taste, lapping up every last drop as he shook his face against you, elongating the pulsing of your climax. You tried to scoot away from him, out of his grip, but you’d trained him too thoroughly to let you escape now. Your body felt like it was on fire, your oversensitive clit pounding in time with the flicks of his tongue. 

“Stop, Feyd, stop.” He only chuckled and kept going, remembering your command: eat until I can’t tell you not to anymore. 

Your fourth orgasm wiped your mind clear of any coherent thought. You were too weak, too undone to even protest. You simply closed your eyes and let Feyd guide you through. He sensed the change, his attention becoming less feral and gentler. He danced his mouth over your clit in a delicately decrescendoing pattern, letting you settle back into your body softly. When you finally reared up, hair mussed and your gown completely twisted around your midsection, he pulled off of you. He’d done well, followed your commands exactly. You clumsily flipped yourself back over, spots dancing in your vision. He was stripping off his black fighting leathers at the foot of the bed, his smooth, muscled skin shining in the dim moonlight of his chamber. 

“Priestess. I trust you’re not disappointed with my performance?” A lesser man would have smirked with smugness at that question. Evidence of your satisfaction was literally dripping off his chin. But not Feyd-Rautha. His voice was devastatingly sincere, his eyes drinking you in, waiting, begging, for your praise. 

You smiled at him, running your tongue over your lips as his erect cock sprang free of his trousers. 

“Your Priestess is never disappointed when you’re so obedient for me,” you replied. You saw Feyd shiver. He moved involuntarily to fist himself, but stilled, remembering that you had yet to allow him. 

“What would my Priestess have with me next?” he asked quietly. A dark quality to his voice, a deepening wont. The game was heating up. This was the part Feyd loved: putting aside his imminent pleasure for you. He’d done it a thousand times for you. Fuck you right up until he was shuddering with the first waves of his own finish, and then pull back from the edge at the very last moment. You’d hold him in limbo for hours, sometimes days, before you’d let him release. 

But tonight wouldn’t be like that. Tonight was different. Tonight you had news. 

“Before that, na-Baron. We have business to discuss.” You motioned for him to join you on the bed next to you. His eyes widened in anticipation, wondering what you had in store for him. He did as you bade and sank onto the silken sheets next to you. His cock bounced beguilingly as he sat, and you smirked, leaning over and taking his length in your mouth in one smooth motion. He moaned, his head throwing back, as a hand twined itself in your hair. No pressure, no guidance or demand in the touch. Just a need to feel you, to hold you. You allowed it.

You slid your mouth up and down his shaft a few times, the salty tang of his precum staining the back of your tongue. With your lips sealed shut around his member, you let your tongue trace patterns up and down the shaft and across the head as you pumped up and down. You knew just how Feyd liked it, and you felt his dick twitch appreciatively at the attention.

“What is this business, Priestess?” His voice was breathy with lust. You pulled back, letting his girth spring out of your lips with a little pop. He gasped softly and let you push his torso backwards onto the mattress. 

“I received a message from the Emperor’s Rite, the head of my order.” You guided Feyd’s feet upwards off the cool stone floor until he was lying prone on his back with his knees bent upwards against his chest. You moved yourself below him, kneeling off the edge of the bed, his backside and balls exposed to you. 

“The Rite, as you remember, makes decisions about mixing bloodlines.” You were dragging this out, and you could sense Feyd’s confusion. Determined not to let him think too far ahead, you let a dollop of spit drip out of your mouth onto his thick cock, and using one of your hands coated his length with it. 

“I remember,” he replied hoarsely. 

You licked a stripe from the base of his cock down over his balls and below, to the soft spot above his ass. He gasped - eyes rolling back in his head in ecstasy - as you applied pressure there with a finger, your other hand pumping up and down on his shaft.

“The Rite has bidden me to conceive a child,” you continued. The words fell heavy on Feyd’s ears, and you felt his breath still in his chest. Feyd-Rautha hadn’t taken another woman to his bed in over six years, nor you another man. The na-Baron was dangerously jealous, and even if you were to command it of him, you knew it was beyond his ability to restrain himself from killing any man who had you in the ways he did. 

You continued your ministrations to his cock, applying pulsing pressure to the soft skin behind his balls in time with your strokes. Despite his obvious distraction at your words, his body responded with delightful predictability. His breath was growing huskier, his focus drifting.

“Conceive with who, Priestess?” he managed to choke out. Even through the fog of sex, you heard the low tone of threat in his words. You smiled, glad he couldn’t see you spoil the moment in the darkness. 

“With the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.” 

Feyd’s head snapped up just as you attached your mouth to one of his balls and sucked, drawing forth a moaning cry of pleasure from him. You felt Feyd’s core muscles grind down on themselves as he shook with the force of an orgasm. Years of your careful training had shown him how to crest in pleasure without spilling his seed, something that had always been of paramount importance for the two of you. Preventing a pregnancy was your chief concern as the na-Baron’s Priestess. Until now, that was.

You continued the carefully orchestrated dance between your two hands and your mouth to coax him through his climax, his legs quaking around you as you tested the limits of his release. You loved him like this - totally vulnerable, totally trusting of you. No one else in the galaxy knew this Feyd-Rautha. No one else had this power to break him down and put him back together. And now, with what you’d just told him, no one else ever would. 

When he was coherent enough to speak, he sat upright, grabbing your chin between his forefinger and his thumb. His gaze was probing as he captured your eyes with his.

“Don’t jest, Priestess. Please.” His speech was sloppy with a mix of apprehension and longing.

You chuckled, grabbing the hand that captured your chin and pressing a kiss to his trembling knuckles. 

“Am I to assume you’re not up to the task of fathering my child, na-Baron?” You gave him a wicked smirk, your eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Much to your surprise, tears of sincerity pooled at your lash line. One slipped out, sliding down your cheek until Feyd - uncharacteristically gentle - swiped it away. His hands came to frame both sides of your face as he stared into you. Feyd had never seen such a vision, never dreamt of this moment. His consorts with you had been sanctioned by the Emperor’s Rite, of course, but it was typical for nobles in the Great Houses to take sexual instruction from the Priestesses. He’d always known that you’d be tasked with conceiving a child for the furtherance of a chosen bloodline. He hadn’t let himself dare to hope that it would be his bloodline. 

For the first time since his training with you had begun over six years ago, Feyd-Rautha leaned forward and captured your lips with his. Kissing was strictly forbidden between Priestesses and their consort-pupils. It was considered too intimate, too familiar. He’d seen your lips wrapped around his cock a thousand times, but he’d never tasted them with his own mouth. He was encouraged that you didn’t pull back or toy with him. Instead, your lips met his with a matched neediness. The two of you found your rhythm easily, your tongue darting over his lips coyly. He smiled against you, his hands cupping the back of your head and pulling you deeper into him. He could taste the faintest trace of himself on your tongue, and it drove him wilder. Only until he felt close enough to swallow your heartbeats did he pull back ever so slightly, holding you still a hair’s width away from him. You looked up at him through thick lashes, your breath warm on his skin. 

“When have I ever disappointed you, my Priestess.” This time, it was his turn to smirk. He leaned in for another kiss, deep and passionate. You murmured against him the only word he needed - “Begin” - and he felt his restraint tear loose from six years of carefully constructed ritual. 

He leaned back, pulling you on top of him until your bodies were melded together in a long line. He loved the way you felt on top of him - soft and full and womanly. Warm and soft and totally fucking his. The gauzy fabric of your gown left too much skin inaccessible to his touch, so he ripped the material with ease, sliding the torn fabric out from between you and casting it aside. You kept your mouth locked on his, his mind fracturing under the weight of so many distracting sensations. He felt you reach down for his cock, steadying it between you as you shifted your hips and placed him at your entrance. 

He exhaled throatily to feel how wet you were - how ready. Normally, he would have taken his cue from you, but the news you’d just delivered had changed something. Feyd-Rautha was no longer simply your pupil. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was to be the father of your child, he was to be your breeder. 

His hands found your hips, holding you still as he thrust upwards into your folds, sheathing himself inside you with a merciless ferocity. A gasp of shivering pleasure fell off your tongue. Feyd repeated the same motion - withdrawing from your cunt completely before thrusting back up into you with a strong, hard stroke. Your tits bounced eagerly as you held yourself up above him, the entirety of your body on display for him. Feyd’s gaze raked over your curves, imagining how your breasts would get heavy and your belly swell with child. His child. The thought drove him mad. 

With a roar of desire, he flipped you over on your back, throwing your legs up to your shoulders until he had you bent completely in half. He pounded into you over and over again, coaxing another fast, brutal orgasm out of your fluttering cunt. He felt your walls convulsing around him, watched your face as you gasped out his name. Your hands grabbed at him, dragging nails down his back and pulling at his ass. As if you wanted to pull him into the very center of you, beneath your skin. If such a thing were possible, I would do it, he thought with blazing possessiveness. He leaned forward, muffling his name on your lips. You were too gone, too blissed out, to kiss him back with any dexterity whatsoever, but he didn’t mind. He wanted you broken in half with the force of him, absolutely shattered in a million little pieces of fucked out pleasure. And then, only when you were completely undone beneath him, would he loose himself inside you. He’d never spilled his cum inside your cunt. He’d painted your tits, your backside, your face, your hair with it. He’d emptied himself inside your ass before, but never inside your perfect, pounded out pussy. Goosebumps pricked across his back at the thought.

“Going to fucking come inside you, Priestess,” he moaned, feeling his release approaching. Seeing you bouncing wildly beneath him, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, was sending him hurtling towards unraveling. “Going to breed you with my child. Breed you until you can’t breath. My beautiful Priestess, my only Priestess. So fucking good to me. Say I can, Priestess. Let me come inside.” 

He didn’t know whether he was speaking out loud anymore, but you understood him. “Breed me, Feyd,” you gasped, eyes locking with his. Feyd let his mind splinter into a white fog as his forehead connected with yours. He felt your breath fanning across his face as you whined his name, felt your body slick with sweat bouncing underneath him as his movements became sloppy, felt your pussy squeezing around him as pumped himself into you. He felt like the very core of his body had become unlaced, deliciously undone. He managed to hold his weight off of you until he was utterly spent, and then collapsed on you. You didn’t seem to mind, your hips splayed open underneath him where the two of you were still connected. He could feel wetness seeping out of you - his wetness, he realized - but even that didn’t rouse him. He listened to the sound of your heartbeat matching his, let the feeling of your breath on his ear lull him in and out of the fog like a dream. Moments passed by slowly. Inch by inch, Feyd felt blood flood back into his hands, his legs, his arms. 

He pressed himself upwards enough to look down at you. Your eyes were shut, a dreamy smile on your full lips. Your hair was splayed around you like a halo - no, a goddamn crown, he realized. 

“Marry me.” 

You chuckled at his words, one of your hands coming to the skin of his back, lazily dragging back and forth across his skin. 

“Marry me, Priestess.” More insistent this time. His intention was clearer, his future beginning to lock into place in his mind. Nothing made more sense than to bind you to him.

You turned to look at him, your brows furrowed. Your lips were puffy, your skin glistening with the results of your mutual exertions.

