#thank you for this it was so hard but fun
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Erin the comparison of JL vs the Avengers to Camp Jupiter vs Camp Half blood is toooo accurate đ
JL: Thereâs an established system in place and contingencies for every foreseeable scenario
Avengers: fuck it we ball
peter thinks that the Avengers have it all together because they're his teachers and they're constantly telling him to use his brain but it's really because they, for the first time, saw their own "fuck it we ball" mentality in a teenager, and thought "oh my god maybe that is like... super dangerous." like when a parent was younger and they partied a lot and sometimes got into dangerous situations and thought "this is normal" until they had a kid and they quickly realized "oh that's why my mom was insane."
that didn't make them any better, it just made them hypocrites. peter just doesn't know that because they act super responsible when he's around
#it takes a village#and in this case the village are a bunch of idiots that have no idea how to raise a teenager like peter#their perspective is so funny#peter is a superpowered genius that was one bad day from snapping and they saw that and went âoh fuck that's our job now isn't itâ#peter CAN be hard to handle#but like in a loving way#if ben and may were alive i do believe i'd have written them to know about peter's powers#and i think at least one fic where May realizes she can't keep up with peter and he needs mentors would be very fun to write#what was i talking about#oh yeah#the way peter talks about the avengers makes them sound so put together and like technically yes they are#but after first impressions are done the JL soon see the Avengers are WILD#they all fight like siblings rather than teammates#which is so funny#peter has no idea he embodies that avengers mentality#i love him for it#ao3 fanfic#leap of faith ao3#peter parker#thank you for the ask!#leap of faith catch me if you can#peter parker in gotham
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read 'Silver Bells' by @heavilycaffeinatedsblog if you haven't yet. this took me way longer than it really needed to. there are references all over the place (as well as shoutouts to some of my favorite fanfics (hard to find because tumblr) and a skyrim easter egg ((i don't know why i did that last one, brain rot i guess)))
this is from chapter eighteen and maybe not super accurate to certain descriptions but was the most fun I've had drawing in a while. so thanks for that caf and keep up the good work.
#voltron#vld#keith#lance#klance#fanfic#my art#silver bells fanfic#i stand with keith#i hate christmas#but this was the first december in many years that i haven't felt constant depression#and i own that up to this fanfic and epic the musical#so gg december of 2024#i'll maybe post closeups of the references if you want them
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Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa.Â
WC: 1.8k
Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while Iâm on break tho. Hereâs something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)
Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present.Â
This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelopeâs mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer.Â
What you didnât expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your âslightâ feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasnât true.Â
You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present.Â
You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas.Â
While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencerâs attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game.Â
âWorking hard or hardly working?â you joked.Â
He popped out of his focus from your presence. âI finished my files a little early,â he responded bashfully.Â
âAre you at least winning?âÂ
He smirked, âIâve won four times. But thatâs not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.âÂ
Thatâs when it hit you. An idea for Spencerâs gift.Â
Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work.Â
Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossiâs. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree youâd ever seen. Everyoneâs gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts.Â
âI want to go first!â Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ.Â
JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief.Â
âOh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,â she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her.Â
JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition.Â
He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. âMy turn.â He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you.Â
âFor you, my dear,â he handed you the box.Â
Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencerâs secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was ⌠unlikely.Â
You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldnât wait to try out.Â
âRossi, this is so sweet. I love it,â You thanked with a bright smile.Â
Now it was your turn. Everyoneâs eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didnât like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?
You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.
âMerry Christmas Spence,â you said softly.
When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face.Â
Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold.Â
âWow look at that,â Emily admired.
Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots.Â
âDid you paint this?â He asked.
You nodded your head and answered , âYeah I did.âÂ
A faint âaweâ could be heard across the room from Garcia.Â
âY/N,â Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. âThis is ⌠beautiful.âÂ
The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless.Â
âReally?â you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face.Â
âYes! Itâs Perfect,â his eyes sparkled at you. âI love it. Nobodyâs ever given me something like this.â He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick.Â
The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan.Â
The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you.Â
You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved.Â
Not that he had to know you loved him.Â
He didnât know that. Right?Â
As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin.Â
You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky.Â
âWait!â Someone yelled from behind.Â
You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.
âI wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,â he explained.Â
âYouâre welcome,â you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. âIâm glad you like it. I was worried youâd find it cheesy.âÂ
He looked confused. âWhy would I find it cheesy?âÂ
You shrugged, âbecause I hand painted it.â
âBut thatâs what makes it perfect,â he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. âItâs personal and shows you care.â
His eyes widened. âOh um-âÂ
He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.
âI know I technically wasnât your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.â
You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. âSpence-â
âThis isnât because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,â he reassured.Â
âI- Thank you,â you started unwrapping the gift.Â
âItâs not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.â
âIt doesnât have to be homemade for me to-â the wind was stolen out of your lungs. Â
The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.
âIs this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?âÂ
While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles.Â
âIt is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.â
âBut, that was three months ago.â
He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. âYeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.â
Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. âI can't believe you went back and bought this for me,â you muttered in disbelief.Â
âOf course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.âÂ
You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. âThank you so much. I love it.âÂ
His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.
He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. âI also wanted to ask if maybe youâd want to go see The Nutcracker with me.âÂ
Your heart damn near stopped.Â
âItâs playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we donât get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,â he rambled in nervousness.Â
âIâd love to,â you beamed.Â
His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. âBut not as friends. As a date?âÂ
You chuckled, âYes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.â
âGreat,â he said with relief. âAnd maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.âÂ
God he was cute.Â
âThat sounds great.â
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic
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hi again, teehee. my request is just reader and scara who are enemies that got forced on a road trip by their mutual friends. the two are sitting at the back of the van, but reader has to sit on his lap cause theres not enough people!! that leads to reader cockwarming scara pretty dejectedly, cause she wanted a peaceful car ride; which ended up with her squirming in discomfort on his cock!! but of course, no one can see them cause they still have their clothes on!! byebyee đŤś
- đ§
scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. cockwarming. some humor. enemies to lovers. a bit of degrading sexting.
this request was a fun challenge for me to write since the situation doesn't offer room for dialogueđ
scaramouche hates you for a number of reasons. he hates that you smell good all the time. hates how your hair always looks so pullable. hates how soft your skin looks. hates how hard he can feel himself getting when argue back with him, and call him out on being on an asshole when he is in fact being an asshole.
and you hate scaramouche for plenty of very valid reasons. he is selfish, arrogant, and incredibly egotistical. rude and a bit self absorbed. you swore he purposely picked fights with people because he thought it was fun. he legit stuck his tongue out at like child, with this stupid fucking smirk that just wanted to kiss right off his face.
normally, you like being a passenger on road trips at night. there was just something so peaceful about just sitting and looking out the window and listening to music.
unfortunately for you, you got to enjoy none of those things.
sometimes, with road trips more people ended up coming along than there was even room for. which in turn left you sitting in scaramouche's lap. you are sore, there are so many so many ways you could sit in someone's lap. all you wanted to do was get to the hotel, check into your room and fall asleep cuddling your jeff the shark plush.
and to top it all off, scaramouche would not stop texting you. he was impossible to ignore, especially when he could clearly see you were trying to ignore him.
'you know, you can turn the other way if you want. i can brace my arm behind your back or you could rest it on my shoulder. or i could brace my arm behind your back,' you grit your teeth reading scaramouche's text message.
thing is he wasn't being nice. doing any of that would require you straddling him. this wasn't the first text you'd gotten from him like this. he much preferred this position. he could feel the heat between your legs right on his cock. the bumps in the road were easily felt sitting in the back of the van, shifting you in his lap and causing you inadvertently rub on his cock.
'are you cold?'
you sighed and texted back 'i am good sitting the way i am, thanks. and no, i am not cold.'
'okay, well i am so grab the blanket for me.'
you reached over and yanked the blanket back to you over the seat, and threw it at him. "the hell you are cold," you said your first words in hours outloud. you swore you heard him laughing even though you had ear buds in.
scaramouche maneuvered the blanket around the both of you. he wasn't an idiot, in fact he was very sure of a lot of things. you were undoubtedly sore, especially in your neck and back. and you are most definitely cold. you would have to change positions sooner or later.
you felt your phone vibrate in your hand again. 'look i am not exactly comfortable either.'
'didn't say you were.' you texted back, squirming a little in his lap. your body had been crying for awhile for you to change positions. you sighed heavily and moved so that you are straddling him. for the third time that night.
scaramouche sincerely thanked whatever stars aligned in his favor for the fact that you'd chose to wear a skirt that day, which was no doubt hiked up more than little hidden underneath the blanket. he was positive he could feel your panties up against his jeans, especially when the van went over a bump. especially.
'exactly, what with you grinding on my lap,' came another text.
you rolled your eyes, your hand tightening on your phone. 'oh like i plan every bump in the road,' you were more than aware of him between your legs, and feeling he was hard at times was unavoidable. and top it all off your phone battery was half way drained, being sucked up by scaramouche's texts.
you heard him sigh as a bump shifted you in his lap. 'you sure sound comfortable.' you texted.
'awfully concentrated on me, aren't we? you like this, don't you? or maybe you have thought about this?' you knew his text was a taunt. he knew he was close to stamping on your very last nerve.
'get over yourself.' he could feel how scathing your text was. and it was such a turn on for him.
'you really haven't thought about fucking me? not even once? be honest.' you grit your teeth, and looked up at him to see him raising at you with a smirk on his face. god he is so smug.
'no,' your response was quick and simple. but truth is, you had. you hated how smug he looked just knowing he was right. you had spent some long night thinking about him. shamelessly.
'i don't mind being in this position,' you admitted in a text back, feeling a little bad about how snappy you'd sounded. you thought he felt pretty good between your legs, becoming more than a little away of thick he really is. 'yes, i have thought about it,' your heart pounded realizing you had pressed send.
scaramouche looked up, surprised at your text. you hadn't given him a inch this entire time. you look so fucking adorable looking away from your phone screen shyly, an embarrassed flush on your cheeks.
slowly you looked down at your phone when scaramouche texted you again. 'you wanna cock warm me for awhile? it would be more comfortable for both of us.' it was ideal that a blanket was around the both of you.
'..are you serious?' you texted back, hardly believing how this had happened. your pussy has clenched just reading the text, as infuriating as his text was. scaramouche was making you realize how touch starved you were.
' ...yes.' you texted back. he made you realize just how badly you wanted his cock inside of you. you squirmed knowing it was probably going to be uncomfortable after a few hours, but the thought was making you wet.
scaramouche knew in a few hours you wouldn't care how uncomfortable it felt. you wouldn't feel any discomfort. you would be wet and squirming, soaking on his cock because the van going over bumps would nudge his cock head into your sweet spot at random consistency. he couldn't fucking wait.
no one noticed you shifting into a position to peel your panties aside, the blanket concealing your movement. to everyone else it would look like you were trying to alleviate stiffness in your muscles from sitting in one position to long.
scaramouche freed his now straining cock from his jeans, silently swallowing a groan as he maneuvered his cock inside of you. you lowered yourself back down into his lap. it helped he saw the struggle to not make noise in your eyes as his stretched you apart.
'remember to keep quiet, slut. or everyone will hear how good you feel to finally have my cock inside you,' your pussy clenched reading his degrading text. texts he kept on sending you. the van went over a well placed bump, nudging his cock right into your sweet spot.
your toes curled as you squirmed a little. scaramouche on the other hand was in heaven. his cock was finally inside the girl of his dreams in a very erotic way. he could sit back and enjoy your tight warmth squeezing around his cock, your pussy oozing juices feeling it throb.
he couldn't resist idly playing with your clit underneath the blanket while he scrolled through his phone. you had to thankful to be turned away from everyone. the throbbing in your swollen clit was almost unbearable, making his cock feel twice as good inside of you.
'go ahead, kitten. roll your hips a little, no one will notice. it will make you feel better.' he pinched your clit, wagging his finger on the sensitive nub while he texted you with one hand.
the shock of pleasure made your thighs quake under the blanket. you moaned loud in your head as your hips twitched to roll down onto his cock.
'you slut. fuck that felt good. do that too much and i am gonna cum inside you.' scaramouche texted back.
your breath hitched in your throat reading his text. more wet pooled onto your pussy reading his text. your hand shook as you texted back 'promise?' you could barely even think with his cock buried that deep inside you. you want to rub and grind against him, nuzzling his neck and licking at his mouth submissively while you told him how good his cock felt.
his response was quick. 'when we checked in at the hotel, you are coming to my room and i am fucking you raw.'
'yes, please.' you texted back. he knew you couldn't wait judging from how tight your pussy felt on his cock.
scaramouche gave you break after awhile. he would have to have his cock back in his pants well before arriving at the hotel. he kept you straddling his lap though.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#modern au#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you
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OMG THANK YOU FOR THE TAG !!! THIS IS SO FUN !!!
⢠Do you play an instrument ?
- not really ?? I use to own a keyboard, and I knew a few songs but nothing crazy. Havenât played in years
⢠Favorite Book Characters ?
- this is so hard âŚ. But for sure Dorian Haillivard and Aelin Galathynius. But also Auren from plated prisoner, and I absolutely love Kingsley from The Assistant to the Villian
⢠Whatâs your star sign ?
- Capricorn !!
⢠Favorite Color Scheme ?
- Pale Yellow and Pale Green are my favorites
⢠Naps or long sleep ?
- long sleep for sure. I always wake up feeling sick and confused from naps
⢠What languages do you speak ?
- English, but I do know a bit of Spanish and American Sign Language
⢠Dreams / aspirations ?
- Iâve always wanted to own my own beauty salon. I love doing hair and makeup. Iâve also always wanted a VMW Hippe Bus, and I would live in it and travel everywhere
⢠Long hair or short hair ?
- this is difficultâŚ. I have long hair, probably the longest hair Iâve had in a LONGGGGGG time. Iâve always cut my hair short, and I usually prefer it that way
⢠Tea or Coffee ?
- COFFEE FOR SURE !!! I literally have coffee every morning, at my favorite little shop. I love it so much
⢠Bring a book character to life or go into a fictional world ?
- Iâm for sure going into a fictional world. Would I survive ?? Probably not, but Iâm still going !!
No pressure tags !!! @wishfulimaginings @itsbeenmyhonor @somewhere-in-the-rain @siobhanbooks and anyone else who wants to join !!
Wanna get to know my tumblr friends better cuz y'all are dope so have a tag game challenge if you want :)
Also, if you don't wanna answer anything you don't need to.
âŤDo you play an instrument?
â˘Favourite book characters?
â˘What's your star sign?
â˘Favourite colour schemes?
â˘Naps or long sleep?
â˘What languages do you speak?
â˘Dreams/aspirations?
â˘Long hair or Short Hair?
â˘Tea or coffee?
â˘Bring a book character to life or go into a fictional world?