“Marriage?” Feyd wasn’t surprised you were skeptical. Priestesses - even when they were bred - were rarely proposed to. Their purpose to the Great Houses began with tutelage and ended with child-bearing. Marrying a Priestess didn’t convey any political advantage or advance the interests of the Harkonnen household. But Feyd-Rautha would burn Giedi Prime and the entire galaxy for you. He’d always known that, but never before allowed himself to acknowledge it. 

He slid sideways off of you, propping his head up on one elbow. His eyes traced down the lines of your body as mirrored his position. He couldn’t help but thread a hand between your thighs, feeling the warmth of his cum mixed with your juices there. You were oversensitive and moaned in protest at the intrusion, but he shushed you gently. 

“Marry me, Priestess. I’ll give you the galaxy. I’ll pluck every star from the sky for you.”

You considered his words carefully, your expression serious as you held his gaze. He felt one of your hands land on his cheek, your thumb running across his lips. 

“I don’t need the galaxy, na-Baron,” you replied after a few quiet moments. “But I will marry you.” 

Feyd captured your lips in his, a soft and gentle kiss. He’d never known this type of feeling before. A soft, fluttering lightness in his chest. Joy, he thought. This is joy. 

You pulled back from him gently, merriment dancing in your large eyes. “Although, na-Baron, since you’re offering… I will take a warm cloth.” 

For one of the first times in his life, Feyd-Rautha - heir to Harkonnen house and all its bloodied riches, one of the most skilled assassins in the galaxy - laughed. 

“Anything for you, my Priestess,” he murmured, rising from the sheets. He strode over to the washroom attached to his bedchamber, glancing back at you, draped like a goddess over his bed. This, I can get used to, he thought with joy as he set off to fetch that cloth for you. 

[base0h]

Hiiii. So this is my first time requesting or anything so I’m kinda really nervous??? Anyways, I love your crack fics, I literally giggle non stop and they bring light into my soul.

So, that being said, I have a request. Could you do something with Crocodile and Ace (and whichever other characters) reacting to their s/o having a spider or some type of scary bug on their back? Idk if your can go anywhere with this but hey, it’s worth a shot.

Okay that’s it bye bye have a good day :)))

a/n - omg I’m so glad I can bring light into your life 😭🫶 literally my goal when I’m writing this stuff 💜 oml bro crocodile is afraid of bugs I just know he is 💀 that’s why he had robin, so she could handle them for him

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, crack, crocodile would leave you with the the bug just to run as far away as possible 💀🫶

- pls if he sees a single bug in his house he’d move out of his mansion and go to another sea of ocean 💀

- don’t get me wrong he takes you with him of course and makes sure you’re protected from those heinous insects. Get ready for loads of bug spray and pest killing chemicals, because your house is going to smell like that for at least a couple weeks 😃🫶

- so one day, you’re relaxing on the sofa, listening to some ambient music, the lights a bit dimmed, with the shutters open just enough for some light to shine through without being too harsh. It was a weekend, so it was due time for some relaxation!

- crocodile had just gotten finished with his work, and finally he’d get to spend some quality time with you. As he walked over, getting ready to join you on the couch, he froze.

- his eyes were locked onto your back, his breathing completely stopped, his body stiff as a board

- a tiny black speck on your back was… moving. Could that be a- SPIDER? You turned around because you heard footsteps, and you looked confused to see crocodile just- frozen, with wide, disgusted, fearful eyes as if you just committed some heinous crime against humanity

- “….Crocodile? You ok?”

- …

- “Hello???? Earth to crocodile?”

- “Y/n. You know I love you right?“

- “…What?”

- “Then you know why I must do this.”

- “What do you me- hey where’re you going?!”

- to go bag (he has one prepared for this exact situation bruh 💀) materializes out of thin air, then cue crocodile skedaddling out the door without explaining or warning you like a scared selfish asshole

- “CROCODILE IT’S NOT EVEN THE SIZE OF MY FINGERNAIL.”

- “IT’S AN INSECT Y/N.”

- “SO YOU’D LEAVE ME WITH THE FUCKING BUG SO YOU COULD GET AWAY FIRST-? 😭”

- “..well of course I would’ve sent someone back for you-“

- “SENT SOMEONE?!”

- see now ace is afraid of bugs too. But he’s not a selfish asshole like crocodile 💀 bro would at least try and protect you while screaming and sobbing

- you two were relaxing, snuggling together and watching the sun set on the deck of the Moby dick. It always never failed to amaze you with how many colors spread across the sky.

- ace absolutely adored these moments with you. It made him feel so- alive but also dead at the same time. Because how could one be this happy and in love with you?

- he looked down at you, and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head, and that’s when he saw… it

- cue the scream of a demon plus a kid who just saw a clown

- “WTF ACE WHAT?!”

- “BABE- DO NOT MOVE. THERE’S A BIGASS BUG ON YOUR HEAD.”

- “EXCUSE ME?!”

- ace grabbed his shoe in a panic, and aimed directly at your head. But since he was so afraid, he was closing his eyes.. as he was swinging to kill the bug.. and he ended up slapping the absolute shit out of you instead of the bug

- “Phew, think I got it- Y/N?! WHAT HAPPENED ARE YOU OK?!”

- “WDYM AM I OK YOU SLAPPED THE SHIT OUT OF ME-“

- “Sorry.. OH SHIT I MISSED-“

- “NONONONO ACE WAIT-“

- you got hit five times before he actually got it. 💀🫶 I hope your brain isn’t damaged 😭

- luffy was one of those kids who collected beetles and watched them fight each other like it was the most intense battle he’s ever seen 💀

- so of course he’s not afraid of them. Bro likes them so much that he doesn’t know if the one piece is better or if beetles are better 😭

- luffy was rambling to you about the various different types of beetles, and which ones were the strongest in fights. He was giving you the WHOLE lowdown, their stats, weaknesses, special skills, traits, etc. 💀 you were surprised luffy had this level of knowledge on- anything really

- “Yeah so the atlas beetle can DEFINITELY take down the rhino beetle because of its really tough shell and- OH MY GOD-“

- “Huh-?! What’s wrong?!”

- “OMG OMG Y/N YOU HAVE AN ATLAS BEETLE ON YOUR HEAD!”

- “Luffy you better be joking. Is it even April yet?”

- “Nono it’s right here see?”

- he pulled it off your head and put it in front of your face. The way you froze, and the way your heart stopped, dropped down to your feet, and then climbed back up 😭

- you couldn’t even scream, you just got up and hauled ass away from whatever that abomination of a creature was

- “Y/n where are you going?! I have to show you how it fights!”

- “I’M PERFECTLY FINE NOT SEEING THAT LUFFY-“

- “But y/n they really like you! You’ve got a rhino beetle on your back too!”

- “WHAT?!”

- you legit stopped, dropped, and rolled 💀💀💀 poor robin was watching the whole thing transpire from really far away so she couldn’t hear the context of what the hell was happening 😭

a/n - bro I missed writing these. I’m a bit rusty tho 😂

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

It’s your first day at work. Your nerves have simmered over to a nice whirlwind. Even as you sit at your desk, going through the various training materials. You haven’t managed to calm down. Your heart is beating so fast.

Everyone’s been nice. You don’t know why you’re jittering. Like your mother says, you’re overthinking, and like your father says, you need to sit still. You grab the armrests and try to make yourself stop moving. It only makes you want to boil over.

You swivel back and forth and look at your coworkers. They’re all so busy like bees in a hive. They know exactly what they’re doing and you still feel lost as you sift through endless SOPs and corporate training videos.

You see a woman with purplish red curls with a mug, steam curling over the brim. Ah, that’s a good excuse for a break. You still need to figure out the office coffee machine. Daniella, your supervisor, briefly pointed it out during her tour. It’s one of those fancy industrial pod brewers.

You stand and nearly skip between the desks. Be cool. You slow your pace and hold your shoulders straight, your squared toed kitten heels clacking on the tile. You poke your head into the kitchen and find only one other employee inside.

The man’s shoulders are broad and straight as he stares silently at the coffee machine. It grinds and spurts out dark coffee. You come up next to him to peruse the spinning rack of pods, tapping your chin as you think. You peek over at him.

“Hi,” you smile, “any recommendations?”

His pale blue eyes meet yours for an instant before quickly flicking back to his cup. A plain black porcelain mug without any decoration or glitz. You already know which cup you want to bring in; the one that looks like a honey pot and has a small lid resembling a bear sticking his head out with a little honeycomb stitch between his ears.

You take one of the paper cups and a pod of the butterscotch twist. You stand back and wait your turn. He scowls as if mentally urging the cup to fill.

“I’m…” you introduce yourself, “I just started over in Research and Development.”

He doesn’t respond. He puts his hands behind him, clutching them tightly as his forearms tense. The tendons bulge out beneath his skin. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, a grey button up with black trousers. A bit grim but an aesthetic for sure. There’s several rings on his fingers as they curl around each other.

“It’s my first day,” you continue the one-sided conversation, “so… that’s why you never saw me before.”

He growls and grabs his cup as the machine dings. He doesn’t acknowledge you as he turns on his heel and marches out. You watch his back and shrug, blowing out between your lips. You get it, some people aren’t the social type.

You put your cup under the spout and tap the touchscreen. It takes you a lot of poking around to figure out how to brew the coffee. You step back and wait. Caffeine should definitely help your nerves… fuel them at least.

💗

Lunchtime comes and you grab your bento box and head down to the cafeteria. Daniella said you could eat your desk if you wished but you need a break from the screen. Besides, you notice that most people don’t.

You enter the cafeteria. There are tables here and there but they’re already crowded. You notice a few people from your department and head over to that table. Tammy moves her bag onto the seat before you can claim it. You frown and apologise as you back away.

Hmm.

You look around. You don’t know anyone. You don’t mind making new friends but it’s like high school all over again. Everyone has their clique and you’re just wandering in between.

Your gaze falls on the only table with more than one seat free. There’s a single person sitting at it, his head down as he runs his hand over his close cut hair. Hey, it’s… that guy. He didn’t give you his name.

You cross the room and near a chair, putting your hand on the back of it as you hover by the table.

“Hi, um, do you mind if I sit here?”

His eyes dart up and he says nothing. He shrugs and sits back, smoothing out the pages of the book in front of him. You sit, your bento box clanging loudly as you do. You give a sheepish smile as he clears his throat but doesn’t look at you.

You flip back the clasp and pop open the lid. He shifts in his chair as you take out your plastic cutlery from the little compartment. You try to be quiet but you can’t help but hit the fork off the side.

You look over at him. He has only his empty mug and a half-eaten protein bar. You look back at your colourful medley of food. Maybe he’s on a diet.

“Do you like hummus?” You ask.

He doesn’t look up. You bite your lip. You’re just being friendly but maybe he’s not hungry.

“Um, uh, you remember me?” You poke at your couscous, “from the kitchen? I didn’t get your name.”

He sighs and turns the page. You nod. Not much of a talker. You let your fork lean on the edge of the bento and grab the sides of your chair, scraping it closer. He snarls and finally looks at you.

You stop and show your teeth like a threatened animal. His jaw clenches and he refocus on his book. You stir the couscous and take a bite, swallowing as your curiosity piques.

“What are you read–”

“I’m not,” he grits and shuts the book without marking the page.