No pressure tags: @thebestieyoureinlovewith @nikolaistealcoat @grishaverse-chaos @lostinfantasyworldsbi @lilisouless @l3st1b0urn3s-707 @arany-studio @waluigicumjar
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tattoo artist!vi who takes notice of just how beautiful you are the moment you step foot in her shop. itâd be the most difficult task in the world to not notice just how insanely breathtaking you are. itâs clear by the smirk on your glossy lips. you know just how good you look. caitlyn, being the woman she is, tries to jump in first. youâre just her type. violet would know, caitâs dated the anti-thesis of her since the moment you broke up. caitlyn kiramman loves pretty girls. anything she can do to be underneath them, sheâll find a way. you fit her bill. violet tried not to take offense of the ways your eyes light up taking to her ex-girlfriend. maybe youâre just nice. thatâs it, right? two minutes, someone who is almost as gorgeous as you walks in and then violet forgets about you as her next client walks in. she tries to at least.
tattoo artist!vi who doesnât stop thinking about you. itâs new york. thereâs plenty of pretty girls she can drown herself in. well, if she could figure out how to ask someone out without her crippling anxiety suffocating her. she knows sheâs somewhat attractive but her lack of knowing how to efficiently communicate it without sound like the weirdest fuck who has ever lived gets lost in translation. she doesnât like how sure cait is of herself when she talks about you though. violet doesnât even know you but seeing the glint in those aquatic-blue eyes make her want to punch something. itâs hard to even tell if it due to her budding crush or that itâs her ex. probably both but she ignores it.
tattoo artist!vi who likes to frequent bars on her days off. itâs when she doesnât feel alone. itâs fun to bug her sister, powder. sheâs always been more of a free spirit out of the two of them. an artist, a wanderer, someone who choses to bartend a couple nights out of the week just because she liked meeting new people, learning their story, what makes them tick. are they a mean drunk, happy, or will they burst into tears when you ask them how theyâre doing? vi isnât either really. sheâs quiet, calm even, but tonight part of her wants to cry. she feels lonely, lost, and even a little bit upset caitlyn is your first choice. she only knows your name because of the clientele list and that just feels pathetic. violetâs never been the smoothest of talkers, she knows that more than she feels the blood coursing through her veins. she isnât the girl and sheâs perfectly fine with it. perfectly. fine.
tattoo artist!vi who doesnât even enjoy work anymore. three months in and youâve been caitâs girlfriend and the feeling only gets worse. itâs clichĂŠ. a little fucked, but being in love with her exâs girlfriend? it doesnât get any lower than this. she let it slip days ago, only to powder, thank fucking god. if violet knew one thing, she didnât wanna deal with caitlynâs wrath. according to maddie, sheâd been a dog with a bone when it came to you. so protective it nearly turned into possession. she wanted everyone to know that you were hers and not anyone elseâs. it wasnât new to violet, cait didnât like being runner up to anyone. itâs why their relationship ended in the first place, especially when the girlfriend feels inferior to the sister. when powder comes around to the shop, cait canât help but wear her disgust all over her face like a poorly concealed mask. vi thinks itâs silly. the both of them are nearly the same itâs almost sickening. if only the other took the time to know the object of their disdain, they would see two peas sitting in a pod.
tattoo artist!vi who hates a messy shop. when personal items are left behind or someoneâs station isnât properly sanitized and clean. itâs why sheâs here, alone on the sunday, the only day the shop is closed. itâs been too long since she did a deep clean, just a week or too, but thatâs long enough for her. sheâs always been proud of what sheâs been able to accomplish her. even if she didnât have much, a girlfriend to love on, or if her father was on the other side of the country, she had this. violet ink. it was her name out on the sign over seeing the street, the luminous violet led lights kissing the downtown street. she made it this far and she couldnât let anyone run her off from something she fought so hard to build from the ground up. itâs why she was surprised when she saw you. your face free of makeup, your hair in itâs natural state, and you appeared more laid back than you ever were â in her shop. it feels like a fever dream she never wishes to wake up from. cait must have given you a spare key to the shop which she would have a discussion with her about that later because what the fuck? but itâs hard for her to stay mad when youâre standing there looking like a million bucks in the most casual pair of sweats sheâs ever seen. it feels different to who you usually are. shredded of the image you maintain, stripped back, thereâs just a softer version of yourself and vi canât help but contemplate if this is the side youâre so reluctant to show.
tattoo artist!vi who stutter how some stupid joke, trying to break the ice and it should have made things more awkward than they already were but your laugh full of symphonies just makes violet smile. in her best efforts, she craves to conceal it from you but itâs impossible when youâre looking at her. she canât help but smile â so she does. desperately, violet tries not to act nervous when youâre looking at her designs on the wall, not saying a word, just inspecting. thereâs a chill in her bones she feels, a need for her work to be loved because if it isnât? it eats her up from the inside out. maybe itâs embarrassing but she needs her work to be loved. whatâs the point if it isnât? itâs always been an extension of her soul, her life, and if someone doesnât like it? all they say is they donât like her. it may be the silliest thing in the world, but she needs to be adored. from a complete stranger, from the people who sheâs permanently tattooing, and especially from the beautiful women violet canât stop daydreaming about.
tattoo artist!vi who blushes when you tell her how much you love her designs. thereâs a soft touch to her shoulder, your thumb lightly tracing circles in her sturdy bicep. it feel innocent enough but vi doesnât give herself much time to think about it. painfully, she takes note in how your eyes soar when they make contact with her designs. even if it makes her cocky, violet knows sheâs good at her job. clients flying in from all over the country, just to get tattooed by her. with your undeniable charm, youâve convinced her to do a custom design for you but you wanna discuss it on sundayâs, alone. if anything, she should know this isnât a good idea. youâre charming, gorgeous and the prettiest thing sheâs ever seen. she should be afraid of caitlynâs wrath, of what would happen if she found out, but itâs innocentâŚright? sheâs a professional. no matter how much sheâs attracted to a client, itâs never been an issues and she certainly wonât make it one now. vi nods and the second she does, youâre leaping in her arms, into her space. you smell of lavender and lilies, like spring in the beginning of march. a sun-kissed marvel aching for the shine of summer, for one breath of fresh air. itâs really all she wants, a moment to be in the sunshine with you, if only for a moment at least she could tell the moon about it. her best kept secret and she would cherish every bit of it.Â
tattoo artist!vi who tries to keep her head down low as the weeks carry on. even when you try to make more of an effort to speak with her, the last thing she needs is caitlyn to take one final look at her and realize just how much she likes the attention. maddie already made one comment, even if it was light-hearted â itâs enough to keep her on edge. with the design being complete, all she needs is to tattoo but violetâs been avoiding you and whatâs worse? you knew it too. in her true avoidant style, violet failed to go to the shop the last two weeks on sunday. the tidiness and damn right organization of her shop was suffering but she still had plans of avoiding it. rather avoiding you, but in her forest fire of a mind, it comes all the same. all of this is so trivial, so stupid, so tragic. itâs kirammanâs day off and violet and sevika are the only artists on hand today which means sheâs overworked. the both of them are tired and violet just completed her last session of the day. she sneaks to the back enjoying the cigarette sheâd been itching to have. violetâs on her second one when you corner her into the brick wall sheâs leaning on. youâre too close. dangerously close, almost as if the fire youâve created in violetâs lungs might cause her to burn from the inside out. itâs chilling how silent you are until you arenât. youâre loud about the way you caress her exposed biceps, tracing the lines of her intricate tattoo as it crawls up shoulders and so do your hands. with a sharp graze, you scrap your nails across her skin as if you want to leave a reminder that she was in fact here. should she even even be here? letting you touch her in the way you are? but itâs not like vi has much of a choice when you push the hem of her tank top up to her ribcage, showcasing the flexing abs on her abdomen. it may be faint but thereâs a happy trail, one violet wants to see your lips on but sheâs scared to say anything, to move, to breathe. âcaitlyn said you were ripped underneath. i wanted to see for myself.â then your touch is gone and you are with it.Â
tattoo artist!vi who doesnât show up on sundayâŚfor the first couple of hours. violet thinks of that night, the way you touched her, like you knew exactly what to do before she even could think of what she wanted next. how on earth did you manage to paralyze her with a mere flick of your wrist? when your nails clawed at her toned abdomen, violet felt the stickiness in her boxers and youâd done all of nothing. she had to put an end to things, the private session, violet couldnât do it. she didnât want to be caught in some weird and perversed love triangle with her ex. in the back of her throat, violet feels the lump she constantly has to swallow. the only reasonable explanation is that this, you, is all some weird fantasy of caitlyn to get the last laugh. to fully degrade her in a way she couldnât, not when youâre the person who gets broken up with. itâs not a secret caitlynâs ego had taken a hit. to anyone, not being the first choice stings but to cait? it might as well be a death sentence and certainly it wouldnât stand.Â
tattoo artist!vi who isnât one for confrontation but in the need to savor some of her salvation in her dignity, she walks in the shop. youâre still waiting for her. two hours later, youâd hoped sheâd show. âviolet, you came.â itâs endearing but violet also sees herself the night before tangled in her black sheets, vibrator on its highest setting as she applies pressure to her clit, fingers nestled so deep inside her cunt as she hears your voice, thinks about your irresistible lips. violet wonders what you sound like when you come and suddenly the thought sends her hurling towards the edge. the smile you offer is almost like you can see right through her, like you know vi came to the idea of you just the night before.Â
with a slender smile, you make your way over to her and suddenly the internal dialogue she created to put an end to this arrangement died on your tongue when she shrugs viâs leather jacket off. sheâs only wearing her wrap to cover her chest, not intending on staying for a long time. definitely not enough to finish the beautiful design she created for you. sheâd get cait to do it. their styles were similar to it. your girlfriend has to do this. but youâre touching her bare skin. vi is losing focus as she feels the control slip into your greedy fingers.Â
âi know what youâre gonna say.âÂ
âand whatâs that?âÂ
âyou wanna stop this, meeting me here, you feel like youâre betraying someone you love and you have too much integrity to keep seeing someone you so obviously want to fuck.âÂ
âi canâtââ but the words die on violetâs tongue.Â
âsense wonât get to you, thatâs something caitlyn didnât understand. you think with your heart of gold. when it drips for someone, youâd let it bleed out if it meant you were saving someone.â you take a pause, slipping off your shirt as your pierced nipples are exposed. violet nearly begins to drool, her eyes unable to look away from your perfect nipples, the swell of your breast how perfectly they fall on your chest, sheâs nearly salivating to be offered a taste. âmy girlfriend doesnât understand youâve found someone else to be loyal to.âÂ
âthis is not, um, i didnâtââÂ
sweetly, you kiss her cheek. âitâs such a bitch isnât it? your heart wants whatever the fuck it yearns for, no damn mercy on who it hurts.â Â
violet can only think of how much she wants to be suffocated by your tits, forever trapped in this venus fly trap youâve caused her to succumb to. with her best foot forward, she wants to tell you to go to hell, that youâre wrong about her â she would never do something like this â until she does. itâs all tongue and teeth, vitriol and lust spills into her mouth as violet pushes you on the bench, ripping your skirt to shreds with her bare hands. only to find nothing underneath.Â
bent over the table, ass up in the air, violet wastes not a single moment and stuffs her face in your fat ass. with a gratifying need, she splits your folds on her tongue as she slaps your ass making you whimper and cry out for her name. itâs beautiful, violet thinks. someone needing her to bring them to the edge, and god, you arenât shy about it either. never has she heard anyone be so loud and proud about sex. so goddamn confident in each moan you let fall from pornogrpahic lips, itâs damn invigorating. the first one comes easily, you spill over viâs tongue as she moans back into your weeping pussy, liquid gushing over her face violet never wants it to end. the second time violet fucks you with her fingers, stuffing and fucking until there isnât any part of you that isnât undeniably shaking. the third time, youâre on top of her, the two of you finding comfortablity on the cot in the break room as violet lets you fuck her.Â
exactly what she expects it to be; hot, rough, fast. slippery pussy rubbing against hers until you collapse on top of her, breast pressed against her binded ones. you have a feeling they are there for a reason and you donât push, for once in your life, you let yourself succumb to sleep as you fall asleep in her arms.Â
tattoo artist!vi who doesnât see you for three months after she had the best sex of her life. even if it does sting, vi knows itâs for the best. six months in and youâre still with caitlyn despite your best efforts. surprising everyone, but violet for different reasons, you admit your slip up to cait but she forgives you. maddie and sevika make a game of it, trying to guess who make you cheat and when violetâs name comes up jokingly, caitlynâs words leave an unsettling pit in her stomach.Â
câmon, what is violet going to do? look at her. sheâs as loyal as a trained dog and i have you trained. donât i, cupcake?Â
tattoo artist!vi who focuses on her work, like a trained dog, she falls back into her routine. sundayâs arenât as pleasurable as they were with you, or one sunday she should say, but she dismisses the thought altogether. pushing it to the deepest parts of her mind becomes the only viable option. she uses other forms of entertainment to get her mind off of you. powder thinks itâs a good idea to be here but she refuses to step foot in here with her. this is where my path ends, sis. iâll be just up the hill when youâre ready. a not so subtle wink has her cringing and flipping her off blue-haired braided sister off in the process. this is such a good stupid idea but violet doesnât manage to convince herself out of this situation sheâs conducted for herself. anyways, itâs one night? no one ever has to know. from the moment she steps into the strip club, she knows she never should have been here. she keeps to the bar as she changes songs from the jukebox a few times. this has never been her scene nor will it ever. as she finishes off her class of neat whiskey, the familiar voice whispers into her ear, never thought youâd be here but i guess weâre both full of surprises.
#need to make a vi masterlist atp#the brainrot has severly taken over#oops?#yeah i'm posting this raw can't be bothered to reread it hehe#vi arcane#vi#violet x reader#vi arcane x reader#vi smut#vi x reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#league of legends
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Theodore Nott x Reader where they are doing 7 minutes in heaven? But instead it's hell. Love you <3
reopened wounds
theodore nott x reader
Summary: the request up above. You and Theo are Ex's, being stuck in a small space, reopened wounds from your difficult relationship with him
warning: minor heartbreak
a/n: new title , thank you for the request anon!!!:)) also I will be doing anon emojis soon!
The game is supposed to be fun, but the moment the bottle stops spinning, you know this is going to be anything but. It lands on Theo, and a wave of dread washes over you.
Your ex. Of all the people in the room, it had to be him. Your heart sinks, but you force yourself to stand up, the weight of all the eyes on you making it harder to breathe.
Theo doesnât even look at you as you both head to the small, suffocating closet. The door clicks shut, and thereâs an instant, heavy silence between you.
âYouâve got to be kidding me,â Theo mutters, shifting uncomfortably in the cramped space. His shoulder brushes yours, and you can feel the tension between you rise like smoke.
âNice to see you too,â you snap, your voice tight.
He doesnât respond. Instead, he lets out a frustrated sigh and shifts again, knocking into you. âThis is ridiculous. We canât even move in here.â
âGee, you think?â you snap back, the words almost escaping before you can stop them. The anger from your past with him surges unexpectedly, and your chest tightens. âItâs not like I wanted to be stuck in here with you, but here we are.â
Theoâs eyes flash with irritation. âYou think I wanted this too? Youâre the one who spun the bottle.â He shifts awkwardly, trying to make room for himself but only making things worse. His elbow jabs into your side, and you flinch.
âYou could at least be a little more careful,â you mutter, your voice strained.
âI am careful! Youâre the one moving around every time I try to do something. Just stop fidgeting, alright?â
âStop blaming me for your mess,â you snap, trying to push him away, but there's no space. âYou canât even stay still for five seconds without knocking into me.â
Theo groans in frustration. âGod, youâre impossible!â His voice is low but full of venom, and for a moment, youâre reminded of how it felt when you two fought like this before. How everything escalated, how he always made you feel like you were the one overreacting. You take a breath, pushing that thought away. Nowâs not the time.
âDonât start,â you warn, your voice shaky but cold. "Not in here."
âNot in here?â Theo sneers, and suddenly thereâs a sharp edge to his voice. âYou donât get to tell me what to do anymore. You gave that up when you broke up with me.â
The words hit you like a slap. For a second, you canât breathe, the weight of that old wound opening up again. His words are like salt on an old, raw scar. You had tried so hard to forget that nightâthe way everything fell apart between you twoâbut hearing him say it out loud makes it all feel fresh again.
âI didnâtââ you start, your voice cracking, but you stop yourself. You had your reasons for ending things, but now isnât the time to rehash it. âThatâs not what this is about.â
Theo scoffs, his face contorted with frustration. âThen what is it about, huh? You act like weâre fine, like this isnât killing you inside. You think Iâm enjoying this? Being stuck in a closet with you?â
âThen why donât you leave?â you hiss. âIf itâs so bad, why donât you just go?â
âMaybe I will.â His voice is barely above a whisper, but the bitterness in it is unmistakable. He shoves his hand through his hair, then steps on your foot.
âGreat,â you snap, your patience finally running out. âYouâre making it worse.â
âMe? Youâre the one overreacting,â Theo grumbles, stepping back only to bump into you again.
âI am not overreacting,â you retort. "Youâre the one acting like this whole thing is a tragedy. But you know what? Itâs not my fault weâre here. Itâs your fault forââ
âFor what? For loving you?!â Theo cuts you off, his voice cracking with old pain, the raw emotion surfacing despite his attempts to hide it.
"And for some reason loving me involved you constantly flirting with other girls? always canceling dates? only coming to me when you were hurt but never when I was? that wasn't love Theo. I was just convenient for you."
The words hang between you, thick and suffocating. You can feel your pulse in your throat as your chest tightens. your anger, your hurtâit all comes rushing back. All the feelings you thought you buried. All the love, the heartbreak, the why behind everything that happened.
Theo takes a shaky breath, but before he can respond, the buzzer goes off, cutting the tension like a knife.
You both stumble out of the closet, not looking at each other, your hearts pounding in your chests. Your friends are watching, but all you can hear is the echo of Theoâs words. Youâre both pretending itâs over, but the damage is done, and the old wounds between you two are raw and open again.
ἍáĄreblog's & comment's are appreciatedἍáĄ
Šlov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.
tag list: @juliet-017 @shityoudidntaskfor
#theodore nott#theo nott#slytherin boys#theo nott x reader#���ᥣđŠmy asks#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott fic#theodore nott drabble#theo nott angst#theodore nott angst#theo nott drabble#anon request
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I'm not sure how many of those Holiday Event asks you've got up to this point.. yet it's still worth giving it a try..! ( â˘Ě á â˘Ě )
Could you do Diasomnia with prompt no. 2 genre comedy, maybe some fluff?
[I can't stop imaging: Malleus acidentally knocking over the flour causing him to be wholly covered in it XD]
If you're gotten many reguest for the Holiday Event, you don't have to do this one ⤠Thank you in advance!
Great Kitchen Rescue || Silver
For the Holiday Event! || Theme: Cooking/Baking together ; Genre: Comedy with Fluff
When Lilia announced heâd be making dinner, your survival instincts kicked in.
âLilia, why donât Silver and I take over tonight? Youâve been working so hard recently,â you said, voice dripping with a desperation you hoped he wouldnât notice.
Lilia looked at you suspiciously, holding a jar of something pink and faintly glowing. âAre you sure? I had a very special recipe planned.â
âThatâs what weâre afraid of,â you muttered under your breath before grabbing Silver and marching into the kitchen.
The plan was simple: youâd cook, and Silver would handle anything that needed minimal effort. You assigned him the stew. Stirring couldnât go wrong, right?
Wrong.
You were just rinsing the rice when you heard a suspicious âthud.â Spinning around, you found Silver listing dangerously over the pot, eyes half-closed.
âSilver! Are you falling asleep?!â you shrieked, lunging across the kitchen to grab him.
âMm⌠noâŚâ he mumbled, head bobbing dangerously closer to the bubbling stew.
âYes, you are! Get up before you become the main course!â You yanked him upright with a strength you didnât know you had.
Silver blinked at you, a lazy smile on his face. âYouâre really good at catching people, you know that?â
âStop flirting and stay conscious!â
You wedged him between the counter and the fridge for support, and he obediently leaned back, eyes drooping again. You gave up. Fine. Youâd cook everything yourself if it meant saving everyone from accidental cannibalism.
After a heroic struggle, the meal was finally ready. You carried the dishes to the dining room with Silver trailing behind, yawning like heâd just run a marathon.
Malleus took a bite of the stew and gave a thoughtful nod. âThis is... remarkable. Thank you for sparing us from culinary experiments.â
Lilia looked deeply offended. âMy cooking isnât that bad!â
You raised an eyebrow. âLast week you made âsalmon surprise.â The surprise was that it was purple.â
Lilia waved a dismissive hand. âThatâs creativity.â
Silver, now fully awake after eating, leaned over and whispered, âYou really did save us all. Especially me. Thanks.â
You glanced at him, thinking about how close youâd come to serving up a âSilver stewâ special. âAnytime. Just promise me youâll never cook unsupervised again.â
Lilia stood suddenly, clapping his hands. âThis inspires me to bake dessert!â
You and Silver exchanged a look of pure horror.
âNO!â you, Silver, Sebek, and Malleus shouted in unison, with Sebek clutching his bowl protectively like his life depended on it.
Lilia just laughed. âHaha! You're all no fun!â
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#twst silver x reader#silver x reader#silver twst#twst silver
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josh and sam snowball fight (cr.)
#once again thank you reddit user girlbvy3e#imagine all the previous trips they took to the lodge. i know this is a canon event for jossam#i know they replaced mike&jess but they WOULD be cheesing that hard#they were all smiley when they went to the scary basement to turn on a freaking water boiler#imagine when theyre actually doing something fun#jossam#josh x sam#sam x josh#until dawn#joshua washington#josh washington#sam giddings#samantha giddings#jossam gifs#jossam gifset#josh x sam gif#until dawn mods#jossam mods#until dawn ch1#jossam ch1#why am i so attracted to josh peering around a pole ???
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[final part] kuroo x hard to get!reader
ohhh this was a fun little series. thanks for the support :)
warnings. nsfw, minors DNI
details. face sitting / riding kuroo / pining!kuroo / complicated crushes / hard to get!reader / switch!reader / switch!kuroo / rbf!reader / manager!reader / whiny!kuroo / training camp setting / degradation kink / quickie / play fighting kink / kuroo with a big ego / player!kuroo / 3.3k words
links. my masterlist. more haikyuu here. part one. part two. requests open.
There was only a small pause, short enough for him to realize what you were doing.
"Please just come in," He sighed, candid and contrite, "Until the storm passes."
At this point, you were both locked in a tense game of chess, unwilling to sacrifice too much truth at any given point, but unable to stop playing until somebody won. You let him slip your raincoat off of you and hang it up, gentle, attentive, playing eye tag for the length of time it took to close and lock the door.
The kitchen stole your attention almost right away, filled with the sounds of a ritual slaughter. The shouting was accusatory and excited, like someone had been deeply wronged.
"Stop that before you set something on fire!" Kuroo shouted.
He picked up the peace offering and carried it towards his needy, weary team.
Your eyes widened a little at his team captain voice, safe to react because his attention was split. You trailed behind him, hesitant, towards the commotion.
"Keep it down. We've got a guest."
The noise was broken for a moment of silence at the presence of hot food, landing right on the dining table, then a million eyes on you.
It looked like everyone was dressed comfortably because there were no girls around. You averted your eyes immediately from the few that were in just their underwear and found that most of them opted for no shirts.
None of them cared very much. They all went in on the giant bag like a pack of starving wolves, shoving each other out of the way, grabbing as many as they could hold all at once. One hit the floor and was picked up, placed right into somebody else's mouth for safe keeping.
You took a step back, closer to Kuroo. He was so tame compared to them. The bag was empty in 20 seconds; it would've been less than that, had they not been fighting over lukewarm scraps.
"Where's your Coach?" You surveyed the room and found nothing but Nekoma players, munching obnoxiously.
It was the most prevalent thing on your mind. You didn't want to be 'caught,' though your surface-level intentions were innocent and backed by evidence.
Right before you left your own team's corresponding lodging, Coach Ukai was rounding up all the guys, trying to put them down for bed like twenty rowdy toddlers. If everyone sat still, you'd be able to still hear him yelling down the pathway.
A short guy you caught earlier today as Yaku answered, between three big bites of a bun, "Oh, Coach Nekomata went to bed, like, an hour ago."
The guy was ancient. It made sense that he wouldn't be as involved as Ukai in his old age, but he also had no need to. His team was well-behaved. Despite their frenzy, they were still a much quieter group than Karasuno.
In fact, after all the initial thanks and praises sung for your angelic timing, it felt too quiet. You wanted to leave, get back to your familiar and fun team, despite the weather. Kuroo could sense it in your stiffness.
The team was preoccupied with their supper. He had to make some bold maneuver, or you would voluntarily forfeit and slink back in the rain- because that was somehow a more appealing option than admitting you wanted to have sex with him.
Fukunaga clocked the complicated mess that was your current dynamic for exactly what it was. Some weirdo mating ritual. First he noticed that Kuroo wasn't eating. Then that he was only speaking to you. He was the ticking clock personified, double fisting two delicious buns without blinking. His unwavering stare cut into you from across the kitchen.
You shivered at the intensity, shifted just a little towards Kuroo with your head turned, defensive, towards the lanky guy. "He's creeping me out."
Kuroo leaned further down to mutter against your hair, dismissive, "Him? Shouhei's harmless."
He lingered, bent at the waist, just to take in another breath of your hair. You smelled so good. He couldn't let you go back just yet.
"How about we go upstairs?"
Aside from Fukunaga, nobody had a mind to notice if you left now. It wasn't a 'Yeah, let's fuck,' but it was close, so you sat in hesitation for a good, still minute.
-
The pace naturally quickened the closer to the door you got, like you were being chased by something. It was mostly the threat of time, but the predatory vibe you both got from each other was substantial, like if you let your guard down for a second, the other would eat you alive.
There was a rushed cadence to the way you entered the room and how he slid the door closed- only slowing to completely lock it as quiet as possible.
Everything was still for a moment. The end game was in sight, and neither of you could predict who would be the first to let up. Would it end here, or as you were coming down?
"What's your deal?"
"What deal?" You snapped, arms crossed, glancing about the large room filled with pallets.
This was so risky. Nothing about the danger of getting caught up here appealed to you. You weren't sure if he understood how comprised you'd be if anyone heard about this- you'd have to quit your manager job, at least.
It made you rigid, inflexible conversationally and physically. He fought the need to cross his arms, too.
"Why did you really come over?" He threw his chin up at you. When he tried to close the distance, he noticed how you took a step back.
The irony was eating him alive; you were so delicate to work with, but merciless in your methods- and you just kept coming back around, sparing no time for him to find just the right angle to work through your impossible armor.
His dismal attitude marked the next words out of his mouth, "You just- get a kick out of torturing me, or something?"
A hum- no, a laugh. He looked at you to figure out what it really was, and found your expression a little softer.
You looked around the room, head rocking side to side, "Mmm...Yeah."
Kuroo rolled his eyes at how much it took for you to be honest with him. He muttered to himself on the way to his bedding. You could leave if you wanted, but he needed to sit down. Dealing with you made him tired.
It was passive enough to get you curious again. You came around eventually, taking the time to mosey through the little aisle of space between where everyone slept. He only looked up from his hands when he felt you sit and lean against his side.
The flinch back was too strong to be ignored. He winced at the way your brows screwed up, forming a negative, probably wrong idea of him already. He could hear you being let down.
"You're all talk," Your voice was kind, dismissive, but your gaze pierced right through him.
He had to act like it didn't hurt, as if you didn't just twist a knife in his stomach.
It wasn't his fault you had conditioned him to be wary of you, if he wanted to stay in your favor- if he wanted a fair chance at pleasing you.
It frustrated him that you put him in a box so quickly, inspiring rough and ready action.
But you didn't back down from the quick, hungry kiss he stole from your parted lips. It was a challenge, after all. You met it, leaned freely into it- fingers filling with his messy, still-wet hair, while he palmed at your waist to pull you into his lap.
"You're not a-," Kuroo cut you off on purpose with another kiss, so you pushed him against the floor, eyes narrowed at his smirk, "You're not a virgin, are you?"
Fingers hooked under the waistband of your pants, searching absentmindedly for your panties, he laughed- genuinely amused.
"Fuck no," Was a sigh, distracted by the subtle but undeniable rock of your hips on top of him.
The sensation was so much better than his hand. He pushed against you, eyes scouring every inch of the perfect sight before him.
"Then why are you acting like one?" You pulled your shirt off, tossing it a reachable distance away.
That look in your eyes was back as you struggled to undo the clasp on your bra for a second; what he could now read as 'You better be worth it.'
Kuroo sat up with a quickness, forcing you to rock back and lean against his thighs, his brow sifting through the implication of your words, but his eyes ready to deliver.
"What, I can't be a little nervous?"
Big, agile hands slid behind you with another crushing kiss.
Your bra was off in half a second, replaced with his warm palms. He groaned against your lips at the feeling- you melted a little into his hasty touch, his wordless declaration of desire.
You arched into his touch, into his kisses descending in a messy, wet flurry down your collarbone and over your perky buds. The addicting sensation of his tongue made your thighs squeeze, your hips to rolling over his with a gasp as you unbuttoned yourself.
Those big hands swallowed up your sides easily, so pleasant compared to the cold air that made your skin prickle.
Soon, you were pushing him again, harder because he wasn't as easy to remove this time.
His eyes searched you, watching you get up and only concerned for a moment before you took the rest of your clothes off, standing over him. He realized he couldn't catch his breath, perfectly still in awe at your confident smile, that self-imposed nudity you used just to get a rise out of him.
"Shit," He groaned. His back of his head hit his pillow and he openly palmed himself to the sight of you.
Those cat-like eyes were blown out, so dark against the whites of his eyes, a little hitch on his breath already before you could even think about sitting back down. You nudged his shin with your foot to bring him back to the land of the living, telling him to take it all off.
The guy was a nice size- worthy of some of his cocky attitude, at least. You sat on him to slide back and forth over him.
"This what you wanted, pretty boy?" Your eyes were smiling, but your little frown was what completed the look for him.
The clipped whine, loud, though it never got past his lips, told you yes.
You put your hands on his chest so he had to watch you slide over his cock, coating him, showing him how wet you had gotten from that killer body he flaunted around so freely. He was kind of a whore, and you wanted him to know it.
It felt heavenly but he would never have guessed it, based on that pissed off pout you still had. His nails dug into the fleshy part of your thighs, a big sigh to collect himself before he let go, hands clasped behind his head. It looked casual, enjoying the view.
"You wanna know what I want?" He teased.
You cocked a brow at him, still using his slippery member to get off with little circles of your hips. He rode a fine line.
"I wantcha to sit on my face."
Kuroo blew a kiss at you. It wasn't the kiss, rather the good idea that made you slow to a stop and hum.
"Oh yeah?" Your low-lidded eyes burned into his soul as you dipped to eye level.
Your breasts squished against him, a thumb brushing his glossy lips- you took his cock with one hand and lined him up against your pussy, sensitive head rubbing back and forth.
The little bit of pressure against you, as he bucked instinctively with a throaty groan, helped your point.
He was under a spell, breath shallow, his fingers coming undone with the built-in need to steady your hips and fuck you already.
You spoke to that struggle in his eyes, "You sure that's what you want?"
Kuroo unlaced his hands and, when you thought you had him, sitting further back on his cock, he pulled you up and off of him.
"Was saving just enough room for dessert, baby," He muttered, dark and restrained, but still managing a little bit of humor to shine through.
He sure did. That slick tongue of his did more than just aggravate the shit out of you- he could guess what you wanted by how you were riding his cock. Nothing too aggressive, just dizzyingly consistent and enthusiastic.
Because it was the notion of worship that got you off. How good did it feel? How much did you want to fuck him? That depended. How bad did he want it?
"F-uck," You moaned under your hand, legs shaking under the locked pull of his arms, "Fuck-mmnh!"
Kuroo's excited, well-placed moans vibrated against you, faltering your balance at the worst of times.
You kept a rough hold in that mess of black hair and rode his flat tongue with no shortage of eye contact.
It was like you hated each other, how vicious those looks got.
You couldn't stand it. You'd be damned before you came on his tongue. He was going to give you your orgasm with his cock.
When you tried to get off, he readjusted his grip, stronger-- you had to start prying his fingers, one by one, off of your thighs. He loved how whiny and cute you got in the struggle, but noticed you never once begged him to stop.
You jumped, failing one last time to get his arm off, at his silly groan buzzing against your clit, "Ah-!"
It took pressing your palms against his face to get him to let go.
His gaze was brutal, taking in the way your legs shook, as he pushed the rest of you off of his chin and onto his aching cock.
There was no point in changing positions. It was obvious you wanted to be on top. He wanted the view.
"O-ohh," You threw your head back, eyes screwed shut, at that perfect, pretty cock stuffed in you.
Your tight pussy took the breath out of him. His hands filled with your hips, bringing you slow, up and down over what you had been too proud to admit that you needed.
His low-lidded eyes took in every curve of your perfect body, every little bounce he fucked into you, especially the shocked expression taking your face. It wasn't dissimilar to what you had looked like watching him earlier that day.
"That feel good, pretty girl?" He raked his nails gently across your thighs.
He seethed at the intense feeling of you starting to fuck him right back. It was a move he hadn't experienced yet with any other partners.
And you got to watch him completely unravel before your glossy eyes.
"F-uck-!" He gasped, "H-oh, shit," was spilling out of his mouth, between the light sounds of him bottoming out into your soaking wet cunt.
His brows were screwed up, real vulnerable- it sent a chill through you and ended swirling up fast, turning into tension in your tummy that he threatened to fill.