He stands and pockets the protein bar, swiping up his mug and book. You gape at him, stunned. You don’t know why he’s so upset. You’re just trying to be polite. He storms away and you frown at your food. Well, you’ve always got a friend in snacks!

[motherofdogs1010]

Masterlist

I write with chubby-coded/plus sized, racial inclusive readers in mind; very rarely do I mention anything about a reader's physical appearance, all are welcome and are written in mind for everyone to enjoy!!

Must be 18+ to join taglists

I also take frequent mental health breaks since I do suffer from poor mental health, BUT writing is my safe space so I will always come back to you guys ❤️

Key:

💋 18 + Smut

😊 Fluff

💔 Angst

🖤 Dark Storyline

😉 Omegaverse

Laurel Sickness (Sonny Carisi x Reader) 🖤

Summary: Laurel Sickness is an case of extreme case of obsessive love that is sweeping the globe with no explanation. People are becoming just as mad as Apollo once was when he first set his godly eyes on the virgin nymph, Daphne.

Warnings: 18+ only, dark!fic, toxic behavior, gaslighting, dystopian society, dark!Sonny Carisi, stalking, stalker!Sonny Carisi, the world's messed up in this story, age gap relationship, forced relationship, eventual non-con/dub-con, Stockholm Syndrome

Part I Part II TBA

Need to Know (Peter Parker x Reader) 💋

Inspired by Doja Cat's "Need to Know"

Summary: When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider.

Warnings: older woman/younger man, age gap relationship, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, daddy kink, mentions of cheating, toxic ex behavior, eventual pregnancy

Part I Part II Part III COMING SOON

Please, Please (Peter Parker x Reader) 💋

Re-write of 'Need to Know'

Part I

Little Darling (Thomas Shelby x Reader) 💋

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual smut, stripper!reader, mentions of prostitution/sex work, canon Peaky Blinders violence, swearing, drinking

Part I Part II Part III Part IV COMING SOON

Letters to Juliet & Romeo (Thomas Shelby x Reader) 😊💔

Inspired by 'Letters to Juliet' film...

Summary: Heartbroken and in the midst of the Great War as a nurse, Y/N L/N writes to a person she never expected to write to before... her brother's friend, Thomas Shelby... But the war's over now and it is time to face the letters...

Warnings: angst, wartime talk, fluff, reunion, pre-Peaky Blinders Tommy, solider!Tommy, nurse!Reader, chubby!reader, age gap (everyone is of age)

Part I Part II

Of Messiahs and Seeds (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader) 🖤💋

Summary: Emperor Paul of House Atreides has set forth with expansion of his empire on the planets that have resisted and has now come across the last stronghold that resists him: Terra Millennium...

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual NONCON/DUBCON, eventual forced marriage and pregnancy, violence, language, drinking, chubby!reader, dark!Paul Atreides, spoilers for Dune Part 2

Part I Part II Part III Part IV COMING SOON

A Jedi in Arrakis (Paul Atreides x Reader) 💋💔😊

Summary: While on the run from Empire troops, Jedi padawan Y/N comes to find out that hyper-driving in a compromised craft can have some major setbacks when she discovers not only is on a new planet but a whole new galaxy as well...

Warnings: jedi!reader, eventual 18+, NSFW, angst, fluff, eventual smut/pinv!sex, oral sex, talks of questioning the Force and teachings, spoilers for Dune Part I and II, eventual marriage

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V TBA

Solar Flare (Feyd-Rautha x Reader) 💋

Summary: Chosen as the bride of na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, Y/N finds herself at the hands of the sadistic na-Baron who seems keen on having his bride on their wedding night...

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, arranged marriage, DUBCON/ pinv sex, fingering, loss of virginity, brief knife kink, small breeding kink, crude language, forced arranged marriage

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & me

Banner by @vase-of-lilies

[baby-yongbok]

Yes, Mistress

Demon!Seo Changbin x Demon Lord!Afab!Reader

✮ Genre - Explicit (non-idol) - Sub!Changbin x Dom!Reader [MDNI] ✮ WC: 3k

✮ Summary: Needy and lovestruck Changbin will do anything to be the center of attention for his mistress. ✮ CW: This is a monster fucker fic [I know, I didn't see it coming either], Unprotected sex, Anal sex, creampie, light degradation, Changbin is big like really. (I think that's all)

✮ A/N: Okay, so, I tried to finish a different Changbin fic I had to end Binnie Birthday Week but it just wasn't doing it for me so I wrote this in 6 hours. Don't ask me how I came up with it or anything I don't know the answer to any of your questions 😭So here's my first monster fucker fic (Does this fall into that category? I think it does) Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✧ Masterlist ✧

“You’re staring.” You whisper to the entity beside you. He’s been eyeing you for at least an hour. You’ve gotten good at ignoring him but the persistent heat of his pitch black gaze can get a bit heavy. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your bright eyes catch his dark ones and he shrinks a bit. He knows better than to say something like that. He knows not to play around but Changbin can be a bit of a tease. You suppose it’s all in the fun of being a hell dweller, they’re entitled to some entertainment but not when it comes to you. Not when it comes to, Mistress.

“Why would you make me nervous?” You sit up straighter in your chair, pushing your hair to the side to give him a good look at the sigil etched dark into your skin. You’ve acquired ownership of Changbin and a few other demons through the lordship of your father. They fear him of course, but you? You’re different. They’ve learned that you’re more than a bright eyed princess, you’re ruthless, and that’s what excites them. “I make you nervous, never the other way around.”

“Yes, mistress.” Changbin mutters, eyeing you like a lovesick puppy. “I’m sorry for staring it’s just that I -”

“Want attention?” You stand from your seat abruptly and the fiend watches closely. There’s no hint of anxiety or fear from him but you can smell it. You’ve grown familiar with the scent, it keeps you up at night. It drives you insane and paints a smile on your face, something like the one you have now while Changbin digs his blackened claws into the dense wood of the table in front of him. 

“You want me to give you attention? You’re jealous that I’ve been calling on Minho more?” He nods, gulping heavily as his midnight pupils beg for you. “What can you give me? What are you offering me, hound?”

“Whatever you need, my mistress.” He stands before you and you glare, you can hear the remnant thumping of his damned heart as he realizes what he’s done. No one stands before you without a summons. “I’m sorry.”

He kneels promptly, Bowing his head towards your bare feet. You take this opportunity to look him over, his pitch black hair shines in the light of your common room and his ashened fingers are digging into the hardwood below him and great anticipation. 

There’s a reason that you’ve been overlooking Changbin’s willingness to serve, you like him too much. He’s an annoying love sick imp who you have an undeniable attraction to. He’s the only one of your legion that is casually allowed in your common room. He’s the only one that you allow to dine with you on nights like tonight and he’s the only one who can make you feel like you’re one of them. 

You want him, so much so that he pulls your demonic nature to the forefront and you can’t have that, though it is nice to indulge every now and then. 

“You’re so needy that you’ve forgotten your place, hm?” You step towards him and he keeps his gaze cast to your feet. “Need I remind you who’s in charge?”

You raise a foot to his chest, pushing him back forcefully. He extends his arms behind him to break the fall and you furrow your brows down at him. “Oh, you’ve truly forgotten.” You push him again and he falls backwards. 

“Mistress, I’m -” You shush him, watching as his dark pants grow an impressive tent. “You’re so in love with me, aren’t you?” 

He grunts, the tent stiffening at your inquiry. “You were told that I am to be obeyed. You were told to serve me at all costs no matter the consequence. My father told you that I am your owner and you’ve made the honor to serve me your reason to breathe, haven’t you?”

“Yes, mistress. I do love you.” The sound of fabric splitting at the seams echoes through the room, you watch as his thick cock fights to free itself of its confinement. “You’re everything.”

“I know I am.” You press the ball of your foot down between his pecs, the muscles bulge and strain under your touch. Changbin watches as you let your dusk colored toes run over his stomach. He’s soft and strong under your touch and it takes so much control for both of you to stay in line. “You want to serve me?

“Yes, please.” His dark eyes nearly glow in the dim light, his smoky claws have marked your floors with proof of his wavering restraint and his raven hair is nearly smoking with a revenant flame. 

Your foot stops at the hilt of his cock just as his useless pants give way to his arousal. He grunts at the bite of cool air that meets his throbbing length, his eyes snap shut in a desperate attempt at taming himself. “I’m sorry, Mistress.” He blinks up at you, sincerity glazing the pitch black.

“Don’t be sorry, my sweet.” You circle the hilt of his cock with your big toe, knocking the head of it as you make your rounds. The sounds that leak from him make you want to make some of your own. “How about you use this pretty dick to serve me, hm? How about we try a little something?”

You press your foot to his length, he moans at the contact. It’s high pitched and begging for more, begging for you. “Yes, whatever you’d like. Anything, mistress, I’m yours.”

He throbs under the slight pressure of your foot and your pussy drips at the feeling. You’ve been growing wet since he started staring so you’re certain that you’re a puddle by now. 

“I’m wet.” You state simply but it’s anything but simple to Changbin. “Let’s see if you can still eat pussy correctly, then we’ll try a little something, yeah?” He nods, mumbling confirmations that you don’t care to listen to as you rid yourself of your underwear. 

Strings of sticky arousal pull from your cunt to the soaked gusset of the fabric. The sight of it makes Changbin’s cock dribble with arousal. If he weren’t so thick you lick it up for him. You’d swallow his cock so perfectly that he just might get his soul back, but that’s a quest for another day.

“Eyes on me, fiend.” You position yourself over him, lifting your skirt so that you can watch his gaze flick between your pretty brown eyes and your sopping cunt. “Eat.” You lower yourself onto him and he’s tasting you before you can take a breath. 

His long tongue slips and glides through your folds with expert precision. He laps at every soaked corner and flicks your swollen clit just how you’ve taught him. Growls rip through the both of you followed by panting moans spilling over your parted lips. 

“Fuck, Changbin.” You lift your skirt higher to watch him. His nose rests on your public mound, tickling the hair that you’ve carefully shaped as he shakes his head back and forth with your clit snug between his blushed lips. You throw your head back, animalistic wails ripping from your chest as he sucks on the sensitive nub. This is why you can’t fuck Changbin, he ruins you. 

“‘M gonna fucking cum. Gonna cum gonna cum, swallow my fucking cum.” He hums against you, continuing his blissful attack on your cunt until you’re writhing on top of him. His nails dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, leaving marks for the others to see when you summon them for a night. He might not be the only one allowed to fuck you but he know’s that he’s the best. He wants to be the best.

“Release.” You order in a breathy moan and he licks up your cunt one more time before pulling 

back. You’re panting over him, eyes shut with the faintest hint of a grin. “Sit up.” He moves swiftly, grabbing you by your thighs and sitting straight up with you positioned in his lap. Your wet cunt is sitting right over his throbbing length and he has to hold his breath to control himself.

“I want you to fuck me.” You lace your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a heated kiss. It’s a clash of hungry tongues fighting for dominance and sharp teeth biting at the plump flesh of the others lips. It’s a battle that you’ll always win. “Fuck my ass.”

“Mistress.” Changbin groans against your lips but you silence him with another kiss. You suck his skilled tongue into your mouth. Twirling the muscle with your own before falling back into a makeout. “I’ll fuck your ass.” He mumbles as you break the kiss. 