You prayed nobody was in the hallway, or they'd be able to hear some downright incriminating sounds.
Your palm pressed over his loud mouth, barely swallowing your own whimpering to tell him, "Shh..."
The way you threw your weight back into his thrusts demanded a very whiny cry into your hand. You knew it; you knew he was a whiny fuck. You clocked him so well from the very beginning.
Maybe he would've been more of a dominant presence if he was used to dealing with girls like you- or maybe he liked giving up some responsibility, once in a while.
His big, strong hands groped at your tits as they bounced, brushing his skin just enough to get some sharp, rolling pleasure.
He slowed, his hips rolling deep into you- he moved out of your hand and took a breath through his mouth to gasp.
"You better not cum before me," You warned, a little stilted because of how close you were, but deadly serious.
Your resting face was just so bitchy. You looked like you hated him, but loved his cock by the way you fucked him.
Kuroo kept his edge at bay with his eyes unfocused, trying not to watch you. Just for you, just so he could feel you cum first.
He was so grateful -barely holding on, just a dumb toy for you to fuck at this point-, to hear a high-pitched break in your gasps, "Mm-!"
"A-h-mmn-!" You kept your sounds muffled so well with one hand, forcing him to keep his at bay with the other.
The tension in your face was incredibly cute. Probably the only look of its kind, when it came to what you were willing to show him.
It was all he could do to fuck you to the height of it, rough but so dangerously close after that he had to pull out halfway through yours.
And boy, were you glad to be keeping him quiet. That guy could wake up the whole camp if he wanted to.
He came all over his own tummy, sweaty and out of breath, not even pushing back against your hand. He looked exhausted. You were tired, too, but didn't wear it as clearly. You spared a minute to catch your breath.
A slow, little peck to his forehead.
"All talk."
You slid your hand off of him and composed yourself enough to stand, gathering up your clothes. You grinned at the deep frown you were able to conjure while he was still swimming in post-orgasm bliss.
Kuroo groaned, sleepy and filling back up with something unpleasant, running his fingers through hair. He sat up, still glossy with cum.
You were nearly dressed when he was carefully pulling his pants back on.
He was so broody at your words, grumpy when you got a tiny glance at his face- there was a shared, quiet understanding that he still needed to walk you back, so you quietly waited for him to wipe off in the bathroom and pull a jacket on.
The journey to get out the door was comical and exaggerated in nature. Lots of looking around corners, waiting for people to get distracted, for you to slip outside. Thankfully his team weren't concerned with your whereabouts.
Kuroo still had not said a thing to you until you were back at Karasuno's lodging. You had already made your peace with this as the end of it, entirely, and understood he wouldn't want to look at you again after tonight.
When you about to turn, to go inside, he spoke up.
"Did you get what you wanted?"
It was mean and assuming. You deserved it a little.
"Did you?"
He deserved it too. It felt like you both lost, in a way.
You leaned into a last-second kiss, hands coming out of your pockets to run your fingers through his hair again. It fell naturally into a very long, lustful thing between you. His hands pulled you against him, hot and heavy, hardly ready to let go when you heard some stirring from inside.
"Fuck, no," He admitted, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth.
The door was unlocking.
"It's a long training camp."
You said it vague enough so Daichi would have no idea what you meant as you walked by him.
He threw a hard look to Kuroo before closing the door, who returned it tenfold.
âVIPâ
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Haha, remember when we first met, Pearl? I had just come to the surface, and I didn't understand Inkopolis at all. You taught me everything I needed to know. I went to Mount Nantai every day for a week, just hoping you would show up again.
Bahaha yeah, I thought you were a stalker. I remember you singing when I showed up and then out of nowhere you were all like "LET'S STARTÂ A BAND!"
I just had a feeling about you.
#splatoon#pearl houzuki#pearl splatoon#marina ida#marina splatoon#pearlina#IMPLIED. marina is 16 and pearl is 19 in this art they definitely aren't dating for a long time#splatoon fanart#splatoon art#splatoon 2#lulla's art#digital art#god their anatomy and poses gave me so much trouble#if you see any mistakes no you didn't <3#i love their inconsistant refs between the like#two bits of art we get of them in these outfits#so i mixed and matched based on whichever i wanted to draw lmao#lineless art#fun fact the lineart was entirely done in a pixel art style before i decided i hated it#yes i traced the keyboard no i am not ashamed of admitting that they're hard :(#god i love lesbians thank you mr nintendo
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okay reblogging again now that i've read it all and it's really really good. The characters are super compelling, the setting is immersive and the prose itself got multiple outright laughs out of me. I'm a really big fan of the way it presents the horniness of the story. The way that it's largely isolated to implications in the descriptions of scenes early on, before Aster has been broken down by the inevitability of it, is really cool to me. Then of course, later on as the characters finally start talking about it, it feels like a catharsis to the Embarassment in how aster has been approaching the topic up till now. It's just a lot of fun in that aspect. Speaking of, Aster is a delightful protagonist. Their growth in just this chapter is really compelling, and sets the stage in such an exciting way for the future. Their trepidation and sheepishness really does work well to easy you into the setting. It's fun to empathise with their embarassment, cheer on their successes, and of course root for them to be teased and bullied. Much like i've always found in Valerie's work, there is some genuinely hard hitting and introspective stuff that I don't feel qualified to summarise or assess but it did just, work on me. In particular, the stuff drippy said about projecting your embarassment onto others really did hit home, and i'm hoping will help me out with that so uhhh thanks!! this was supposed to just be an endorsment but when i started talking about it i just kept thinking of new stuff and now its kind of a review i guess somehow?? if i'm formalising it like that, I wish i had more to say about the music (which I really like, but failed to notice I could turn on when i first read it and so i kinda, missed out on that context) and the art (which i really really love, but I have never been good at talking about what i like about art) it's just a really really good story and you should consider reading it! wait i thought of more to say don't go. I've been following valerie's work for like 8 years or something at this point, and seeing character concepts that I loved years and years ago being expanded on is just really gratifying to read! like earnestly seeing actual dialogue from drippy and finding out more about her is genuinley really cool to me on a very simple level and i like it a lot!
NEW RELEASE: CURSE/KISS/CUTE episode 0: âAster Asks!â
Read it for free in your web browser right now!
CURSE/KISS/CUTE is a new episodic erotic web novel about cute gay monsters hooking up in a cursèd wood, with full illustrations and an original soundtrack. đ For adults only! đ
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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.
Gossip Is Currency
Prompt Day 21: Formal | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Canon Background Stancy | Tags: Missing Scene from S2's The Pollywog, Post-Halloween "Bullshit" Scene, Pre-Steddie, Platonic Hellcheer, School Sucks, Eddie Knows
This is cruel and unusual punishment.Â
Eddie sits on the stupid folding chair, behind the stupid folding table, with a stack of tickets to sell to the winter formal. It was this or another suspension, and it was only because he was sure Wayne would not appreciate not having to talk to the principal again anytime soon, that Eddie chose this option.
They've got bubbly cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham sitting next to him controlling the money box that they definitely didn't trust him to be anywhere near, as they try to sell tickets to the kids still roaming around during extracurriculars.
Chrissy hasn't said anything to him after greeting him, and he hasn't said anything in return. They hung out once before, during a middle school talent show, but he doesn't expect that she remembers that.
Another shitty jock walks up.
"Two?" Chrissy asks.
"Yeah," the kid answers, and she takes the money, makes the change, and all Eddie has to do is hand over the two ticket stubs.
He resents it.Â
It's stupid, it'sâ
"It's bullshit," he hears from down the hall.
Yeah, it's exactly that.
And hell's frozen over, if he agrees with King Steve.
Harrington's in some sort of heated debate with Wheeler as they stomp down the hallway, bickering back and forth. She's a fucking firebrand, that one. Everyone thinks she's a priss, but oh no, Eddie's studied this whole school long enough to know that's not even remotely true.
Harrington's gonna get knocked down a peg or two under her, and deservedly so.
Seeing them coming in his direction is at least interesting. Eddie tears off the two tickets and hands them over to Tweedle Dumb, and keeps watching the free show heading his way.
"Winter formal tickets?" Chrissy asks Harrington, and Jesus H. Christ, does she have no observation skills? Now is not the time. This is the time to blend into the wall so they can get the dirty fucking details on this fight. Gossip is currency.
Harrington turns to look at them, and shakes his head no. He looks more sad than mad, and that isn't near as fun.Â
"Steve," Wheeler says, and she looks annoyed.
Harrington runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, and then they're gone.Â
Well, that was uneventful in the end. He didn't learn anything worth repeating.
Eddie had heard rumors of a Halloween night blow-up, but wasn't there to see it with his own eyes. Apparently they're still in a tiff today.
He can still hear the echo of them around the corner and down the hall, and well, he's nosey. It pays to know everything that's going on in this school.
"Be right back," Eddie says, and follows them down the hall, with the excuse that he's heading to the pop machine.
He digs four quarters out of his pocket, and pretends it's hard to make a decision, before hitting the Mellow Yellow button. The machine whirrs to life, and the can drops down. He feeds the other two quarters in, still trying to listen to Harrington and Wheeler fussing by the double-doors.
Eddie can't really decipher much besides hissing mumbles. Damn.
He presses another button without even really paying attention.
Welch's Grape Soda.
He might actually pick that over the Mellow Yellow he thought he originally wanted.
Harrington and Wheeler leave, so Eddie takes both cans back towards the table, holding them up, an offer, "You want?"
Chrissy smiles, "Really?"
Eddie nods, "You choose," he says, and she falters, just a bit, looking up at him like there might be a wrong answer.
There's no wrong answer here. No trick. He puts them both down on the table, "Totally fine either way."
She reaches for the grape, and is still looking his way. He nods, "Excellent choice," as he picks up the Mellow Yellow, and cracks open the can.
"Thanks, Eddie," she says, like he's given her something more than a can of pop. Carver's a bigger dick than he'd realized, apparently.Â
They sit in silence, waiting for more kids to finish up with their stupid clubs and practices.Â
The door clangs closed on the other end of the school, and they wait. It's Harrington again. He crosses the hall intersection in his little shorts, and Eddie can see that he's pinching his nose as he darts out of their line of sight as quickly as he entered.
Then it's just them, alone in the hallway again.
"She called him bullshit," Chrissy whispers.
Eddie turns and looks at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
She does.
"On Halloween. At Tina's party. She called him and his love bullshit. I heard it myself, waiting for the bathroom. She was drunk, not making sense about Barb Holland. It was pretty mean."
"No shit?" he asks, leaning closer.Â
She nods, giving him a rundown of the whole party. She's got all the good gossip, not just about Harrington and Wheeler's dust up. Eddie feels a twinge of something.Â
He's well acquainted with being shit on publicly.
Nobody's around this school, and Eddie gets up to go take a piss. He can't sit still. Hates it. And doing it for this is a special version of hell.
He walks down the hall, to the bathroom. He stands in front of the urinal, unzips and is pissing when he hears the stifled cough from behind him.
Eddie turns to look and sees familiar shoes under the stall door.
Tucking himself back in, re-zipping, he reaches over and flushes the urinal.
"Harrington," Eddie says.Â
He waits and there's no response.Â
"Harrington," he tries again.
"Go away, Munson," Harrington says, and then mumbles under his breath, "It's bullshit. I'm bullshit."
Eddie takes three steps towards the door, then impulsively turns back.
"She's wrong, you know? You're not bullshit."
And then Eddie waits a beat before adding, "You're just an asshole."
Steve chuckles, and Eddie smiles to himself as he turns and heads out the door.
Timing is everything.Â
Mission accomplished.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#prompt: formal#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#steddie fan fic#platonic hellcheer#steddie fic#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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Note: welcome to beaquinn hammock hookup! I'm formatting this on my phone bc I already put my computer in my bag, so I apologize if it looks wonky :)
Warnings: fingering, public & outdoor sex, handjob
WC: 2225
SMUT UNDER THE CUT! (I don't have my normal graphic for that since, yet again, I'm on my phone.) Minors, do NOT interact. Thanks!
Bea feels remarkably like a cat who is napping in a sunlit window. The moonlight doesnât actually warm her all that much, but the red wine in her stomach and Quinnâs body heat does. Theyâre stargazing, but Bea has curled up into Quinnâs side and started to breathe him in. It would probably be expensive and unrealisticâ try impossibleâ to bottle him up like a perfume, but with her nose pressed into the side of his chest, she would like nothing more.
Not only is he keeping her warm and smelling good, but heâs also so fun to touch. Quinnâs bicep is acting like a pillow for Bea, her knee is thrown over his leg, and her hand is on his stomach. Bea could fall asleep right here, on the ground, so long as Quinn is touching her.
Her fingers are a little bit cold, though. Itâs the middle of summer, but since the sun has set, thereâs a slight chill in the air. Sheâs already wearing Quinnâs Palm Angels Creative Services sweatshirt, which is big on Quinn and massive on Bea, but sheâs cold.
There is a solutionâ the human hand-warmer beside her.
Just as Bea is snaking her hand under Quinnâs t-shirt and flattening her palm over his happy trail, sheâs wrenched out of the moment by Honeyâs cross voice.
âStop that,â Honey chides.
Sheâs probably talking to Jack or Cole, or even Trevor, so Bea doesnât pay her any mind. She continues her motion, finding the slight dip of Quinnâs v-line and tracing it.
âSeriously, Bea, stop it or go,â Honey adds, indignant.
Now itâs clear that sheâs directing her complaints at Bea. Ugh. She doesnât get it. She doesnât have Quinn underneath her, with these lovehandles that she just wants to bite and pinch and love on.
Quinn shifts underneath her and catches Beaâs hand, halting her movements. âWeâll go to bed,â Quinn decides for them, holding Beaâs hand and dragging her up to a seated position. âCâmon, Bea.â
Bea groans, scrunching up her face. Moving is so hard. She raises her arms petulantly and blinks up at Quinn, doe-eyed.
He chuckles and shakes his head at Bea, smiling down and gathering her up in his arms. âNeedy girl, did all that wine stop your legs from working?â He teases good-naturedly.
Beaâs stomach flutters. âI would just rather cuddle you,â Bea replies. She snuggles closer to Quinn and buries her nose in his chest, inhaling deeply and obviously and making Quinn laugh.
âSeemed like you wanted more than a cuddle, baby,â Quinn says knowingly. âHow are you feeling?â
âFeeling like I want my boyfriend to touch me,â Bea sings, flattening her palms on Quinnâs chest and dragging them down his torso seductively once he sets her down, her feet against the ground so she's standing, but there's still very little space between them. His nostrils flare a little bit at his title, which is still fresh enough that it evokes a reaction from Quinn.
Jack and Honey can share looks all they want, but Bea and Quinn should be allowed to soak up the honeymoon phase as long as theyâd like. Itâll all end at the end of August anyway, so whatâs a month of mushy, over-the-top PDA?
âOh, yeah?â Quinn asks. âWhat should your boyfriend do to you? Heâs not going to fuck you in the hammock, F-Y-I.â
Bea frowns and digs her fingers into Quinnâs waistband, inching them down. âWhy not?â
Quinn looks at her, unimpressed. âBecause the hammock will flip over and weâll fall out if I fuck you the way I want to fuck you.â
Bea hums. That sounds enticing. âMaybe we should sneak into Honeyâs room,â Bea jokes. She wiggles her eyebrows and laughs. âYou can fuck me to your heartâs content.â
Quinn looks off to the side, back toward the group, chuckling with Bea. âI think if we fuck in Honeyâs bed, then she and Trevor will fuck in our bed.â
âHm, good point,â Bea says. âWe donât want that. Not Trevor, at least.â
âExactly.â Quinn pecks her forehead. âBut, the sooner you get in the hammock, the sooner I can make you come on my fingers. Does that sound okay?â
âBetter than okay,â Bea agrees. She hops into the hammock and tries to keep the swinging fabric steady for Quinn. Once he collapses on top of Beaâs body, she kisses his temple. âOnce you make me come, Iâll get my hand on you, too.â
âSo generous,â Quinn murmurs. He seals his mouth over hers and coats her tongue with his taste.
He tastes just the same as she does, probably. Her tastebuds are coated with red wine and Quinnâs kisses are slow, tinged with sensuality. Bea could kiss him all day and all night, if sheâs being honest. Given how little time they have, she never wants to part from Quinn.
The pads of his fingers inch between her legs, rubbing Beaâs core over her shorts. âYou wanna take these off?â He asks.
Bea nods. âMhm,â she agrees. âI kind of like the idea of being exposed like this.â
Quinn groans, swooping in to kiss her again. âFuck, I love you,â he tells Bea.
Heâs been saying that a lot lately. Itâs not like she told him to stop, but she also hasnât said it back. It makes her⌠anxious, maybe, to hear Quinn say that he loves her? Not always in a bad wayâ in moments like this, it makes her giggle and remember that theyâre a great match, but other times it just reminds her that things are going to be really difficult at the end of August. The real reason that Bea doesnât stop Quinn from saying he loves her, though, is because he always says it so earnestly. He truly means it and she doesnât want to stop him from saying what he means. She doesnât want to silence him.
Luckily, heâs kissing her again, so she doesnât have to reply. He usually does that. Heâll smother her lips before she can think of a response to his statement. Bea suspects that he knows that sheâs not quite there yet and thatâs why he doesnât give her a chance to hesitate.
Heâs so⌠good. If Bea was to make him in the Sims, sheâd almost certainly put âGoodâ as one of his three personality traits.
She loses her shorts and Quinn shifts her panties to the side, baring Beaâs pussy to the summer air. He intertwines their legs, able to press his rapidly fattening length against the top part of her thigh. As one of his hands slips between her folds, prodding at her entrance, his other cups the back of her neck and keeps their lips slotted together.
His tongue fills her mouth again as two of his fingers bluntly push into her heat. Heâs only just started to thrust them in and out whenâ
âHey,â Honeyâs soft voice hisses, sounding like sheâs already grinding her teeth together and grimacing at the idea of interrupting.
Bea barely holds back a snort when Quinn flinches away from her. This isnât the first time Honey has interrupted her in the middle of somethingâ after all, they did live together for a year. There were only so many times that Honey was willing to be sexiled from the house that she was paying to own.
Quinnâs face goes from a âdeer-in-headlightsâ expression to one that is more calm. He turns back to Bea, looking down at her. âDo you want a blanket?â
Bea sits up, leaning on her elbows to do so. She looks over the edge of the hammock at Honey. âYou can just drop it there,â she says. Then, she grins, seeking to make Honey just a bit more uncomfortable with her next words. She always makes the funniest face when she doesnât want to hear something about Beaâs sex life. âQuinnâll come get it in a second. His hands are a little busy right now.â For good measure, she clenches down on his fingers, which surprises Quinn and makes him blush.
The blanket hits the ground with a muted thump. âI didnât need to know that.â Honey deadpans before turning on her heel and walking away. âHave a good night!â She wishes in false cheer.
Bea thinks quick on her feet. âJust trying to cross something off my Rice Purity Test,â she calls after Honey, laughing to herself. Honey flips her off without looking back, which effectively ends their conversation. Bea lifts her arms and curls them around Quinnâs neck, bringing him back down to kiss her lips.
âAre you actually?â Quinn asks between kisses. âFor the Rice Purity Test?â
âNah,â Bea says. âI think my score is low enough. Plus, Iâve had sex outside before. It just wasnât quite like this.â She tilts her head up and pecks his lips again. âBut, I have crossed a few items off because of you. Kissing for more than two hours consecutively? That was all you, Q.â
âWhatâs your score?â Quinn inquires, sounding interested.
âUh, 40, last I checked,â Bea says. âDefinitely not too shabby, but not too slutty.â
Quinn has begun moving his fingers again, bringing waves of pleasure with his movements. âDefinitely not slutty.â
âWhatâs yours?â Bea asks.
â42, but I guess Iâm knocking off âpublic sexâ and âoutdoor sexâ right now,â Quinn teases. âSo weâre the same. Not slutty at all.â
Bea giggles. âHmm, if youâre good, Iâll give you the $5 bill in my wallet and we can both get down to 39?â
Quinn snorts out a laugh into her mouth and brings his thumb to her clit. âQuiet, you. You get to come free of charge today.â
âOh, thank you, Quinn Hughes,â Bea simpers before locking lips with Quinn and keeping him close.
Their kisses are as sloppy as his crude thrusts, sounding similar as well. Their lips smack quietly as they come together and part, breathing into each othersâ mouths before diving in for another round. Quinnâs fingers move in and out of Bea at a leisurely pace, savoring her slick and working in tandem with his circling thumb.
Itâs only once Bea shoves her hand into Quinnâs shorts that he starts to speed up. Itâs a race against each other, with Bea stripping Quinnâs cock until his hips are twisting away from her grip and Quinn pulsing his fingertips against Beaâs g-spot in a way that has her whimpering against his tongue.
Quinn pushes a third finger past Beaâs entrance, doing everything he can to bring her to the peak before he comes in her hand. His effort is for naughtâ when Bea twists her fingers in his hair and tugs slightly, causing that burning ache in Quinnâs scalp that he likes so much while he eats her out, he shudders on top of her and begins to spill in her hand.
Bea catches what she can, doing her best to make sure there will be no cumstain on Quinnâs shorts when they rise and greet the others in the morning.
When he finishes quivering under her touch, Bea draws her hand from his shorts and brings her hand to her mouth.
Quinn draws back and, eyes hooded, watches her lick his cum from her palm and fingers. He looks slightly more drunk than he was originally, intoxicated by the view in front of him.
Bea smirks as she sucks, taking her time with Quinnâs cum.
Quinn grips the back of her neck and draws Bea forward, trapping her hand between their bodies and crashing his lips against her own. Heâs greedy and insatiable, pressing his hips and softening cock against her thigh as he thrusts his fingers inside of her.
âWish I could get my mouth on you,â Quinn tells her quietly, but rushed like the world will end if he doesnât say it. âIâd suck your clit âtil youâre coming all over my face, baby. Nothing in the world tastes better than you.â
âShit,â Bea replies, blinking hard at his words. Her hips jump under his touch, thighs shaking with his insistent bullying of her inner walls. âYâre gonna make me come, Q.â
âThe whole point,â Quinn says with a little laugh. âI want you to. Come on my fingers, Sweet Bea. Make a mess for me, give me something to lick up just like you did.â
Bea moans into his mouth when he kisses her a final time, the seal inside of Bea snapping and allowing endless shocks to overtake her body. He fingers her through her climax, laying kiss after kiss on her lips.
When she comes down, he withdraws his fingers and makes good on his promise. Quinn overexaggerates his satisfied hums and even rubs his stomach like her cum is the tastiest thing in the world, which has Bea throwing her head back in laughter and popping him good-naturedly on the head. She also tells him that heâs acting weird, which is when he chills out a bit.
Bea smiles fondly at Quinn as he cleans his fingers, fisting his t-shirt and pulling him closer, although her tugging really only results in rocking the hammock. Theyâre quick to fall asleep, with Quinn replacing Beaâs shorts and venturing out to get the blanket Honey left them. It keeps them nice and warm, legs still intertwined, for the entire night.
#puck-luck's fics#andy writes anythingđ#small town girl x tz#beaquinn!!#quinn hughes#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x oc#qh43#nhl#nhl smut#nhl fanfiction#hockey smut#hockey romance
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I am sooooo late replying to comments, but I have been feeling like crap so I am just now crawling out of my hole. And I know that Star isn't gonna mind that I'm late <3 anyway, here we go:
Star: I just LOVE these scenes of characters getting "caught" in a secret relationship (even if it's a fake relationship)
Sunny: okay but characters being 'caught' doing something that they 'shouldn't be' is SOOOO ICONIC. especially when what they're doing is not actually illegal or that immoral, they just feel like they need to hide their relationship and feel so caught out when other people find out. it is such a great trope (I really need to write it more). I especially love it when it's like "my super protective older brother can't catch us dating because he will kill you" and then the older brother catches them, attacks, and it prompts "don't hit me, okay, I love her!" and this is the first time that brooding emotionally disconnected love interested has ever said The Big L in front of his girlfriend. IT HIIIITS HARD
Star: "They belonged to him now and he didnât want to put them back" don't be shy... put them on đŤŁ
Sunny: we need to see Stiles in panties at some point. we really really need to do a Pantyboy Stiles fic at some point. SECRETARY, PUT THAT ON MY SCHEDULE. oooooh IDEAAAAAAAAA - Stiles wearing panties, FORGETS HE IS WEARING THEM (would be such a Stiles thing) and goes to change after practice (maybe after a cross country running practice via S3?) and because he was late, the only other person in the locker room is Isaac, and Isaac sees the panties and will not let him live it down. teases him so badly, but because it's Horny Isaac, the mockery quickly turns into horny teasing, and when stuttering Stiles accidentally lets it slip that he was only wearing the panties because you, his girlfriend, likes it when he does, Isaac's brain goes nuts because you're a hot girl and you're kinky - and he knows immediately that he wants a threesome. (I feel like I need to write this fic now. I need to write it).
Star: âYa know, this really isnât your color - red would look much better on you.â Danny smirked" STOP PRETENDING YOU'RE NOT INTERESTED DANNY !!! A LITTLE TOO QUICK TO THINK OF STILES WEARING PANTIES !!!
Sunny: Danny is a gossipy bitch. He isn't super interested in Stiles, he just loves to talk shit. Also I mentioned Stiles wearing red because of that one TV show where Dylan wears a red lingerie set lmao
Star: "Seriously?â Isaac asked" hi baby !! not that I'm not happy about it but... have you .. always been here ...? hello (WAS HE HERE FOR THE DRAFT ???? every new Isaac line I'm like... "hi how long have you been here for?")
Sunny: this is hilarious to me because I know you didn't read the A/N where I was talking about the fact that I added Isaac in here just for my own fun - because when I wrote this, we were only on the early episodes of season 1 and Isaac doesn't come in until season 2 so I didn't have him in this draft. But I am very glad that I added him <3
Star: "Jesus, Scott, donât ruin this for me,â Isaac whined, rolling his eyes" KSKSKSKS Isaac getting the spank bank ready AS WE SPEAK
Sunny: it's a lil treat for me <3 but I fucking love the idea of locker room talk perv Isaac
Star: âEw! Why do you have them?â a hot girl cutting Jackson off with a very loud "EWWW" is very healing to me, you're so right diva...
Sunny: this reminds me of that tiktok audio EW DAVID!! EW DAVID!!!
Star: "Wait. Why were you covering for him?" now that the fear of god has settled in his heart, we must continue
Sunny: THE FEAR OF GOD. why is this one of the funniest things you have ever said lmao
Star: "running a single finger along his bare torso" i have a very vague memory of saying something that led to this... good job past Star, never change <33
Sunny: you ATE IT UUUPP with this. I am so thankful that you thought of this omg
Star: âDoor.â this is still SO CUNTY !!!!!
Sunny: it is SOOOOO cunty. what are subby men if not little dogs to boss around?
Star: "Stiles was so pretty, tied up for you, ready to be devoured" love thinking about the next day in the locker room, everyone (Jackson and Isaac probably) grilling him for details and Stiles blue screening cause how does he explain it?
Sunny: I love describing Stiles's brain melt as 'blue screening' lmao. also Stiles would be so excited to brag and he would be like "there was some bondage involved" and the guys would be like "WOAH YOU TIED HER TO THE BED" and then he's like "no, she tied me to the bed" and then they're like "...oh"
Star: "Instantly, he let out a loud moan around your tit" Stiles, to me, is such a "boobs guy", it's CRAAAAAZY ! Like almost to a stereotypical degree
Sunny: he is another guy who would do anything for the promise of boobs. you could order him around with the promise of boobies and he would do anything
Star: âDear god, what the hell is that?â I FORGOT ABOUT THIS !!!!!! INSAAAAANEEEE !!!! "His dad moved to leave the room, and then he sighed and paused in the doorway" SKSKKSKS i love that the awkward middle aged instincts were overpowered by the "responsible parent" ones
Sunny: this was one of my favourite endings to write ever!!!
I am so sorry I was late but I am so glad that you liked the fic!!! I love our little dumb subby Stiles
Stupid For You
Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader
Hey - tell me what you want me to say. You know Iâm Stupid For You.
Iâll take what I can get.
The best is hard to grip when everybody wants you, and everybody wants you.
Summary:
Stiles tried to return your panties - he really did.
But he still has the contraband in his possession, and he accidentally drops the underwear in the locker room in front of the entire lacrosse team. To cover up the fact that he stole them, he lies and says that he got them from you after a hook-up. And surprisingly - you back up his story?
Only with the promise that he helps you turn his lie into the truth.
Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP.
Word Count: 11,900
Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link
Before you read this fic, be sure to read BRAINWASHED. This fic can be read as a standalone, but you get more Stiles goodness by reading both, and the context of this one will make more sense if you read the other fic first.
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; this fic DOES use Y/N; as with the previous fic - the reader is implied to be fat/plus-sized; also again - for argument's sake, even though the character's in this fic are in high school, everyone is at least 18 (and the fic was inspired by a 20 something actor, so imagine the characters to be whatever age you want); mentions of panty stealing (carried over from the previous fic - Stiles stole a pair of the reader's panties in that fic and still has them in his possession); mentions of Stiles masturbating, but not described in detail like last time; mentions of Stiles having sexual fantasies about the reader; the rest of the lacrosse team finds Stiles with the panties and mocks him for it - they mock him for potentially having the panties to wear them and call him a 'cross-dresser', so I guess the warning here is transphobia and transphobic ideas (which would be very typical of high school boys, especially around the time this show was made in 2011); mentions of other members of the lacrosse team finding the reader sexually attractive (it is implied that the reader is generally known as a hot, attractive girl); mention of the reader wearing a 'slutty' Halloween costume to a party (Stiles has a picture of it that he 'loves'); for the actual smut section - the reader is dominant and Stiles is submissive; size kink - Stiles likes being manhandled by the reader because he is thin and skinny; the reader imposes rules on Stiles as a dom and he follows them, but there is no safeword implemented or needed (as the writer, I say they don't need one because they will never be put in danger of using one) (because they are fictional characters and their hard 'nos' will never come into play and only things they want will happen); orgasm restriction - Stiles has to ask the reader in order for permission before cumming; bondage - the reader uses a scarf to tie Stiles's wrists to the bed; the reader gives Stiles a handjob; lots of dirty talk; orgasm denial/edging (towards Stiles); the reader calls Stiles: needy boy, good boy, babe, baby, sweetheart; undertones of humiliation kink; undertones of pain kink (nothing severe, but Stiles does like a bit of pain); begging (from Stiles, a lot); protected penis in vagina sex (they DO use a condom this time) (different, I know); Stiles sucks on the reader's tits; Stiles eats the reader's pussy; thigh riding - Stiles grinds against the reader's thigh to cum; praise kink - towards Stiles; the reader calls Stiles 'pretty'; undertones of dumbification kink; I believe that is finally it. I hope you all enjoy!!
A/N: So, I have some mixed feelings about releasing this fic. Currently, I am only rushing to edit and release it in order to get it off my plate, and I want to do so before the end of the year. I wrote this during the hiatus, when I was writing fics without editing them and I really enjoyed getting to write a fic and go onto the sequel without having to stop and think too much about it. But to me, the first fic feels naturally complete. And so I didn't really like people nagging and continually asking for a sequel to the other fic as if it's not a complete fic on its own. It's only recently that I found a way to put it into words. Whenever I release a fic and people only care about seeing a sequel or a second part (especially if it's a oneshot with an intentional ending and people ask for a sequel like it's something so urgent), it makes me feel like that fic is not good enough because people view that fic as incomplete on its own. I know people think it's a compliment or flattering to ask for a sequel, but to me, if you like my writing, ask for me to write more for those same characters or in that same fandom - but if you are constantly asking for a sequel to a specific fic, it makes me think that you think that fic is not good and it needs to be completed in some way. But anyway - I tried to remember why I had fun writing this fic in the first place, and if anybody starts asking for a 'part three', I will start swinging. (THERE WILL NOT BE A PART THREE.) Also, when I originally wrote this, I was watching Season 1 and I had not met Isaac yet, so for my own fun, as my own special treat, I added Isaac to the locker room scene. Because he is my baby. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!
...