“Do you think you’ll fit?” You rock yourself over him and he melts. His claws sink into you, and his frame swells under your magnetic touch. You take his hand and bring it back to grip your ass, he grabs at the flesh leaving a harsh spank on your cheek before he brings his finger between them to rim your tiny hole. 

“Fuck.” Changbin’s cock twitches against you as he presses into the tight ring of muscle. “It’ll be so tight, gonna stretch you out.” You sigh a moan and he follows. 

“Let’s see if you’re right.” You move, hovering over his daunting length. He runs the tip of his dick through your folds to collect your sweet slick before he positions his swollen tip. You lower yourself down onto him, hissing at the brutal stretch. “Ah- my god, Changbin.”

“‘S too fucking tight, not gon - Holy hell, you won’t. You can’t” Only the head of his throbbing length has breaches your hole. Your legs are shaky and unstable the more you try to take. He’s barely a quarter in and you swear that you can feel him in your stomach. “Come here.” 

Changbin’s hands find your waist and he lifts you up just enough for the very tip of him to stay in place. “I’ll fuck up into you, is that okay?” You agree, supporting your weight with steady hands on his shoulders. The gesture is useless since Changbin is strong enough to hold your weight times any given number but you keep your hands planted anyway.

You inhale deeply and he takes it as his cue to push up into you. You scream into the air on your exhale, It ends in a moan as more of him sinks into you. Your cunt clenches at the fullness and your sticky arousal trails back to give him just enough lubrication to aid him. 

“You’re so fucking big, Bin.” He groans, bucking his hips up slightly to feel more of you. “I wanna feel you in my fucking guts. You’re gonna fill me up, gonna fuck me better than anyone else aren’t you?” You struck a chord, it’s obvious with the way that he growls beneath you. 

“Fuck yes, I fuck you better than anyone.” He moves you down, controlling you by your waist as he bucks up into you. You feel the delicious burn of the stretch as more of his cock sinks in. “My mistress, I’m hers. I fuck her tight tiny hole like no one else.”

His head is thrown back, his dark eyes are shut and his mouth is parted in a silent moan. You’re almost an exact mirror of him except you’re anything but quiet. You’re moaning, panting, growling, screaming. Every sound known to man and beyond is vibrating through you at the delicious stretch of his cock. 

“Mine.” He mumbles, pushing into you further. He’s fucked out, soul snatched and hypnotized by the thought of you and all that you encompass. This is what you live for. This is what it feels like to have these pretty fiends wrapped around your finger. This is euphoria.

“Shit, Changbin. Changbin you’re fucking deep so fucking- holy fuck.” You’re damn near limp in his arms once he bottoms out. He holds you against his strong chest, his arms wrap around your middle and he bucks up into you little by little. 

You have no idea what spot he’s hitting. You have no idea how there could possibly be room for him this deep inside you. None of this makes sense but the pleasure coating your nerve endings doesn’t care for it to. “Fuck me, fuck me, now.”

He lifts you up on demand, helping you bounce on his cock at a pace that would be boring if you weren’t stretched to your limit. Tears stream down your pretty red cheeks, your tongue lulls out of your mouth as you pant cross eyed and fuck out in his arms. “So pretty.” He whispers, moving you on his cock like his favorite fuck toy. 

“My clit, please. Touch my pussy.” Changbin maneuvers himself, one arm wraps around you to keep you bouncing on his cock while his free hand rubs at your swollen bud. You cry out above him, tears streaming and screams echoing as he holds you still to fuck up into your pretty tight hole. 

Skilled fingers flick and circle your clit as you fall apart in tandem. You claw unique shapes and freeform sigils into his back as he summons the pleasure in your body to take over each and every burning inch of flesh he wishes desperately to devour.

“Cum, cum, cum.” You chant with sprinkles of his name here and there. He presses firmer circles into your clit at the warning. You look up at him with tear stained cheeks and blown pupils and he stares back at you with a shimmering darkness behind drooping lids. “Please let me make you cum, Mistress.”

He’s out of breath when he pleads to you and you’re barely breathing as still and cry out in his hold. He fucks into you slowly as you come undone. The hand that was once on your clit is carving lines into the hardwood as he tries to control his own orgasm. He helps you ride through yours, guiding you to grind on his cock until you’re finally breathing again. 

Your eyes flutter open to the most beautiful image of a fucked out hellwalker that you could imagine. He’s practically drooling as he watches you. His shirt is ripped from the swelling of his frame, his hair is a tousled mess from the mindless raking of your fingers and his kiss bitten lips are quietly whispering lost prayers for him to keep his composure. 

“You’re so good to me.” You run your hands through his hair and he sighs at the contact, blinking up at you. “I’ll reward you with my cunt, use me to cum.” His eyes get darker, if that's even possible, he sits up straighter against you and you moan at the way your holes clench. 

“Use me and fill me with your cum, I can take it, don’t worry.” You coo at him and he keens. His arms circle you again, squeezing you tight against him as he fucks into you slowly. 

“Thank you.” He whispers, fucking into you faster and faster by the second as he chants fucked out ‘thank yous’ into the air. “You’re so fucking tiny. So small in my arms I could fuck you for days, for years. Can I please? Can I please have my mistress forever? I’ve already given myself to you, I’m yours, all yours.”

He’s in his head, he’s so caught up in his mumbling that he barely processes your screaming. He’s too lost in his deep need for you to realize that he’s simply manhandling you in his hold. He’s moving you over him like a toy that he’s determined to break. “I’m yours all yours.”

A grunt that can only be recognized as inhuman erupts from him as he falls apart. Ropes of heavy, thick cum paint your walls and you find yourself coming undone again at the feeling of it. You moan into the air like a woman possessed as you squirt all over his stomach, your arousal pools and drips down with the cum that escapes your tiny hole where Changbin still has you plugged and full. 

You pant against each other, skin glistening with sweat as the air around you evaporates. He’s still holding you, nails digging into your sides and marking you yet again. His back is no better, there are traces of you on almost every inch of him and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You gather all of your strength to pull yourself away from Changbin. He helps you, guiding you up and off of his cock. You moan as you slowly start to feel empty with each inch of him that escapes. Once you’re free of his cock his cum spills from your gaping hole. He gawks at the sight, cock twitching at the way your hole clenches around nothing. 

You waver a bit as you try to stand but he keeps you steady, holding you by your hips as you stand over him. He blinks up at you, his hazy gaze meeting yours. “Did I serve you well, mistress?”

You offer him a lazy smile. “Hm, I think you could’ve done better.” He freezes, eyes growing wide and that delicious smell of anxiety is rolling off of him in an instant. 

“I’m sorry.” You pet his head, combing the messy hair with your fingers. “Don’t be sorry just make it up to me.” 

“Of course, anything.” You take an unstable step towards him, relying on his strength to keep you steady. “Clean me up.” 

His eyes flick down to your messy cunt, the mix of your and his arousal is slick against your skin and he holds back a moan at the sight. He knows that you’re fucking with him, you’re using him and it’s just what he wanted. This is the attention he was hoping for. 

“Yes, mistress.”

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[bigboywtheskullface]

Big Guy

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plussize!civilian!reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, non-serious injury, m!body image issues, and allusion to smut but none to be found here (yet). Angsty behind the veil of fluff.

Word Count: 1,772

Reading time: ≈ 6 mins.

A/N: Hi friends!! This is my first writing for Ghost and I’m so happy to be a part of the COD fandom. Looking at Simon Riley… love at first sight man. I’m a big girl who loves big boys. I will often be writing with a plus-sized reader in mind, but will make sure I always include that in the description OR warnings if body size is a large part of the narrative. 

Hope you all enjoy the read and feel free to send in requests <3 Always been one of my favorite parts of writing fics on Tumblr.org.

Anywho— happy reading!!!

Ghost liked being a big guy. After the awkward teen phase, after he’d truly grown into himself, he’d never had a single issue with how he was built. Thick, muscle and fat, broad frame, imposing figure. It served him well as a soldier. Out in the real world, things weren’t always sized to fit him, but on a military base, everything felt just right. Big friends, big clothes, big guns, big cars, big wars. He was a legend of sorts. It was hard not to love how enemies knew his name. Hard not to love how they feared the legend of the giant in all black, a mask obscuring his face. Ghost loved that. Ghost was more than happy to be a machine, a legend, an armored weapon that few had ever managed to crack the shell of.

But Simon… Simon was cursing himself right now. As tears welled up in your eyes you did your best to blink them back, attempting to keep a smile on your face for him, though anyone could see plain as day that it was more of a grimace.

You two had just been joking around. He’d been lying face down on the mattress, buried in the pillows, playfully dodging your kisses. You were lying on top of him, wandering hands looking for his only ticklish spot that you swore moved every day. It didn’t, you were just normally bad at finding it. But today, you’d managed to find it immediately. He’d jerked in surprise and you bucked on top of him, the back of his head met the front of your face. It had all happened so fast. He’d just reacted too quickly. He’d lost his cool.

“Shit, shit, shit…” He swore under his breath, his hand cupping the back of your neck as you held one hand over your nose, blood leaking through your fingers. “Fuck, Love, I’m so sorry—“ He jumped up, the bead creaking as it was released from his weight, causing you to bounce a bit, your hand bumping your nose not too gently due to the surprise movement causing you to let out a little whimper. “Fuck—“ He swears once more, “Sorry, I just…” He dashes to the bathroom, grabbing one of the white towels so you could easily bleach away the stains later.

As he came back into the bedroom you took in a deep breath and pleaded, “Si, relax. It’s just a nosebleed—“

“We don’t know that… I might’ve broken your nose.” He objects, walking over and demanding, “Move your hand n’ tilt your head up for a minute. Lemme’ see.”

Only after he’s positioned the towel beneath your nose do you move your hand away, holding it to your side, attempting to keep blood off the comforter. Simon grimaces and as gently as possible brings the rag to your face, “Not broken, just… just keep your head down like that for me. We’ll check again in a few minutes and go to the ER if it ain’t stopped.” He gives a frustrated sort of huff and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, watching a tear slide down your cheek. He wipes it away gently with his free hand as he lets loose another, “Fuck…”

Clumsy fuckin’ oaf he was. Too big for his own damn good… certainly too big for your own good. You’d only been together a little over six months now, but sometimes he wondered how you dealt with it. His looming presence in the smaller quarters of your apartment. In this place, he was damn near useless. Hell, he could hardly turn around in your little kitchenette. There have been many instances of spilled drinks and shattered dishes because of it. Forget any romantic evenings in the bathtub or shower that you so often tried to sway him into. Those facilities were barely big enough for him alone. He didn’t want to crush you or cause some stupid accident like this. Even watching a movie comfortably on the couch seemed to be a monumental task. It always took you ages to settle yourself around him comfortably. 

He winced at the thought. He wanted you to be comfortable around him.

You place your hand over his own and look up at him softly, and with a congested voice do your best to reassure him, “Simon, I am okay.”

“S’not okay.” He grumbles, anger laced into his words. While it’s a rough tone, you know it’s not directed at you. “Fuckin’ idiot. I wasn’t paying attention and you got hurt…” Worry washes over his face, replacing the anger once more as he wipes away another tear, “Shit, I’m so sorry, Lovie. Y’know I never wanna’ hurt ya’. I’d never do it on purpose.”