A week later, Stiles still had not returned the stolen panties to you.Â
It was something that he kept meaning to do. Honestly, he really did.Â
But he just never got the chance to.Â
Somehow, in that entire week, he had never been left alone in your room. Not for long enough to actually figure out what to do with the stolen goods. Should he leave them in your hamper and let you find them in the laundry? Should he slip them back into your drawer like nothing had happened since, technically, they were clean? He always ended up panicking and shoving them back into his bag whenever he heard you coming back down the hall.Â
On other nights when the two of you had been studying together, it had been at his place instead of yours. And any time he had gone over to your house, you had been with him pretty much the whole time.Â
And okay - maybe that wasnât entirely true. Maybe you had taken bathroom breaks or left the room for a while because your mom wanted to talk to you. Or you ran downstairs to grab a pizza that you had ordered to share with him - but every time he opened his backpack to grab the panties in order to put them back, he felt some insane thing inside his head telling him that he just couldnât do it. Part of him thought that it was fear over getting caught - the idea that you would walk back into the room just in time to see him with the evidence in hand.Â
But deep down, he knew it was a possessiveness. The idea that these panties were now his. They belonged to him now and he didnât want to put them back. Those panties were his prize - his special, secret little part of you. And he couldnât give that up. Not yet.Â
He hadnât jacked off with them since that first time. Well, he hadnât specifically put them around his cock and made a mess of them in the same way. But he held them in a clean hand and enjoyed the texture of the lace, enjoyed the thought of you wearing them - while he used his other lubed hand to make himself cum. And he had done that every single night, sometimes twice, since he had taken them. It was becoming a bit of a worrying habit.Â
He was wondering if you had noticed them gone yet.Â
Maybe, when he finally did get rid of them, he wouldnât return them back to you - he would have to burn them or something, just to get rid of the evidence. And then he would have to go on believing that you either hadnât noticed the specific pair gone or you went on thinking that you had simply just lost them.Â
But he couldnât dwell on that for too long - because he did actually have other things to do besides viciously jerking off to thoughts about you. Even though that activity alone took up way too much of his time these days. Surprisingly, he was doing a lot better in his classes thanks to studying with you (he actually managed to retain a lot more of the material when you explained it to him), and he had just made First Line of the lacrosse team due to a horrible outbreak of pink eye. So things in his life were really looking up.Â
The team funneled into the locker room, sweaty and tired after their practice, but personally - Stiles was glowing.Â
He felt like he had done particularly well that day, and you had shown up to watch his practice. Even if Coach kept getting his name wrong and you had almost stormed into the middle of the field to scream at him about it. Overall, it was a good day. And he had a study date with you planned after this, so he had nothing but excitement brewing in his stomach at the idea of getting to spend more time with you.Â
But then - it happened.Â
He had almost completely forgotten that the contraband stolen panties were even in his bag. The item had become such a normal part of his life now that he hadnât even considered what might happen if someone else found them on his person. So he thought nothing of putting his bag on the bench in the middle of the room and rooting through it, wide open, looking for the fresh clothes he had brought with him. (Of course, the only reason he had even brought fresh clothes was because he knew he would be hanging out with you later, and he wanted to avoid another Mustard Stain Incident.)Â
When he took out these fresh clothes and began dressing (fresh out of the showers, of course) - it was just a tiny blur in the corner of his eye. Just a little streak of purple falling to the floor. As he put his second foot into his jeans, he spotted them, right there, sitting in the middle of the locker room floor - and his heart stopped.Â
Naturally - someone else spotted them too.Â
And just as Stiles raced to pick them up, another hand snatched them out from under him.Â
âWoah, Stiles.â Dannyâs voice chuckled, rising back to his full height. âAre these yours?âÂ
Mockery was dripping in every inch of his words, and Stilesâs heart raced. He rushed to pull his pants up, not yet fastening his zipper, and he glared at Danny, entirely lost for words. He moved to snatch the purple lace panties where Danny was dangling them off one finger, partly disgusted, partly amused.Â
Naturally, Danny dodged the move, still looking at Stiles with mockery written all over his face.Â
âYa know, this really isnât your color - red would look much better on you.â Danny smirked.Â
Wait - he thought that Stiles had them because he had been wearing them?Â
This comment easily caught Jacksonâs attention, who slammed his locker door shut and moved to see what his friend was talking about.Â
âOh my god,â He chuckled, looking at the item in Dannyâs hand and then back to Stiles, amusement spreading into a horrible grin across his face. âYouâre a cross-dresser! This is too good. I always knew you were a freak, but this just brings it to a whole new level.âÂ
Jacksonâs loud voice caught the attention of the entire team, who all craned their necks to see what he spoke of - including Scott, who practically ran around the corner with his hair still soaking wet and some suds dripping off him, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist as he raced to see what Jackson meant.Â
âWhat?â Scott balked, looking at Stiles entirely confused.Â
âLook, theyâre not mine!âÂ
Stiles barked, panic setting in as he realized how fast the rumor would spread. It would be incredibly juicy gossip, if it were true (and most people didnât care if gossip was true or not, which would make it spread even faster) - so he rushed to stamp it out before that could happen.Â
âThey belong to Y/N!âÂ
With this harsh declaration, he reached out and snatched them back, and Danny was too shocked by these words to move away this time.Â
The room fell deadly silent, save for the distant hum of the shower that Scott had left running in his haste to watch the confrontation unfold. Everyone was staring at Stiles unabashedly now, very clearly shocked by his words.Â
Fuck.Â
Stilesâs heartbeat ramped up again. He had been so quick to try and exonerate himself that he had walked into a whole new problem:Â
Now everyone on the team would find out that he was a panty-stealing pervert. And he wasnât sure which reputation was worse: that, or being assumed to be a secret cross-dresser.Â
âSeriously?â Isaac asked, being the first one to speak up and break the silence. âBecause if you of all people managed to hit that,â He let out a low whistle, let a train blowing out a hoot of steam. âI admire you. She is so fucking hot. Normally she doesnât give guys at this school the time of day. How did you-?âÂ
âNo, no fucking way, theyâre not hers.â Jackson scoffed, cutting off Isaacâs congratulatory words, immediately in disbelief. His natural instinct was to think that Stiles would never be able to get with someone as hot as you. âSheâs a ten and youâre a solid three. Maybe. In the dark. With a bag on your head. That so did not happen.âÂ
Stiles frowned at the insult, but he was relieved that nobody suspected that he had stolen the underwear. Nobody had seen through him to the much more likely truth.Â
âCome on, heâs like a four.â Danny added on. âHe could easily be a seven if he changed his hair.âÂ
Feeling suddenly self conscious, Stiles put a hand up to his head - and felt entirely confused about where this conversation was going.Â
âYouâre getting off topic,â Scott piped up, looking between Danny and Stiles, his face nothing but pure confusion. âYouâre telling us that you finally, actually went for it?âÂ
He was shocked that you and Stiles had gotten together without him knowing it. And he was slightly disappointed that his best friend had gotten some action with his long-time crush without telling him about it.Â
âYeah, come on - give us some details.â Isaac added on with a grin.
âYes, yes I did! I finally went for it.â Stiles replied, mocking confidence, puffing out his chest. âY/N and I hooked up in my Jeep last week. And these are hers,â He added on, proudly holding up the underwear as his prize.Â
If he was going to screw himself with a lie, he might as well make it a big one.Â
âReally?â Jackson posed, clearly still not believing him. âSo - how did it go down? Did you get to second base? Third?âÂ
âUh⌠remind me of the bases again?â Stiles muttered.Â
Isaac rolled his eyes, and Scott looked as though he was making calculations in his head.Â
âWhat was it - handjob? Blowie? Did you finger her? When did you get those?â Jackson persisted. âIs she a screamer?âÂ
Stilesâs gut twisted. So he was going to need details for his fake story.Â
âYou are so utterly barbaric.â Danny muttered, turning back to his locker, clearly tuning out of the conversation now that it had gotten too âstraightâ for him.Â
âGross!â Scott disrupted Stilesâs internal panic with a face of twisted disgust. âCan we not talk about one of my best friends like this? Please?âÂ
âJesus, Scott, donât ruin this for me,â Isaac whined, rolling his eyes.Â
âYeah, McCall, shut it.â Jackson grunted, dismissing him. âI just wanna know if Stiles here is lying.âÂ
Scott simply rolled his eyes and retreated back to the shower. He was someone who truly believed Stiles at his word. Even if he had never smelled the pheromones of sex on him, he guessed that âhooked upâ meant something else to Stiles.Â
Stiles hated that this left him alone with several pairs of eyes dissecting him - the guys on the team who were perverted and gossipy enough to want to know the details of his hook-up with you.Â
âWell - Iâm not lying.â Stiles hissed through his teeth. âShe - we. Well - we made-out in the backseat. And then - she - she rode my dick. Hard.â He said, knowing that his tone didnât sound the most confident. But he supposedly had proof right there in the form of your underwear.Â
âHmm, really?â Jackson replied, still not convinced. âYou know what? Why donât we just go and ask Y/N about this whole thing? She and Lydia are waiting outside, arenât they?âÂ
Oh fuck.Â
Stiles was screwed. So, so screwed.Â
His stomach rose up into his throat and he couldnât get words out, couldnât scream out ânoâ, couldnât do anything to stop Jackson (who was fully dressed and ready) as he snatched the underwear out of Stilesâs hand and marched out into the hallway. All Stiles could do was rush out into the hallway in pursuit, following Jackson and the group of gawking looky-loos that had followed who now seemed very interested in this piece of drama.Â
Stiles didnât even have time to pay attention to the fact that he wasnât yet dressed himself - he didnât have a shirt or shoes on and his pants werenât even fastened. He couldnât bring himself to mind because he was about to be outed as a thief and a pervert, and likely about to be violently jumped by the entire team for it.Â
He wished that he still had his lacrosse pads on.Â
You and Lydia were standing against a couple of random lockers, chatting idly, and you both looked utterly confused by the mob approaching. Lydia looked even more confused (with a hint of disgust) when she saw that Stiles was still half naked, and if Stiles wasnât flooded with panic, he might have noticed you raking your eyes over his torso with a certain hunger and then licking your lips.Â
âHey, Y/N,â Jackson smiled at you trying to be charming. âThese fell out of-â He held up the underwear to show you, and you immediately frowned.Â
âEw! Why do you have them?â You cut him off, snatching them back before he could finish his sentence.Â
âAre those your underwear?â Lydia asked, looking between you and Jackson with anger brewing. âJackson, why do you have another girlâs underwear?â She ground out sharply.Â
âWell, as I was saying,â He said, clearly annoyed. âThose fell out of Stilesâs backpack. And he claims that he only has them because he hooked up with you, Y/N,âÂ
You and Lydia both looked at Stiles - you, with a certain content glow in your eyes, and Lydia, glaring at him while her lips curled in unhidden disgust. Jackson stood there with a smirk, as though waiting to be right, and there was a moment where nobody spoke that Stiles swore his heart swelled up and climbed out of his throat.Â
Then, you let out a soft laugh and said:Â
âYeah. We did. Why is this such big news?âÂ
Jackson glared at you and Lydiaâs expression of disgust became even more prominent. Stiles became dizzy with shock and he hoped that nobody noticed the way his chest flexed as he let out a breath of relief.Â
Thank God - you were covering for him.Â
Wait. Why were you covering for him?Â
âHe and I have been hooking up for months now. We didnât want to parade it around the school as gossip and I made him promise that I wouldnât become locker room talk,â You stressed these words, giving him a small glare.Â
Behind Jackson, Isaacâs face became painted with guilt.Â
âBut itâs true.â You said, giving Stiles an oddly sultry look. He knew he was standing there with his mouth stupidly agape, but he just couldnât find it in him to close his mouth. âThe last time we hooked up, I gave him these panties in case he got lonely on nights I canât visit.âÂ
You reached out, running a single finger along his bare torso from sternum right to the waistband of his underwear where they were sticking out of his jeans - and yup, his dick was definitely ballooning to life now.Â
âI didnât intend for everybody on the lacrosse team to put their grubby hands all over them.â You said this sharply, glaring at Jackson now.Â
He simply rolled his eyes in reply. Clearly, he hated the idea that he had been wrong, and he was pouting in silence now.Â
âOkay, this has been sufficiently gross.â Lydia announced, effectively ending the conversation. âJackson, can you go get your stuff so we can leave? We have dinner with my mom at five, and-âÂ
âYeah, yeah.â Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes again.Â
âStiles, you better hurry up too.â You told him. âI need to get that bra I left in the back of your Jeep.âÂ
And then - much to his shock, you leaned in and laid a kiss right on his lips. Firm, but fast. Laying a claim on him right in front of everyone. Owning up to the story materially as much as you had with your words.Â
If it hadnât been for Jackson slapping him on the shoulder, Stiles would have been frozen with shock long after you pulled away. But then, he was on autopilot, walking back to the locker room with Jackson and the other onlookers who were whispering in hushed tones about him âbanging such a hot girlâ.Â
âI gotta tell you, Stilinski, I did not think that you had it in you.â Jackson told him, this being a compliment coming from him. âBut I guess somehow, you ended up with a ten.âÂ
âI definitely want more details later.â Isaac told him in a low whisper before he returned back to his own locker.Â
Somehow - Stiles had come out on top in this situation.Â
In the hallway behind them, Lydia sighed and locked you in a judgemental gaze.Â
âReally? Stiles?â She asked, harshness seeping through her voice.Â
âWhat?â You shrugged. âHeâs cute.âÂ
Lydia waited for further explanation, and you folded.Â
â...And heâs easy to boss around. I like it when he gets flustered from simple instructions, but then does it anyway.âÂ
âOh.â Lydia nodded. âSo itâs a kink thing.âÂ
You laughed, shaking your head. You couldnât entirely disagree with her.Â
âŚÂ
It wasnât until Stiles was nearly finished dressing, sitting on the bench tying his shoes that it truly hit him:Â
He was still utterly screwed.Â
Even if the guys on the team thought he was some high school hero for somehow managing to get into your pants (some of them high-fiving him and patting him on the shoulder in congratulations before they left the locker room). And even if, for some bizarre reason, you had chosen to cover for him in front of everyone (he put that on you being a loyal best friend and quite literally not wanting to air your dirty laundry in front of everyone) - you still knew the truth. You and Stiles might be the only people who knew, but both of you still knew the truth.Â
For a minute there, he had been deluded enough to start believing his own bullshit story. But it was still complete bullshit.Â
There hadnât been some heat of the moment romp in the back of his Jeep that resulted in you naked for him, losing your underwear or giving them to him as a reward. He was still a pathetic virgin who had stolen them and had no right to have them in the first place. He still had to face you, likely knowing that this was the end of your friendship, because you were the only person who knew about the horrible thing that he had done.Â
Stiles dreaded facing you, but he knew that he couldnât hide out in the locker room forever. So he grabbed his gear and he braved his way into the parking lot, where you were now waiting by the Jeep since Lydia had left with Jackson. You were distracted, looking at something on your phone, and Stiles savored the few moments he had left to admire your beauty before you would declare that you hated him forever and never speak to him again.Â
In all honesty, Stiles expected you to slap him, yell at him, and then leave. He expected you to, at the very least, tell him that the friendship was over and that he should never talk to you again.Â
He was entirely surprised when he approached you and nothing of that nature happened.Â
Instead, you gave him a cold, uninterested look before you said:Â
âDoor.âÂ
In the most deadpan voice ever, while motioning to the passengerâs side door - oh, of course. Obviously meaning for him to open the door for you.Â
It was something he usually did upon instinct anyway (always bending over backwards to impress you) but today, the intense dread hanging over his head had caused him to forget.Â
He rushed to get the door for you and you climbed into the passengerâs seat as you usually did, still not yet speaking to him. So then he busied himself with putting his gear in the back, still feeling anxiety curl in his gut at the conversation that would inevitably take place during the ride home. At least you still felt okay with riding with him. Perhaps the friendship wasnât entirely ruined after all.Â
He climbed into the driverâs seat and began fumbling with his keys in nervous, shaky hands, not yet ready to look you in the eye. You were staring at yourself in the flip-down mirror, fixing your hair, wiping off some lip gloss that had smeared. Usually this would be a moment he would absolutely drink in, loving to stare at you while you did such menial tasks. But today, after being caught doing such a horrible thing, he was absolutely drenched in guilt and he just couldnât bring himself to face you.Â
The two of you simmered in the silence for a few moments. He was waiting for you to bring it up - for you to scream, yell, hit him, do something.Â
He was surprised by what came next.Â
âYou said your dad isnât gonna be home tonight, right?â You posed, still looking in the mirror rather than at him.Â
It was what he had told you at lunch, inviting you over to watch some horror movies that you had been bugging him to see.Â
He had guessed those plans would be canceled, hinging on what had just happened.Â
âUh, yeah.â He said, confirming it once again. âHeâs working the night shift.âÂ
âGood. Weâll go to your place then.âÂ
You thought he would start to drive at this confirmation, but he was still unsettled by anxiety. He was still waiting for you to acknowledge it, at least.Â
âUgh, okay⌠are you gonna yell at me?â He burst out, knowing that it was incredibly stupid, asking to be yelled at, but he truly didnât know what else to do at this point. You gave him a strange look, almost confused, and ran his hands over his face in frustration. âCome on! We both know what happened!âÂ
âStiles, my, my⌠what are you talking about?âÂ
Your voice was dripping with sarcasm and your eyes were filled with determined mischief, and he knew then and there - you wanted him to say it. You wanted him to blatantly confirm in his own words what he had done.Â
Stiles let out a harsh sigh, leaning his head down and accidentally bumping his forehead against the steering wheel in a way that made the horn dully beep, the knot growing larger and tighter in his gut.Â
âCome on, you knowâŚâÂ
He trailed off, hoping that you wouldnât actually force him to say it. He sat upright again, and you continued to look at him expectantly, patiently, and he swallowed around the terrible dryness in his throat before he forced himself to say it.Â
âI - I stole your underwear and kept them in my bag.âÂ
You both knew that he was leaving out the part where he had masturbated with them. Even if you had no proof of that, it was starkly obvious to you.Â
But you decided not to push him about that detail. (For now.)Â
âOh. That.â You said, continuing to sound utterly sarcastic in your cluelessness.Â
Then your tone switched to something oddly genuine as you said something he never would have expected.Â
âIâve been waiting for like a week to see if you even had them. I kind of thought I was going crazy. I thought maybe my cat stole them because you werenât fessing up and you didnât try to bring them back,â You sighed. âI was worried my whole plan failed.âÂ
Something inside of Stiles snapped, and he thought it was the last branch on his tree of his sanity. He chose not to worry about it for now.Â
âY - your plan?â He stuttered out, barely grasping at the reality of what you had meant.Â
You had wanted him to find your underwear? You wanted him to take them? You wanted him to-?Â
You let out a bright, amused laugh.Â
âYes, dummy!â You said, reaching up and poking the side of his head while he stared at you in utter shock. âI left the panties there for you to take. Youâre cute, but god - youâre really dense sometimes.â You let out a sigh. âNow drive, please. As long as the blood currently trapped in your dick isnât gonna distract you too much.âÂ
He hated that he got a sick thrill from you mocking him and calling him âcute, but denseâ. But he was glad that he was used to driving with boners that you had given him, because it didnât distract him too horribly. Thoughts of what would happen when the two of you got there had him running a few stops signs, though.Â
âŚ
Stiles still wasnât entirely sure how the heinous crime of stealing your panties had gotten him into this glorious position, but with the way things were going, he no longer cared to question it.Â
The minute that the two of you got through his bedroom door, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a bruising kiss. He struggled to keep up, clumsy but entirely excited against the movement of your mouth, wondering if he had somehow gotten sucked into another heated daydream.Â
But no, that couldnât be true - because this was so much fucking better.Â
The smell of your perfume in his nose, the little puffing breaths you let out against his cheek, the little moans that emanated from your throat. And holy hell, the feeling of your tongue shoving past his lips that caused him to let out a pathetic moan of his own as you seemed determined to filthily fuck his mouth with it.Â
You were a lot more aggressive in real life than you were in his dreams.Â
But he fucking loved it. He loved it so much.Â
His cock was already throbbing in his pants, likely staining his boxers with copious amounts of precum as you walked him back toward the bed. You then used the hand you had in the middle of his chest to shove him roughly back onto it.Â
âOh my god.âÂ
He squeaked out the words at the feeling of being manhandled by you - given, he knew he didnât weigh that much and he had made no effort to put up a fight, but it was still hot to know that you could shove him around so easily. Which was something he would have to mentally unpack with himself later. But for now, he would simply just enjoy it.Â
While his dick continued to ache harder, he looked up at you in awe. You were standing at the foot of the bed with your lip gloss smeared, your chest heaving slightly with a wicked grin on your face. Stiles had never seen a more beautiful predator in all his life. The look in your eyes told him that he was about to be absolutely devoured by you - and he couldnât fucking wait.Â
âY/N, please-â He was about to begin begging, but you cut him off sharply.Â
âShut up.â You barked, and he felt a beautiful wave of hormones crash over his body at this. You were much more aggressive than in his dreams. It was so perfect. âNo more talking now.âÂ
You put a knee on the bed between where his thighs had naturally draped open and you leaned over his body, crowding tightly into his personal space. He hoped that the needy whine he couldnât contain as you raked your nails across his scalp wouldnât count as âtalkingâ. He was desperate to follow your rules - so desperate to be a good boy for you.Â
âYou will do everything I tell you to.â You whispered against his lips, and he nearly began shaking as he resisted the urge to close the gap and kiss you again. âUnless you want me to tell all the boys on the team that youâre actually a filthy perv who stole my panties?âÂ
âY-â He nearly gave a verbal confirmation of this, but then he remembered what you had said.Â
No more talking.Â
Instead, quickly picking up on following the rules, Stiles nodded his head aggressively.Â
âFrom now on, you do not look at any other girl, you do not touch any other girl, you belong to me - do you understand?âÂ
He had no clue what âother girlsâ you thought he might possibly be touching, or even talking to in a non-platonic way, but he got another tight thrill at being claimed as yours. He wanted so badly to be yours - to be your good boy.Â
He nodded aggressively again - his tongue lolling out of his mouth, slick with want, practically drooling down his chin like a dog at this point, his eyes staring at you with a hypnotized kind of need.Â
âWhen we are having sex, you do not speak unless prompted, you do not cum unless I give you permission, and from now on - you do not touch yourself unless I tell you to.âÂ
His cock throbbed weakly in protest at this. He swallowed thickly, his throat straining with complaints about your words. He knew it would be difficult to go from jerking off every morning and every night to likely not at all, but fuck - you, on top of him, you wanting to have sex with him - it was more than a fair price to pay.Â
If someone had told him a week ago that he would be in this position, he would have given up anything for it.Â
So naturally, he nodded again.Â
âDo you understand?âÂ
He stayed silent, believing that he was following your rules.Â
âTell me that you understand.âÂ
âI understand.â Stiles breathed out in a rush, nodding again.Â
âGood. Now take off your clothes.âÂ
You got off the bed again and he was momentarily distracted by watching you shuffle through your bag for something, but then he remembered the instruction. You wanted him to take off his clothes. You actually wanted to touch him.Â
Stiles rushed to strip and he didnât have time to be self conscious before you were kissing him again, drowning him in hot, open-mouthed kisses as he stepped out of his underwear and jeans where they were pooled around his ankles. You pushed him onto the bed again and this time followed him, straddling his waist while still fully clothed yourself. Wearing the shirt, skirt, and tights you had worn to school that day, making for an odd sensation as the fabric covering your hot cunt rubbed against his now bare, very hard dick.Â
He didnât think anything of it when you grabbed his hands and brought them above his head - but then there was fabric encircling his wrists, and he pulled himself away from your mouth to blink up dumbly, wondering what you were doing.Â
You had gotten a scarf out of your bag, and you were tying him to the bedpost.Â
âRemember what I said?â You grinned at him, tying a knot that was surprisingly secure. âGood boys get rewards, and bad boys get spanked.âÂ
He tugged experimentally on the hold, and it was pretty firm. Not tight enough to cut off his circulation - but he definitely didnât see himself getting out of it without help.Â
His stomach jumped as he wondered which you had deemed him as - good or bad. Especially because he was now tied up, completely at your mercy. He was splayed out on his back, so this wouldnât be an optimal position to spank him in. But theoretically, you would do whatever else you wanted to him. And that thought sent an odd tingle through his body, causing a wonderful jolt through his cock. Â
âIâm gonna give you a chance to earn a reward, Stiles.â You told him, delivering another messy kiss. âYou gonna be a good boy for me?âÂ
âYes.â He answered eagerly. âFuck, yes - I wanna be good for you.âÂ
You grinned at this.Â
He was more than eager to see what you were gonna do next.Â
A sharp jolt of anxiety hit him when you sat up (leaning more of your weight on his cock, causing him to let out a pathetic moan) - he hated being separated from you already. He churned in anticipation as you took a moment to sit there and just admire him.Â
Stiles was so pretty, tied up for you, ready to be devoured - his honey eyes glossed over with need and anticipation, his lips bitten pink and slightly swollen, parted in that beautifully dumb way as he heaved out shallow, desperate breaths. Yes, he was skinny - even playing lacrosse hadnât managed to put much muscle tone on his body, but you did find a certain appeal in his lithe, thin form. You gained a certain thrill from knowing that you could so easily man-handle him, toss him down, and he really wasnât strong enough to put up much of a fight in return.Â
His cock, leaking frantically between your legs - was beautiful in its own way. A healthy six inches and nicely thick, his pubes dark, thick and untrimmed. Unkept because he definitely hadnât been expecting anyone to see him without clothes anytime soon. Charming, in a sense.Â
Just as Stiles was feeling smothered by the anticipation, by the heated gaze of your eyes running up and down his body, you then leaned to look in his bedside drawer. He wanted to scream for you not to do it, but he had a feeling that it would be breaking your rules; that it would be a âbad boyâ thing to do. And that would run the risk of you not touching him at all.Â
You let out a laugh when you saw what was in the drawer.Â
âYou know, somehow Iâm not surprised that this is almost empty.â You told him, bringing out the dwindling bottle of lube and placing it beside him. âYou must like it really wet, huh?âÂ
The words were absolutely filthy coming off your lips, intentionally so on your part, but it sounded like a rhetorical question. He swallowed a whimper, but said nothing.Â
âAnd this,â You picked up one of the many pictures he had of you in the drawer - one of you in your Halloween costume from last year. Lydia had dared you to wear something âsluttyâ, and you had shown up to her Halloween party in a black leather bra, a leather mini skirt, leather boots, and a pair of cat ears. Stiles had spent most of that night in the bathroom. âI have to say, Iâm flattered.âÂ
You have another bright giggle before you put the picture back and then closed the drawer.Â
âSo - you think about me a lot, do you, Stiles?â You asked, scooting back on his thighs until you were sitting on his knees.Â
Not a rhetorical question.Â
He swallowed thickly, gathering himself to answer.Â
âYes.â He answered, his voice far too weak for his liking. âAll the time.âÂ
You hummed thoughtfully at this.Â
You reached to your waist, untucking your shirt from your skirt before you lifted it off completely over your head, revealing your blue lace bra to him. Dear god, you were so perfect. As you tossed your shirt off to the side, the bra strap slumped down your shoulder and he mourned over not having his hands free, wanting to gently lift it back up, or rip the whole thing off you, wanting to kiss along your shoulder-
âHow often do you think about me?â You asked, reaching for the bottle of lube.Â
Stiles felt a wave of shyness splash up inside of his gut. But he knew that it was useless to deny the truth now. He had already been caught, over and over again. You wouldnât mock him now if he just admitted it.Â
You cracked the top on the bottle, and the sound shook his insides - his dog-like mind so well trained to associate the sound with having his dick touched. He licked his lips, viciously trying to get his mouth to work in tandem with his brain. You had asked him to speak. He needed to speak. But that was growing more and more difficult while he stared down the ample cleavage coming out of your bra and shook with the anticipation of you about to touch his cock.Â
âEvery day.â He whimpered out. âAll the time, I-âÂ
He let off a choked sound when you poured some lube into your hand and then finally, after years of him dreaming about it, you wrapped a loose, cool, wet grip around the base of his hard, leaking cock. His hips jumped up into your touch and he let out a choked sound from the back of his throat while you continued to look at him with an absolutely wicked grin.Â
âStiles,â You said his name in a firm tone, reminding him that he was supposed to be giving you an answer.Â
âI canât stop thinking about you!â He shouted, much louder than he had intended to. âAll the time, I - I feel like Iâm going insane. Youâre too perfect, youâre too hot, I-I-I-â
âHey, shh, baby.â You told him, running the other hand up his thigh in a way that made him gasp.Â
You used that loose grip on his dick and began jerking him off, spreading the lube across him in the most leisurely way possible. It was a dull pleasure, but one so perfect because it was delivered by you.Â
He had no clue how absolutely deliberate it was. But of course - everything you did with him was so deliberate, so well planned out to drive him entirely insane.Â
âHow often do you jerk off?âÂ
You asked, curiosity ripe within you as you imagined it: Stiles splayed out on this exact bed, pants around his ankles, his hand wet with lube and creating a sloppy blur on his cock as he jerked off as fast as possible, absolutely desperate to cum - his face twisted with pleasure, his thighs tensing, your name hot on his lips.Â
You really wanted to know the kind of things he imagined, what made his kinky little mind tick. You wanted to know just how desperate he was to steal your panties in the first place. Did he think that he could get away without you noticing them gone or was he just too horny to care?Â
You tightened your grip slightly, continuing to drag your hand up and down his dick in long, slow, deliberate strokes. You wanted him hard, throbbing, and desperate - even more so than he already was. You wanted him blinded with pleasure and begging.Â
âA lot.â He breathed back, bucking his hips up to meet your touch, clearly already needy for more.Â
You put a firm hand on his hip, pinning him to the bed. You tutted your tongue, scolding him.Â
âCome on, Stiles.â You said, your tone somewhere between mocking and scolding. âYou can be more specific than that.âÂ
You tightened your grip again, your hand now acting like a firm vice around his cock - something that made him moan deeply and close his eyes. You let him enjoy it for a few moments as you stroked him deeply, slowly - spreading the wetness over his cock in deep, pleasurably strokes. For the first time ever, delivering the pleasure of having a hand on his cock that wasnât his own.Â
Already, intense pleasure was knotting up in his stomach. Already - he was getting close to cumming.Â
You could tell that from the way his breathing shallowed out, the way his stomach tensed.Â
You pulled your hand back completely, leaving him to let out a confused sound and pop his eyes open at top speed, craning his neck up to look at you with utter disappointment while you continued to grin at him.Â
âTell me.â You instructed firmly. âHow many times a week do you make yourself cum?â You continued your interrogation. When his face flashed with a streak of guilt, you changed the question. âHow many times a day?âÂ
Stiles took a sharp breath.Â
Again, he felt caught.Â
âTwice.â He said it quietly, before gathering his courage. âTwice - twice a day. Usually⌠once in the morning and once at night.âÂ
You giggled. âNeedy boy.âÂ
He was rewarded with your touch back on his cock. He let out a deep, satisfied moan as you started jerking him off again, wet and smooth, a bit faster this time. It created a lovely wet noise and he let out another moan when he heard it.Â
âWhat do you think about when you touch yourself, Stiles?â You asked, your voice low and sultry - warm, inviting him to the possibilities.Â
Perhaps, if he told you about the things he thought about, his most private and guarded thoughts, then you might make them come true.Â
âYou.â He moaned back almost instantly - trying to buck up into your touch again but being held down by you again. âI - I only think about you. I swear.âÂ
You licked your lips.Â
It was something you loved to hear. But you yearned for more details.Â
âCute.â You sighed. âAs flattering as that is, babe, I want specifics.â You pressed. âSpecific fantasies. Come on, you must have kinks,âÂ
If he had to summarize it - his kink was you.Â
And it was growing increasingly difficult to think with your hand pumping on his cock.Â
âYour - your thighs!â Stiles blurted out frantically, saying the first thing that he thought of.Â
Even now, feeling the heavy, warm fat of your thighs spread across his knees, had his cock jumping in your hand - had him buzzing and dizzy all over. It was one of his favourite parts about you, something that made him hard if your thighs brushed against him when the two of you sat too close together on the couch during a movie night.Â