You nod and soothe, “I know, Simon. I know. It was just an accident, that’s all. It’s okay, I swear. I’m okay.”

“I-“ He looks around your small room, suddenly feeling like the walls are closing in. He drops his forehead to your knee and nods against it, closing his eyes and murmuring an, “Alrigh’.” 

He places a kiss against your knee and several on your thigh before resting his head against the plush skin. You look down at him and frown slightly. Poor baby looked like a dejected dog. The kind that bites its owner when startled and then immediately regrets it. You know he doesn’t believe you, doesn’t believe it’s okay. You know he feels awful about it. He shouldn’t, not at all. Like you said, it was an accident.

You add on, “It was my fault anyways, you know. You always warn me not to start with the tickling.” You give a pleased-sounding hum, “Found your spot pretty quick that time, kinda’ impressed with myself. Wonder what other fun spots I could find.” You try to flirt, though you doubt the attempt is successful given the stuffy voice, rag up your nose, and brooding boyfriend.

He gives something between and laugh and a scoff and glares up at you through deep brown eyes, “S’not funny.”

“I think it’s a little funny.” You shrug

“You’re the only one.”

You stick out your bottom lip in a pout, “C’mon, Simon. It’s really not bad. I can already feel it letting up.” 

To prove your point you withdraw the rag from your nose and fold it to get a clean part. The smallest bit of blood trickles out of your nose and you quickly wipe it away, holding the rag in place once more. He gives an unimpressed grunt, his hands moving up to rub the outside of your thighs, his form hunched over to make himself smaller in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” He says once more.

“Simon…” You sigh out exasperated.

“No, not just—“ He huffs, “Not just for the nosebleed. Just for bein’… bein’ so bloody brutish. M’too big for your space, Love, too big for your world. Feel like I come in here when I’ve got time off and muck everything up. Breakin’ shit and takin’ up too much space.” He glances up at you apologetically, “Now’m hurtin’ ya’ too? I don’t like it.” He shakes his head, “Sometimes… sometimes I think maybe you’d be better off with a normal man… for plenty of reasons, but this one too. Shouldn’t have some monster loomin’ over ya’ all the time. Want you to feel safe and comfortable in your own space.”

Your heart breaks a little as you listen to your boyfriend nervously ramble. His cheeks turn a faint shade of pink as he makes his little speech, stumbling over a few words. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“Have I made you feel like that, Si?” You ask, lowering the rag from your nose, “Have I said or done something to make you think that’s how I feel?”

“What? No. ‘Course not. Just somethin’ I think about every now and again s’all.” He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, his large arm bumping against your knee.

“Baby…” You whisper softly, reaching your clean hand out to take his face, tilting his head upward so his eyes are forced to meet yours. “I don’t feel that way at all. I— well, I love how big you are.” You run your thumbs over his cheeks gently and say, “I feel so safe with you, Simon. I’ve always been the biggest person in the room, always been the biggest person in the relationship. I’ve always felt like I have to protect everyone else.” You smile, “And I would protect you, if I had to, of course. The best I could. But I don’t feel like I have to. You do so well taking care of both of us. You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

“I do my best.” He mumbles

“And you do so well, Simon.” You reassure, “There is no one— and I mean no one— that I would rather have taking up space in my life.” He gives a faint smile and you give a little giggle, stuffing the corner of the rag up your nose as best you can before wiggling off the side of the bed and down into his lap. You throw your arms around his shoulders and he presses his forehead to your own. “Not to mention…” You murmur, shifting on his lap to get closer to his ear, “I love the way your body feels on mine.” You kiss below his ear and smile as a slight shiver racks his body, “Love feeling your weight on top of me… and beneath me. Behind me is pretty damn good too—“

“Alrigh’, alrigh’’…” He mumbles, his tone slightly amused, “Settle, Lovie.”

You giggle and nuzzle against his neck, “Mm… can’t help it, you got me thinkin’ now, Si.”

He gives a low hum in his throat and nudges your head away from his own carefully, “You’re in no condition for that mess right now.”

“I am too.” You pout

“No…” He chuckles, pointing to your nose, “You aren’t. Give it at least a few hours for me.”

“Scared of a little blood, soldier?” You tease, running your hands up and down his biceps.

“Y’know damn well m’not.” He huffs out, “Just want to give that pretty little head o’yours some rest. Make sure the bleedin’ doesn’t start again.”

“Mm… one hour?”

“Three.”

“Two.” You bargain back.

He rolls his eyes and gives the offer some consideration before agreeing, “Two. N’not a minute sooner. Understood?”

“Heard loud and clear, LT.” You agree, earning a sharp glare. You force down a giggle and remedy, “Understood, Si.”

“‘Atta girl.”

[sittingbesideyoulikeasilhouette]

Make Things Even

Pairings: Dean x plus size reader

Synopsis: you and Dean had a love hate relationship but what happens when you sneak lust into the equation? What happens when Dean accidentally walks in on you playing with yourself?

Author’s note: I wrote this in 3 hours on my phone instead of going to bed. This is my first SPN fic, please tell me what you think!!! P.S Sammy is the sweetest lil wingman in this lol

You slowly blinked your eyes open and turned to see 10:04 staring back at you on your alarm clock. You stretched out your limbs and your muscles ached in protest - clearing out that vamp nest with the boys a couple of days ago really pushed you to your limits so you all christened today “rest day.” The boys could tell how worn out you were and Sam had been talking non-stop about going to the movies so today you were all officially unplugged and forbidden from going on or looking for cases.

You got up, put on your slippers, and followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen.

“Morning princess,” Dean called out from his place at the table, setting his cup of coffee down and peering up at you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“If anything, I’m a goddess.” You made your way to Sam who was offering you a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

“Here you go, Goddess,” Sam jokingly said putting the plate in your hands. You smiled and Dean rolled his eyes before going back to eating his breakfast.

As you went to sit at the table, the spot opposite to Dean, you saw him sneak a peak at you. You were sporting some tight, short, velvety black shorts and a tank top and Dean made sure to stare a bit too long at both your ass and your tits before pretending he didn’t spare you a second glance. You knew Dean loved sex but you also knew he sought out sex with thin women and you.. well, you were not. You’d grown somewhat comfortable with your body over the years and you weren’t scared of wearing tight clothing anymore but you’d heard Dean say a few offhanded fat jokes so you knew the chance of you two ever having anything was null. And, you were okay with that, really, because even though Dean was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on you also realized you’d never be fully comfortable with him to have sex. So, you decided that not giving a shit about what you wore around the bunker was the way to go and even though sometimes he’d look at you like he wanted nothing more than to have his way with you, he’d always grab his keys, say goodbye with a “don’t wait up,” and come back with one or two small hickeys on his neck that no doubt a petit brunette gave him.

“Something caught your eye?” You asked Dean with a cheeky smile and he spared a second glance at your tits before looking back up at your face.

“Nope.”

“You sure?” You asked again, looking up at him from under your lashes and making sure your tits bounced a bit as you reached for the syrup. Again, he looked down at your tits but this time you swore there was a slight sparkle in his eye. You knew you’d never have sex with the man but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy torturing him a bit. When he looked back up at you he knew you’d caught him staring so he awkwardly coughed and grabbed his fork.

“Uh yeah, yes. Yes, I’m sure,” he put a piece of bacon into his mouth and you decided to give the guy a break.

“Thank you for breakfast Sam,” You called out to him as he made his way to sit next to Dean.

“No problem, I figured I’d be up before either of you anyway. You two are so similar honestly - you both love sleeping in and are cranky without breakfast. I can expect little scowls every morning before either of you are fed.”

“I don’t scowl,” You and Dean said in unison while scowling at Sam.

“Uh huh, like I said,” Sam laughed and started eating his breakfast. You looked at the boys eating and suddenly got a bit self conscious; they were both well over 6 feet tall and muscular meanwhile you were a chubby and soft 5’7 eating the same breakfast they both were. You knew Sam meant nothing by serving you all the same portions, in fact you loved that he never called any attention or made any distinctions based on your weight, but it didn’t stop your brain from overthinking.

“Everything okay? Are you not hungry?” Sam asked you with a concerned tone. You were about to answer when Dean responded instead.

“Of course she’s hungry.” He said it offhandedly while reading the paper, he probably didn’t even realize what he said or how it sounded but it sent your brain into overdrive and you wanted more than to not be there at all. Sam quickly looked over at Dean, knowing exactly what it sounded like, and you could tell he was about to tell him off but you cut in instead.

“I’m just tired, I think I’ll head back to my room to rest.” You pushed your plate forward. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Dean put the paper down and look up at you.

“But you just woke up?” Dean called out to your retreating form as you made your way across the kitchen. His voice sounded confused and also.. sad?

“I’m going to rest just after waking up kind of like how you keep drinking after downing 7 beers. Not everything makes sense, Dean, it just is,” you called back and you didn’t realize quite how harsh you sounded until you’d already made your way out of the kitchen. Whatever, Dean had thick skin and he’d get over it; you’d get over it too.

* * *

A couple hours later a small knock startled you out of the book you were reading.

“Come in,” You called from your comfortable spot in bed and you looked up to see light, sandy brown hair and a pair of beautiful green eyes peering at you from behind the door. Dean hesitated there before finally taking a couple steps inside your room.

“How’s your book?” Dean making small talk? Sam must have put the fear of God in him.

“You came in here to talk about my book?”

“No, I came here to apologize,” he said, looking at the floor with his hands in his pocket. He looked nervous and a little helpless.

“It’s fine Dean.”

“No it’s not,” he scratched the back of his neck and looked everywhere except at you, “I was a complete ass back there and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out I swear, it’s just Sam and I are always starving after a hard case and I know the vamps were rough so I just meant you were hungry because duh you took down like 6 vamps but then I realized that it sounded like I was talking about you and your body and I would never talk about you like that. Your body is fucking perfect and I opened my mouth and just made a fucking mess. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” Dean finished his apologetic rant but one thing kept ringing in your ears. Your body is fucking perfect.

“You can apologize but you don’t have to lie Dean.”

“I didn’t lie,” he said defensively and finally looked at you. You don’t know why but that just pissed you off even more.

“My body is fucking perfect? C’mon, seriously? it’s probably only just tolerable by your standards,” you shot back and saw his face etched into perfect confusion.

“What? What the fuck are you talking about? Tolerable? I know you caught me staring at you earlier, so you know that’s not true”

“Yes fine I have big tits and some ass but I’m still fat”

“Who gives a fuck?” He nearly shouted at you. This conversation was equally confusing and infuriating you. When the hell did Dean Winchester decide he was attracted to bigger women?

“I don’t but you do.” You held your ground.

“What are you talking about?” You could tell he was aggravated too.

“Dean, when is the last time you fucked someone who wasn’t a size zero?”

“I haven’t yet but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to” he responded without skipping a beat. You both stared at each other and you refused to be the first one to break eye contact. Dean gave you an easy out and dropped his gaze down to your body. God, you swear the room went up 20 degrees. Dean Winchester was lusting after you, a size 16? Absolutely not, it couldn’t be. Just as Dean made eye contact with you again Sam came excitedly barging in.

“Okay the movie starts at 4 and it’s 1:12 right now. The movie theater is like 30 minutes away but we should account for traffic and snack time so we should leave at 3, sounds good, right?” Sam looked at you and Dean with a smile on his face, completely oblivious to the situation he’d just diffused.

“Yes Sam, sounds good,” Dean answered in a clipped tone and pat his brother on the shoulder before turning around and walking out of your room. You saw Sam mutter a small ow and clutch his shoulder before he looked over at you.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come with us?”

“A French film? No thanks Sammy, I’d rather stay here and read a book or watch trashy American TV,” you giggled holding up your book.

“Okay okay, we’ll bring you back some popcorn, promise” he said turning around to leave.

“Hey, does Dean know it’s a French film?” You’re surprised Dean would ever agree to that.

“He better, I talked to him about it for like an hour,” Sam said as he shut your door. Now that you were alone you actually had time to think about everything that happened in the last 10 minutes. Dean was attracted to bigger women? Dean was attracted to you? You felt like your entire world had shifted and you had no idea which way was up. You didn’t know if this meant that you and Dean would ever become anything but now that you knew your feelings could be requited, there was at least a possibility and that intrigued you and terrified you all at once.

* * *

The beginning of the end came at 2:50.

“Hey I looked it up on the theater’s website and for sure there will be subtitles” Sam confirmed as he made sure he had his phone and wallet in his front right jacket pocket. Dean, who had been previously looking for his keys, immediately stopped and looked at his brother.

“Subtitles, Sam?”

“Yes Dean subtitles. I told you this was a French movie.”

“French? Like a French movie?” Dean asked with a hopeful smile.

“No Dean not a French movie, it’s just a French movie. C’mon dude I talked to you about it for like an hour.”

“Sammy I don’t feel good,” Dean said grabbing his stomach.

“No, you’re not flaking out on me right now. We’re leaving Dean.” Sam said sternly pointing to the door.

“C’mon man, I’m not sitting through a 2 hour French movie that doesn’t even have any porn.”

“You suck man, the worst,” Sam called out to his brother as he grabbed the keys and made his way to the garage.

“Leaving now, bye!” Sam called out after he’d made his way to the top of the stairs and heard your faint little bye in response. He couldn’t see Dean anymore and figured he’d gone to his room to listen to some music. He smiled knowing full well he’d actually told Dean they were going to watch an action movie and telling you they were watching a French film but deciding that what you two need was some quality time to resolve all the tension that had been building over the past few months.

Your little argument with Dean had put you in a mood but you were also .. turned on? You were, decidedly, very confused and your best option was going to take a cold shower. Yes, that’ll help you told yourself as you grabbed your towel and made your way to the bathroom.

While you were in the shower you couldn’t stop thinking about all the new possibilities. Was Dean going to openly check you out now or was he actually going to act on it? Did you even want him to? Oh, who were you kidding, you’d been fantasizing over that man’s fingers and cock being inside of you for months and now that there was a small chance, you felt your body come alive. This shower was supposed to help take your mind off Dean but you hadn’t had sex or touched yourself in months so you decided the best thing to actually clear your mind was making yourself cum. You had the bunker to yourself, right? You could make an hour of it and play with your candles and your vibrating dildo. You were always pretty loud but now there was no reason to be quiet so you made up your mind, shaved everything, and quickly finished showering.

Unbeknownst to you, Dean was 3 doors down to the left, in his room with his head phones on full blast, trying to take a nap. He thought about going back in your room to talk but decided against it. It seemed like you really thought he was turned off by your body and that rubbed him the wrong way. He was pissed off at himself for every making you feel that way and he knows he’s probably made some stupid offhanded comments about weight or size but he’d never ever talked about you. He realizes now the impact of his words on you would be the same regardless of who he was talking about and he truly wishes he could take it all back and start again but he couldn’t and now you were probably still in your room reading your little book and hating his guts.

You skipped over to your room, which was only one door and across the hall on the right, and were about to close the door decided against it. No one is here, why should I close the door?

You decided to let that play into your little voyeurism kink, even though there was no one here to see you, and walked over to your nightstand from which you pulled out a lighter, your dark purple candle, and your 5 inch flesh colored vibrating dildo. You turned it on briefly to make sure it was charged then you set everything on your nightstand and dropped your towel.

You considered turning on some porn on your laptop but decided against it. You were already turned on and fantasizing about Dean would be more than enough.

You laid on your back and the chill of the air came in contact with your warm skin causing you to shiver. You closed your eyes and put your right index and middle fingers in your mouth, you started slow but then you imagined it was Dean’s fingers instead and he wanted to see how well you’d be able to take him so you put your fingers deeper into your mouth and made sure to coat them in spit. You slowly made your way down your chest and then you took your right nipple between your slick fingers and began twisting it. You couldn’t help but moan out loud, imagining it was Dean’s fingers instead of yours. You had only just started playing with yourself but you were already so fucking wet, maybe a minute more and you’ll start dripping on your covers. Knowing how wet you were just imagining Dean made you let go of your right nipple to start playing with your left.

“Oh fuck yes” you moaned out loud and felt yourself dripping down your thighs. God you weren’t a fucking teenager anymore, you were 27 years old, but you knew you weren’t going to last very long. You let go of your nipple and turned over to grab your candle. It was dark purple with sparkles and you knew when the wax hardened, it would look like little galaxies were all over your body. You lit the candle and closed your eyes. You partially liked wax play because of the surprise of the hot wax splattering on your body so you imagined Dean was holding the candle over you saying if you wanted him to make you cum then you’d be a good girl for him while he painted your body. The first blob of wax hit your right upper rib age near your tit and it felt exhilarating. You let out a loud and languid moan as you felt the wax hit your skin then quickly harden you slowly moved the candle a bit more up and center until you felt the next bit of wax fall onto your sternum. “Fuck, yes. Oh fuck, thank you,” you moaned with your eyes closed and the Dean in your mind smirked and called you a good girl for thanking him. You kept moving the candle around your torso and your thighs with your eyes closed and moaning at all the utter ecstasy. You were soaked and teasing yourself, working yourself up until you couldn’t take it anymore; you weren’t going to stop until you felt like you had to stuff yourself with your dildo.

Meanwhile, Dean was still in his bedroom with no idea of what you were imagining him doing to you just a few doors down. He couldn’t fall asleep so just as he decided to change the CDs in his Walkman, he took his earphones off and faintly heard your voice. He looked at his closed door waiting to hear you again. Did you call out to him? Probably not, you were pissed and the undefeated champ of holding a grudge so he knew you wouldn’t be talking to him for a few days at lea—

“Oh fuck, oh fuck”

Okay that was definitely your voice, loud and clear. And it kind of sounded like you were in pain? He wasn’t sure but he wasn’t taking any chances. He jumped up from his bed, grabbed his handgun, and slowly and quietly opened his door. He started making his way down the hallway to your room. Your door was open so all he had to do was aim and then he’d be able to kill whatever was harming you. Dean briefly leaned by your door frame, gun raised and ready, then he turned to look in your room and —

“Oh yes, right there oh fuck” You moaned loudly. Your right index and middle fingers were fingering your pussy and your hand and covers looked soaked. The way you had both of your feet for purchase on the bed and your knees open and bent perfectly framed the scene as you quickly fucked yourself with your fingers. Dean dropped his arm, gun in hand, but he couldn’t look away. He knows he should leave and pretend he never saw this, but he was mesmerized. Your skin was painted purple and in that moment he swore that became his new favorite color. He could hear the wetness of your pussy clenching around your fingers and very quickly felt his jeans were too tight.

You blindly started searching for something on the bed and when Dean saw you grab a dildo that looked very similar to himself, albeit a couple of inches shorter, he couldn’t help but imagine he was about to fuck you and he nearly moaned.

“Oh fuck, I’m not going to last long” you moaned and the Dean in your mind only looked at you and smirked, telling you you’d take whatever he gave you while the actual Dean looked down and saw himself tenting in his jeans. He should leave, he thought, but when you lined up the dildo with your hole and practically shouted out how fucking good it felt to finally be filled as you stretched yourself out, he knew there was no earthly or godly force that could take him out of that room. The slick sounds of you fucking yourself hard and fast coupled with the loud and dirty moans falling from your lips were making Dean dizzy. He lightly palmed himself over his jeans for slight relief but then you turned on the vibration and the way your moans got higher and airier, he knew you’d be cumming soon and his cock only stiffened in his pants.

“I’m gonna cum, oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you called out and Dean swears his brain stopped functioning for a second. All he could see, hear, or think about was you. Your face slightly scrunched as you came and your moans were nothing short of pornographic. Porn was now ruined, Dean knew that you were the only thing that could ever satisfy his desires now. You slowly stopped fucking yourself with the dildo, turned off the vibrator, and threw it on your bed. You looked completely and utterly relaxed. Your breathing was quick, there was a slight sheen of sweat mingled with purple all over your body, and your chest was falling up and down up and down but you looked pretty? No that didn’t do the scene before him justice, you were “beautiful”

Your eyes sprung open the second you heard the word. You saw Dean standing there and you screamed while grabbing at anything and everything to cover yourself.

“No, no I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Dean yelled as he ran out of your room and into his. He quickly locked the door and ran to his bed while you ran up from your bed to lock your door. Your reprieve from all the madness was very short lived when you discovered you weren’t alone. You wanted to be mad that Dean was there and you almost allowed yourself to be self conscious about your body but you recall seeing the large tent in Dean’s pants and decided against it. Who knows how long he’d been watching you for, it doesn’t matter, because he was massively turned on regardless. You were filled with a confidence you’d never known before so you grabbed your black robe, tied it around your body, fully covering yourself and made your way to Dean’s room.

Your loud knock made Dean jump in his bed, he was trying to think how he was going to apologize himself out of this one but now you were at his door and you were probably going to kick his ass all while he still had a boner. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, I’m really really sorry” he yelled hoping that was enough to deter you for now but you kept incessantly knocking.

“Open the door Dean.”

“Can we please please talk later. Later, I promise” no woman had ever terrified or turned him on like you did. Here he was suffering the consequences of his actions while he was the most turned on he’s ever been in his life.

“Open the door, right now Dean Winchester.”

Dean was getting up to obey your order before he even realized what he was doing. He unlocked his door, ran back to his bed, and grabbed a pillow to cover his cock. You heard the click of the door unlocking and then a small shuffle. You opened the door and saw Dean sitting on his bed with a pillow covering his massive erection. When Dean saw you in that robe, imagining you were still naked underneath, he felt his cock throb and had to look away. You walked into the room like you owned it and closed the door. You walked over to Dean’s desk and sat at the comfy chair he had there.

“I’m so sorr—”

“Stop apologizing Dean. Get up,” You ordered and you saw Dean struggle with staying seated or obeying you.

“Why?” He questioned in a small voice. Here was a 6’3 hunter who was scared of nothing, looking terrified of you.

“Because we’re going to make things even”

“What do you mean? Uh I don’t think -” he began but you cut him off.

“I’m not telling you to think, I’m telling you to obey. Now get up.” You stared into his beautiful green eyes and he knew better than to test you.

“Now. As I said, we’re going to make things even. I’m going to walk you through getting undressed and then you’re going to touch yourself until you make a mess all over yourself. Got it?”

Dean immediately stood up straight and knew he would do everything and anything you asked of him.

“Yes ma’am”

“No that’s no way of addressing me. Do better.” You saw Dean’s eyes slightly glaze with what you could only describe as submission and desire.

“Yes Goddess.”

Who wants part 2?!?!?? Leave a comment if you do pleaseeeeeee <3

[megamindsecretlair]

Midnight Sin - Chapter 5

Chapter 4 Chapter 6

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

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Long exposition that has some smut in the middle. Fingering (fem receiving), cursing, use of N word, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Mentions of blood, overstimulation. The concept of "rolling" is brought up when Tyrone is able to hypnotize reader, but it is consensual. Exhibition kink if you squint. Non-inclusive language used.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. Tyrone invites you onto a mysterious date to introduce you more to his world.

Word Count: 4,742k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Well alright nah, I had to swerve on back to my first love. There's some more backstory thrown into this, I hope ya'll paying attention. How has this list gotten so long? I love ya'll. I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap

Tyrone was being mysterious as hell. He had told you to be free tonight and that he would pick you up a little after sunset. He refused to tell you where you were going or what you would be doing and you had no idea what to wear.

“Wear anything you’re comfortable in,” he had told you and nothing more. 

Now, you were in his car. He was dressed to the nines in a silky black suit, black shirt, skinny black tie and a red pocket square. You felt horribly underdressed in jeans and a long-sleeved white T-shirt.

He didn’t let you change. You were fighting yourself from asking a thousand questions. Why was he dressed so fancy and you weren’t allowed to? Was he just coming from somewhere?

You had to bite your cheek to keep from firing them off. Tyrone never gave you any reason to doubt him. He was a vampire, sure, but you’d yet to see that particular side to him. You weren’t sure how you would react. Horror? Attraction? Who knew?

He held your hand while he drove, asking about your day. His thumb stroked across yours and your belly flipped with every pass. You stumbled over your boring ass day, dealing with work. Bunch of lazy people coddled by management, what else was new? 

Tyrone pulled into a parking structure, but you weren’t sure what kind. When he parked and opened the door for you, he had a smirk on his face. He pulled on his sunglasses and headed inside the doors. 

It looked like…a boutique. An expensive ass boutique. The kind with perfume pumping out of the vents. Enough to be noticeable but subtle enough that it didn’t irritate your senses. The carpet was a soft cream color that felt like you were walking on clouds. There were a few racks back here, filled with long and flowing dresses. Fancy event dresses. 

The back section of the boutique had been closed off with a soft pale pink curtain. As soon as you got further inside, you noticed dressing rooms and a rack of matching shoes to the dresses.

“Tyrone?” You asked.

At the sound of your voice, some tall, thin, brunette stepped from the shadows holding a champagne flute. She handed it to you with a small smile. You took it but you were just out of your element here.

“I want to take you somewhere tonight. Be more involved in my world than just my parties,” he said. He nodded to the woman who left and returned, rolling a clothing rack your way.

“There’s no way my size is in here,” you said. 

You couldn’t help yourself from walking over to the rack, running your fingers through the fabric. Silk, satin, chiffon, lace. You ran over the many textures and colors already imagining trying to squeeze your ass in one of them. 

“This store caters exclusively to us and all sizes,” Tyrone said.

You laughed and turned to face him. “You just think of everything, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “Try to. I want to spoil somebody. I want to spoil you,” he said. 

You shook your head. “There’s no way I can afford this or accept it as a gift. This is…way too much. I’m not after your money,” you said.

You had taken care of yourself all your life, because who else was going to do it? You didn’t like handouts or charity. 

Tyrone looked towards the sales clerk. “We’d like some privacy please,” he said. The sales clerk nodded robotically and left through the pale curtains, out into the boutique proper. Tyrone walked over to you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest.

He took a deep breath and kissed your cheek. “I want you to spend my money. I want you to spend so much of it, the bank sends several ex-forces to shut us down. I already have more than I can spend in a thousand lifetimes,” he said. His deep, rumbling voice only sent shivers down your thighs.

“Tyrone…” you said. You were trying to think of a good argument for why you couldn’t let him pamper you. This just…wasn’t you. You liked him for him and that was all that mattered.

Tyrone’s hands slid across your hips until he was unbuttoning your jeans. Your soft, lacy panties were moved aside as Tyrone circled your clit. He hummed, finding you wet already. He dipped his hand lower to tease your entrance, gathering up more of your arousal to ease his fingers around your clit once more.

A soft moan escaped you. One hand moved over his but you made no indication for him to stop. Your other hand gripped his other forearm. This was so wrong and dirty, getting fingered in a boutique where the salespeople could hear you or walk in on you at any moment.

You never thought you had an exhibition kink, but here you were. Tossing your ass in the air for his vampire buddies to see and now for sales clerks. Tyrone licked your neck, right over your artery and you moaned a little louder.

You’d blame this on your morbid curiosity into the macabre. It turned you on a little too much that a creature capable of draining you dry was licking all over your neck like you were an ice cream cone. The push and pull between hunger, death, and sex intoxicated you. The way you were both a treat to eat and a treat to ravish. 

Wasn’t it the French that called orgasms, “la petite mort”? The little death? 

You felt a little like dying whenever you were with Tyrone. Maybe it was the nature of the vampire. Maybe it was because you were terrified of dying and here he offered a solution. If you asked, would he make you like him? Could you handle being a vampire? 

He moved his hand faster, flicking your clit. You bit your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, too harshly. He moved his left hand up to cover your mouth while he rubbed and flicked on your clit until you were putty in his hands.

Until you were drooping, knees buckling, unable to keep standing. Tyrone bent and rolled with you but held you up. Held you open. You were so fucking close. So fucking close to that sweet hit of ecstasy.

“Say you’ll take all my money. Every last cent. That you’ll let me spoil you. That I get to treat you like my little doll?” He asked.

His hand slowed. He moved his left hand away from your mouth. “Wait, wait,” you said. You moved and gyrated your hips, not wanting to give up how close you were to cumming.

“What do I wanna hear?” He asked.

“Please,” you said. You were desperate to cum. Your body was on fire.

“I need to hear it, little doll,” he said in your ear. He finished with a small lick to the shell of your ear.

“Okay, okay, okay, please,” you moaned. You were right on the edge. Right on the edge of that cliff staring down the abyss. You only needed a push.

Tyrone chuckled and returned to kissing your neck, rubbing his fangs across your artery. His hand moved faster, flicking your clit until you were moaning and riding your orgasm. His hand returned to your mouth to cover some of it, but between the smell of sex and your noises, it was obvious to anyone what you were doing back here.

You shivered and jerked as you came down, slumping against him. He held you while you recovered. “I can’t try on dresses now,” you said, pouting.

“There’s a bathroom right over there. Nice try,” he said. He replaced your panties and zipped you up, leaving your button undone. He tapped your ass to get you moving towards the bathroom so you could clean yourself up. Bastard. You heard him licking his fingers.

Afterwards, you were fresh and clean. Tyrone had found a plush chair to relax into. He was on his phone, scowling, but when you entered, he put his phone away.

“Which dresses do you like?” He asked.

You playfully scowled as you looked over the vibrant colors. There was black, green, purple, and red to match his pocket square. You chose the red one, flaring it out over yourself. It was a sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline. It had your name written all over it.

You picked out a few more, a blue one and a purple one. “Try them on, I wanna see you in ‘em,” he said.

He really wasn’t going to make this easy on you. Fuck it. If you were going to date a vampire, you might as well receive all the perks. You were dying for him to roll you again. Spending his money was just a part of that. You deserved it, didn’t you? There was no law that said you had to play the demure card.

If you were a gold digging heartless bitch, that was one thing. You weren’t. You were an asshole sure, a bitch most definitely, but heartless? No. You simply curated which fucks to give. 

You walked towards the dressing room, clutching the red dress when Tyrone stopped you. “Naw, out here,” he said. 

“Really?” You asked.

“I wanna see everything,” he said. 

You smiled. Maybe he was still rolling you because you felt sinful, naughty, as you pushed your jeans down your hips. You turned so that he could watch the material slide over your ass. Tyrone leaned on one elbow, fingers against his face, his pinky resting against his big, sexy lips. 

You couldn’t see his eyes, but you watched him in the mirror. His attention was definitely on you. 

You worked off your shirt and bra, tossing it at him. He caught it with his free hand and rested it against his knee. That sight alone made your knees weak. You loved that you were nearly naked and he was still dressed up. 

You shimmied into the red dress and moved closer to the mirror. It was a mirror that had soft lighting around it so you looked at all of your angles in the three way mirror. It wasn’t zipped yet but already felt amazing on your skin. You zipped it partially, just to see how it looked and you were amazed by how sexy you looked. Your necklace even sort of matched, the small, single pearl dangling against your neck.

You turned to Tyrone who grinned, flashing his fangs. “Irresistible,” he said.

Your cheeks warmed from his praise and you turned your head this way and that. “I like it, but I want to see the others,” you said.

Tyrone glanced at his watch. “We have time,” he said.

You tried on the other two dresses which were just as gorgeous. Different styles and fabrics and you nearly moaned when you wore the purple one. However, you felt like the red dress matched you better and it matched his suit without looking too much like you were on a prom date.

The sales clerk reentered as you were slipping on the red one once more. “We’ll take all three,” Tyrone said.

You squealed and clapped your hands together. Then, you went over to the rack. Your shoe size. How he knew such things was beyond you. Maybe his vision allowed him to see your shoe size one day. Maybe after so many years of being alive, he just knew by sight alone.

“Tell me about your family,” Tyrone said as you perused the offerings. Some were a little too high for you. You wanted to be sexy, not fall flat on your ass.

“What do you wanna know?” You asked.

“I wanna know everything,” he said.

You giggled. “Not much to tell. There’s not much of us left. I come from a small family of a small family. I didn’t grow up with a lot of cousins or siblings. I have an annoying ass little brother and a mom. My dad died when I was younger, back in high school. In fact, we joke that there’s a family curse,” you said.

You selected a pair of heels, putting them on to get the full effect. It added to your height, but not so much that you felt unsteady. 

“What do you mean by family curse?” Tyrone asked.

“The women in my family tend to die young in freak accidents. My grandma was one of the oldest in the family for the longest,” you said. It still hurt you terribly thinking of your grandmother. No one knew her secret and she didn’t write it down anywhere. 

Your mother was just as afraid of dying as you were. There was no way to prove a curse, but as far back as anyone could tell, your matrilineal line dwindled each generation. Fewer daughters were getting born. Your grandma was an only girl, your mother an only girl, and now you.

“Why do you ask?” You asked. You went back to the shoe rack picking out two more pairs of shoes to match your dresses. Your friends were going to scream in jealousy when they saw these. Especially London’s bitch ass. You couldn’t tell them you were dating a vampire, but you could tell them you were dating a rich club owner.

You smiled evilly in the mirror as you imagined what London would say. How she would try her best to act like she wasn’t hating. She could be happy if she left Carlos’ ass alone. 

“I’m trynna see if you have witches in your family,” Tyrone said. 

You giggled. “Ah, no. I think we’re the total opposite of witches,” you said. Witches would know how to fight off a death curse. 

Your thoughts turned towards being a vampire. You could do it. You could spare a future child from living without her mother. There was no rhyme or reason to how the women in your family died. Some were burned alive, drowned, at a young age, or at an old age. That was the scariest part.

You and your mother fought like hell not to be paranoid. To live your lives to the fullest. If you became a vampire, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. You weren’t sure how you would explain it to your mom, but she’d have to be happy in the long run right? 

“You sure there’s no magic in your blood at all?” He asked.

You walked away from the mirror, moving to sit in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

“I just want to learn more about you, promise,” he said. He smiled. “Ready?” 

You nodded. Luckily, your hair was already up and didn’t look half bad. You were glad you opted to put some care into it. You’d have been mortified to walk into that event looking crazy. Like lipstick on a pig. Wearing nice clothes but everything else to the wayside.

After getting the bags in the car, Tyrone took you to a makeup store. You told him it was backwards, that you do hair and makeup first and then put on the dress. He smiled. “You just focus on staying sexy and I’ll worry about everything else,” he said.

You shrugged. You weren’t going to argue. After, you were finally on your way to whatever event it was that Tyrone was attending.

He pulled into a fancy hotel in Downtown LA, the sprawling entrance trying its hardest to compete with a nicer city. Still, it was gorgeous with a fountain out front. Tyrone stepped out and opened the door for you.

You really did feel like a doll. He helped you out and you promptly took his arm. Heads turned in your direction as Tyrone handed off his keys to the valet. Yeah, you knew you looked damn good. Like celebrities walking the red carpet. 

Tyrone led you towards a banquet hall. Inside, there were hundreds of people dressed up and rubbing elbows. It was like a sea of beautiful Black people. There was a spattering of white people, but the room screamed Black excellence. Was everyone here a vampire? Couldn’t be if you were here. You doubted they’d want a human knowing their inner workings.

You looked towards a banner for answers and found that it was some type of medical charity. You looked closer and noticed that it was for a children’s charity. Aww. You looked at Tyrone with a knowing smile.

“Like I said, I have enough money to buy the world ten times over. Good to do something meaningful with it. Not to mention, it keeps the hospitals on our side. The ones we don’t own won’t look too hard at us,” he said.

You shook your head, laughter spilling from your lips. “Why is that not surprising?” 

You needed to ask if there was some type of donor class you could take. An introduction to vampirism and how there was one on every corner. Your neighbor could be one. Your night time nurse could be one. They weren’t always the bloodthirsty demons the media made them out to be.

You were sure there was probably thousands of acres of land out there covering up vampire kills. You were sure that with one look, they could rip your head off and suck your innards. But no one came after you just because they thought your blood smelled that good. No one was rolling your mind on the regular to lure you into a trap.

There were rules and you wanted to know those rules. You wanted to know everything. If you were going to do what your mind was thinking, you wanted to be well-informed. 

“This is a vampire event. Not only are we discussing roll out donations to hospitals, we’re also keeping up with the lastest noise from law enforcement, witches, and vampire hunters. The modern age has made it easier than ever to hide but also to expose us. Vampires are cool now, you’ve learned to stop being afraid of us,” he said. He grinned at your expression, no doubt smelling the spike of fear that went through you.

You wondered if he could also smell that hit of attraction. Did he know that the thought of being at his mercy was a turn on? 

He removed his glasses since he was among friends. The door you had entered through was covered up by thick curtains. No one would know that there was a vampire party in this room.

“Since it’s sort of informal, donors are allowed to come,” he said. He led you around the room, pointing out auction items. No one really loses their interest in stuff. Vampires gained and lost areas of study over the years. The pyramids, Ancient Greece, mythology, etc. Sometimes one was willing to part with their items.

“What’s your interest?” You asked.

“Legacy,” he said. He grinned at you. “I collect historical items that represent great acts of service or immortality. Like the Holy Grail, the arrow that went through Achilles, a mirror from Helen of Troy, a cane from King Ghezo of Dahomey,” he said. 

His voice went up a little as he spoke about his items. They must really mean that much to him. “There’s so much I need to know,” you said and giggled.

You stopped by a standing table, the surface of the glass just high enough above your waist for comfort. A waiter walked by with champagne flutes. Others walked with wine. Hm, maybe not wine. You squinted but wasn't entirely sure.

Tyrone grabbed two flutes, holding onto the darker liquid one and handing you the champagne. Blood then. 

“That’s actually my fault. I kind of skipped a few steps inviting you into this life,” he said.

“What kind of steps?” 

“Usually we select our donors more carefully. Choose those already drawn to the supernatural, even for silly reasons. If they are capable of acknowledging that supernatural creatures can exist. We talk, answer questions, slowly get used to knowing that we are real. Donors are expected to offer up potential for blackmail should they want to out us,” he said. “Sex is the strongest motivator.”

And if a room full of people could claim they saw you busting it down, or that there was a video of you sucking Tyrone’s dick, you damn sure weren’t going to say anything. Should it freak you out that you were on a flash drive somewhere? In a file marked for blackmail?

Not really. Wasn’t anything crazier than the sex tape you made with an ex. You watched as he deleted everything after you broke up. All but the copy you had. If he had a secret one, he never posted it to any porn site you’d been to.

“Definitely has my seal of loyalty,” you said. You smiled. “I get it. You have to protect this,” you said.

“Well, this is cute,” Tyrone’s eyes narrowed. You turned your head to who had spoken.

A Black man stood before you with a long but sweet face, big like a football player, and wearing a nice dark suit. On his arm, there was a leggy Black woman with a small, rounded face like an actual doll. She was so gorgeous with midnight skin glistening in the fluorescent lighting.

She winked at you and flashed a hit of fang. Fuck, there were so damn cute together, it was killing you. 

Tyrone stepped closer behind you, placing a hand on your hip. “Isaac,” Tyrone said.

“There’s been some talk about you getting a new donor. How you doin’ sweetheart?” Isaac asked.

You lifted an eyebrow at his date. She was just going to let that slide? She winked again and looked you up and down. Maybe you misinterpreted that earlier wink. 

“She’s with me,” Tyrone said. 

You wanted to look at him to confirm. That he really was just publicly claiming you like that. But you were picking up hella tension. Your intuition was usually spot on so you stayed a silent and united front with Tyrone.

“Ah, I see, I see. Too bad. She likes to play with her donors,” Isaac said.

You looked at his date and she smiled. If you weren’t head over heels for Tyrone, you would definitely try to see what that was like. 

“I also heard that you had switched up your look. Walkin’ around with grills. Got me to thinkin’ that Fo-”

“Do you mind giving us a moment? There’s a lot of donors here,” he said.

You weren’t sure what this Isaac person was on about but you wanted to know more. Your nosy nature landed you in trouble all the time. But you just liked to think you were curious. You nodded and moved away, shoulders slumping that you couldn’t listen to more.

You walked over to the bar and got some water, feeling a little woozy from lack of food. Tyrone promised that you weren’t staying too long and that he would most certainly feed you. You were pretty sure he was talkin’ nasty. Everything he said sounded nasty when it dripped from those sexy lips.

“Are you a donor too?” You turned to see some of the few non-Black people here. Even in supernatural-land you couldn’t escape Black men chasing after them. 

You nodded. “Oh my god! It’s so hard to tell sometimes,” she said.

You told them your name and they told you theirs. “Which one are you?” The ringleader, Summer, asked you. 

She was a peaked, skinny girl with stringy blonde hair and one too many freckles. Out of the mountains that God sculpted Black women out of, these niggas still went for flat plains.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you the second donor or…?” 

“Does it matter?” You asked. Nothing about this girl seemed genuine. You didn’t like how she asked all of these questions or that her friends stayed silent as if you were in a teenage movie. 

“You the third one?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. One of the girls behind her smirked and you looked back at Summer.

“How long have you been a donor? I know how easy it is to get mixed up, since they rotate so often,” she said. She smiled like she was your friend. You hated nice-nasty bitches like this. What was with the hostility? 

Why couldn’t they have a nice conversation and bond over being blood bags for vampires? It was straight to competition mode and you were sick of it. As if the bitch could compete with someone as gorgeous as you?

If nothing else, it was the audacity. You were minding your Black ass business and the snow patrol had to come in and break it up.

“Maybe you just can’t satisfy your vampire. Not if it takes more than one of you at a time,” you said. 

Summer’s face dropped down in surprise. “I have class so I won’t give you any details, however, just know that my vampire is well taken care of. Evening ladies,” you said. You turned and headed far, far away from them.

“God, I’ve been waiting for someone to shut that ho up.” You passed by a tall Black woman with sun in her veins. Her deep brown skin was beautiful, exposed by her dark green dress. She was small up top, but more than made up for it in the ass and hips department.

And why was everyone so fucking pretty? It wasn’t fair.

You stopped walking. “I’m Nikki,” she said. You introduced yourself.

“The bitch of the ball?” You asked, nodding your head in Summer’s direction.

“She gets off on making donors cry because her poor mean Daddy won’t pay attention to her,” Nikki mocked, mimicking a baby voice.

“Fuck, that’s annoying,” you said.

“Right! She’s also probably mad because she’s been throwing herself at Tyrone for years. He won’t even acknowledge she exists,” Nikki said.

“I figured there was some jealousy in there,” you said.

“Isn’t it always though?” She asked.

For the next twenty minutes or so, you bonded with Nikki instantly. You were so in sync, it was maddening. You were into the same kind of things, loving movies and lounge dates, not one for a big overcrowded clubs. You were exchanging numbers with her when Tyrone finally found you.

“Good?” He asked.

You introduced him to Nikki who told you that she was here for another vampire. Tyrone knew that one and said she had a good one. She excused herself, with a promise to text you.

“Everything good with you?” You asked.

“Fine. Isaac is a business rival. He likes to get under my skin so I can brag about my next move,” he said.

“Does he think you’re that stupid?” You asked.

“Apparently. The mu’fucka keep tryin’ it,” he said. You giggled. Your stomach also rumbled.

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. “Forgive me, let’s get you some food. Anything you want,” he said. 

“Anything?” You asked.

“Anything,” he said and smiled. He pecked your lips, hummed a little, and brought his lips back to yours. “That’s what I’ve been missing all night. Some lovin’.”

You told him that you wanted to go to a restaurant on the PCH. Gladstone’s was a celebration destination, right off the coast of the beach. It overlooked the ocean and there were barrels of peanuts you could snack on and throw the shells underfoot. It would absolutely ruin your shoes, but you’d just make Tyrone buy you some more.

Hell, maybe a whole fleet of the same shoes. So you could mess them up every night wearing them to bed with him.

“After dinner, you can get all the lovin’ you want,” you said. 

His eyes turned a shade darker, the red still a shock to you. He pulled you closer to him. “Don’t tease me, little doll,” he said.

You grinned. “The usual? Food and fuck?” You said. You slid your hands into his. He laughed, that wide smile tearing you up inside. You wanted to see that smile on his face all the time. 

“In that order,” he said. He led you outside to his car and soon you were flying down the street, wind whipping through the open windows for a night of great food, sights, and Tyrone’s body covering yours.

Masterlist | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6