âYour thighs are so - so thick, and beautiful, and big, and-â He choked off into a moan when you moved your other hand to his balls, spreading some of the lube there and gently massaging them in a way that sent a jolt through his whole body, practically making him seize off the bed.Â
You let out a giggle.Â
âWhat else, baby?âÂ
His cock was hot and pulsing in your hand, and you knew he was close again. But you wanted him to get right to the edge before you cut him off this time.Â
âI - I think about - about having your thighs wrapped around my head,âÂ
He choked out, stuttering as he began humping into your touch, so desperate to cum. He had pretty much forgotten about your earlier rules by now, had forgotten about asking for permission, and he just needed to cum into your touch. He needed it so badly.Â
âI wanna eat you out so badly. I wanna taste you. I wanna eat your pussy. Please, please, please, please-!âÂ
This visceral begging tipped you off to the orgasmic delirium he was tipping into, and you squeezed your touch sharply around the base of his cock to keep him from cumming, even going so far as to give his balls a light tap in punishment. He let out a bitter gasp as his orgasm was sharply cut off, the feeling drowned bitterly in his stomach. It left his muscles so tight and left him flailing against his binds for a moment, squirming chaotically underneath you.Â
âBad boy.â You scolded him, your voice wicked and causing his dick to throb woefully in your unforgiving touch. âYou didnât ask if you could cum.âÂ
You leaned down and bit one of his nipples - pure teeth, unforgiving, and it made him cry out in a gargle of his own spit as his head became even dizzier. He didnât even have the mental capacity to question why he liked the sharp spike of pain so much, especially not when his balls were throbbing so terribly, and he needed to cum so fucking badly.Â
âPlease?!â He cried out. âPlease? Can I cum? I need it, I need-âÂ
âShh, baby.âÂ
You hushed him again, taking your hand off his dick and leaving it to rest leaking against his stomach, running both your hands up his torso in a soothing touch as you leaned in and pressed a few sweet kisses on his open, whining mouth.Â
âIâll give you a chance to be good. Is that what you want?âÂ
âPlease.â He replied, so desperate that he was on the verge of tears now. âI wanna be good for you, please.âÂ
âIâm gonna ride your pretty cock now. And if you wait to cum until I tell you,â You pressed these words hard, making sure he paid attention to this part. âThen Iâll let you eat my pussy. Does that sound like a good reward?âÂ
âYes.â He replied, entirely breathy and excited. âPlease, please. Iâll be good.âÂ
âOh, baby. I know you will.âÂ
This spilled from your lips as an overly syrupy coo, and he couldnât help but to yearn for more of that sound.Â
You got off him, then, and he let out an utterly disappointed sound - instantly missing your weight and the heat of you above him.Â
Stiles looked on with curiosity as you went back to your bag. His heart thumped with anticipation when you came back with a condom, and didnât hesitate to open it and then roll it onto his still very stiff cock. (Just the few touches of you doing this had him warming with even more pleasure, and he worried that the touch of your pussy around him would cause him to cum instantly, disappointing you.)Â
Then, he watched in awe as you stripped off. Your skirt, tights, and underwear, giving him a pang of disappointment that you left your bra on. You did this with intention, though, slightly worried that the sight of your bare tits would cause him to blow it too early.Â
âOh my god.â Stiles let out another whimper as you straddled him once again, putting a hand on his cock to line it up with your pussy.Â
Fuck, holy fuck - this was really happening. He was really about to fuck you. He was about to fuck your perfect pussy.Â
It was just as beautiful as he had imagined - covered in trimmed hair, which was glossy with your wetness. Fuck - he yearned to see that pussy spread out underneath him. He yearned to taste you. Even just feeling the heat coming off you as you lined up the tip, even through the condom - it was deadly.Â
He was not going to survive this.Â
He squeezed his eyes tight and held his breath, and you didnât like that. You used your free hand to give him a light tap on the cheek - some small semblance of a slap, a grounding reminder that you were there, controlling him.Â
âHey, come on. Look at me.âÂ
Your words forced him to open his eyes, and he easily fell into a streak of obedience, eager to please you. His eyes snapped open and he looked right at you - absolutely enamored by your pretty face.Â
âGood boy.âÂ
He let out another whimper at the praise.Â
Then, you finally lowered yourself down onto his cock, sinking down in one smooth movement until you were fully seated - tightly wrapped around his dick and resting against his bony pelvis.Â
He felt like the air had been punched out of him. That perfect, tight heat being wrapped around him - the wetness leaking out around his skin at the base of his dick, everything squeezing his cock like a vice, like you were made to fit him. It made him so dizzy, stole the air out of his lungs. It was all too perfect.Â
âOh. Oh. Oh god-â He gasped out, squirming underneath you, already intensely overwhelmed by the pleasure.Â
You grabbed his jaw in one hand and held him still for another kiss, and he moaned hotly into your mouth, desperation growing inside of him.Â
You started slowly grinding your hips into his pelvis, wanting to warm him up gently. As you pulled away from the kiss, he was panting frantically against your mouth, already overwhelmed.Â
âHey, shh.â You told him, smoothing your hands over his torso once again. âYou gonna be good for me?âÂ
âYes.â He quickly moaned in return, nodding his head eagerly.Â
This was a side of Stiles that you had so quickly grown to love. You knew that you werenât going to get enough of this - this beautiful soft obedience. Especially compared to usual sarcastic abrasiveness.Â
This was your good boy. And you were going to have such a good time training him, having him learn the rules. You were heavily looking forward to shutting down his future quips on a dime with a simple threat of keeping future orgasms from him.Â
You positioned your weight on your knees, then, and began lifting yourself off his cock halfway before you slammed your hips back down. You put your hands on either side of his head, between where his arms were stationed above him, still tangled up in the scarf and unable to move. After a moment, you built up a good, even pace - not quite gentle, but not entirely rough either.Â
You were taking it easy on him for his first time.Â
Stiles continued letting out shocked pants, sounding like a man drowning on dry land, hurriedly gasping for air. Soon, he began moaning as more wild pleasure was driven through his body from the feeling of your wet pussy gripping around his cock; from the feeling of you bouncing against his balls, from the sound of that perfect wet slap every single time you landed down on him.Â
It caused a terrible need to brew in his stomach, and he knew it wouldnât be long now.Â
All too soon, he was going to cum.Â
âPlease!â He moaned out, trying to buck his hips up to meet yours - his muscles shaking so terribly that he couldnât keep up with your pace and ended up just jostling wildly underneath you. âPlease, please!âÂ
You grinned.Â
You knew that you wouldnât cum from this, but you were deeply enjoying yourself anyway. Stiles looked so pretty - so pathetic and pretty - gritting his teeth to try and hold back his sounds (which wasnât working at all), tears rimming his eyes, a few even slipping out, his face tinging a lovely shade of pink from the exertion and the pure arousal.Â
âPlease âwhatâ, baby?âÂ
You pressed, a slight edge of mocking on your voice that punched another harsh wave of arousal through his gut. It took everything he had in those moments not to cum - to hold it back. To be good for you.Â
âCome on, sweetheart. You can say it. Just say the words-âÂ
âPlease lemme cum,â He whined out, the words practically turning into a slur on his lips - mirroring exactly the way he had been begging to a fictional you as he had pumped his cock while sitting on this very bed not too long ago. âPlease, please, please Y/N, please-âÂ
You leaned down to his ear then, whispering the words he so badly wanted to hear.Â
âCum for me, Stiles.âÂ
But this time it was so very real.Â
With your permission given, his brain fired off, finally allowing himself to let it go. He let out a guttural, almost non-human sound as he humped his hips off the bed in harsh, fast strokes while you fucked down onto him tightly, roughly grinding into him to allow him to get the most out of it. Wanting him to have the most pressure from your hot cunt in those moments while his eyes rolled back into his head and he released a thick load into the condom.Â
He was even pretty like this - his mouth wide open, his long lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks, his chest heaving as he released a concert of beautiful, whorish sounds.Â
When his hips stopped and his noises dissolved off into a more gentle panting, you leaned down to kiss him again. He most definitely deserved it.Â
âGood boy.â You mumbled against his mouth, eager to praise him. âSuch a good boy for me. You did so good.âÂ
This caused another sound from him, and you simply smiled as he began to kiss you back, eager and sloppy, smearing spit across your cheek while you reached up and began untying the knot in the scarf you had secured him with.Â
âYou want your reward now?â You asked him.Â
You couldnât lie, your cunt was thrumming at the idea of him getting between your thighs. You wondered if he would be able to make you cum. He seemed eager to please and so far, he was good at following instructions, so you could probably tell him exactly what to do to get you off. Even if he couldnât, you would certainly enjoy the view.Â
âYes, yes, please.â He moaned against your cheek, that desperation thrashing back up inside of him. âPlease, Iâve been good, please-â
âYes, you have been.â You soothed him again. âGood boy.âÂ
You released him from the binds and then finally got off him, allowing his softening cock to pop free from your pussy - something that caused him to loudly moan.Â
You took off the condom and tossed it into the waste basket that he had by his desk, the lube and cum seeping into the crumbled up, forgotten papers that he had there. When you came back to the bed, he was looking at you with wide, eager eyes, waiting for his next instruction. Such a good boy. You really loved how this was turning out.Â
âIâm gonna lay down, and then you can get between my legs. Okay, baby?âÂ
He nodded eagerly again, and hopped off the bed to give you room, nearly tripping over his own feet in doing so.Â
You fluffed up his pillow and then laid down, spreading your legs wide, and when you looked back to him, he was tracing every single inch of your body with a wide-eyed gaze. His mouth was agape once again, absolutely not hiding the fact that he was absolutely lustful for you, becoming utterly distracted by the sight of you (almost completely) naked in his bed, laid out just for him.Â
âStiles.â You called his name, garnering his attention once again. âCome on, baby.âÂ
You held out an arm, signaling for him to come over, and he eagerly climbed into the bed between your thighs.Â
You thought for sure that he would make himself comfortable down between your thighs and get right to tasting you, as eagerly as he had begged for it before, but it was his turn to surprise you now.Â
âPlease, can you-?â He cut himself off shyly, tracing a single finger along the cup of the bra that you still wore, the last scrap of clothing hiding your body from him. âCan you take it off?âÂ
That sent a thrill through you. Rather than being demanding, he was still so trepidatious - wondering if he had tread too far by asking you to remove clothing, even after you had ridden his cock.Â
Still, you couldnât help but to want to tease him - just a little bit more.Â
âYou wanna see my tits?â You asked, running your hands up your body, teasing your fingers along the edges of the bra cups as if threatening to pull them down. âYou wanna⌠play with my tits, Stiles?âÂ
âYes.â Stiles breathed out, entirely eager.Â
You could see his cock swelling back to life between his thighs already.Â
âDo you think youâve been a good enough boy for that?â You questioned, lustful eagerness in your voice.Â
His answer would entirely dictate whether or not you took the bra off.Â
He swallowed thickly, still nervous, his eyes flickering between your cleavage and your own eyes, as if looking for a hint at the answer. He waited a careful moment, and then finally spoke.Â
âYes.â He said, pausing for a moment as if waiting for you to argue the point before he continued. âYes, please, Iâve been good.âÂ
âHmmâŚâ You said, pretending to think. âAlright.âÂ
You reached up behind you, unhooking your bra and tossing it away. When your naked breasts were finally revealed to him, his tongue lolled out of his mouth in an almost puppy-like way, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he stared hungrily at the roundness of your perfect flesh.Â
This time, he didnât even ask you before he made his next move - entirely fueled by his own eagerness and desire, he swept down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. Instantly, he let out a loud moan around your tit that told you just how much he was enjoying this, something that had your pussy getting wetter as you saw the way his eyes drifted closed with bliss while he sloppily laved his tongue over your skin.Â
He was so fucking cute, so fucking pretty - so fucking perfect like this.Â
He continued like this for a few moments before he trailed a line of sloppy kisses to the other tit and began sucking on that one, feeling the need to give both beautiful girls equal attention. He licked his tongue across the skin in a fat trail that had you tingling, that had your cunt clenching. You were glad he was enjoying himself, but it was making the space between your thighs feel rather neglected.Â
âStiles, baby,â You called out, starting to sound a bit breathy from need yourself. You raked your nails gently across his scalp again, causing him to let out another moan. âYou said you were gonna eat my pussy, right? You donât wanna disappoint me - do you, baby?âÂ
He popped off your tit immediately.Â
âNot gonna disappoint you.â He said in a hurried tone, shaking his head.Â
You pulled him in for another kiss, and when you released him, he rushed down to get comfortable between your legs, which you spread even more, dropping your foot off the bed on one side to give him more room.Â
Your pussy was so gorgeous.Â
So much better than he had dreamed of - wet, gleaming, smeared in your own juices and slightly gaped from his cock. A sight that absolutely thrilled him - seeing exactly where he had been, knowing that he had fucked you, he had been inside of you.Â
The smell of your pretty cunt was something more unique than your sweat or perfume like he had originally thought. He leaned in eagerly and licked a fat, wide stripe from where you were fluttering and open all the way up to your mound, getting his first real taste of you - he let out a loud moan as it fully penetrated his senses, as everything that was you spread across his tongue for the first time.Â
You were so fucking perfect. You tasted so fucking perfect.Â
You let out a moan of your own when Stiles moaned against you again, the vibrations radiating through your sensitive core. This time, he latched into your clit, seemingly knowing that swollen bead was his ticket to success without you even having to tell him. He sucked harshly on it for a moment that made your thighs twitch and threaten to close around his head before he began digging his tongue against it, lapping at your cunt, trying to suck all the taste off it that he could.Â
âGood boy,â You moaned, reaching out and cradling the back of his head (not having much hair to grab onto with the short buzzcut that he had) - keeping him tight against your pussy, not that he seemed intent to pull away any time soon. âSuch a good boy. Good boy for me!âÂ
He wasnât particularly skilled - it was obvious from a mile away that he didnât have any experience, but fuck, he more than made up for it with his pure eagerness. He was eating your pussy like it was his last meal, moaning against you like he was getting more pleasure from this than you were - and hell, maybe he was.Â
He didnât back off or complain when you instinctively bucked your hips against his face. In fact, he seemed to take it in stride, downright enjoying the way your warm juices were smeared across his cheeks and chin, his eyes shut in bliss as he tongued openly across your cunt, his drool mixing with your wetness while he moaned against you.Â
âOh, fuck! Stiles!âÂ
He moaned harder at the sound of his own name on your lips, so beautifully pornographic, better than he had dreamed it would be - even when he had imagined it so many times over and over again. Somehow, even when you thought he might not get you there at all, his eager performance and the vibrations from his moans against your clit had you so close already.Â
âGot me so close, baby,â You moaned, scratching the back of his head. âSuch a good boy, so close-âÂ
He moaned in response and tongued more vigorously at your clit, and you worked your hips against him, practically riding his face in order to bring yourself over the edge.Â
âFuck! Stiles!âÂ
You let out a throaty moan as you came, beautiful pleasure surging through your body while your back arched against the bed. Inadvertently shoving your hips even closer to his face, making him even more beautifully messy while he sucked and licked you. He loved the feeling of your body twitching and seizing underneath him, he loved hearing your gorgeous moans, he loved knowing that he had made you cum.Â
He lowered his face down and shoved his tongue inside you, determined to drink right from the source then, his nose bumping against your now orgasm-sensitive clit unintentionally, making you shout loudly. This further smothered him in your essence in a way that he loved, while he shoved his tongue inside of you as far as he possibly could, absolutely loving the way your pussy fluttered around him, the way your taste overwhelmed his senses, the pure heat smothering his face.Â
âBaby, baby-âÂ
You gasped and struggled for air, knowing that he wasnât overstimulating you on purpose - he was just eager. And that thought alone was so overwhelmingly hot to you that you almost let him continue. But your clit thrummed with an ache of protest, and you knew that you couldnât spoil him this much, this soon. You couldnât handle having a spoiled brat on your hands.Â
âBaby, you have to come up now!â You ordered sharply, digging your nails into his shoulder as a warning, adding a tiny bite of pain to fully get his attention.Â
Stiles let out a tiny whine of disappointment, but did as he was told, finally unlatching himself from your cunt. This move made a sinfully wet sound as he pushed himself up with his hands to sit between your thighs on his knees. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his once again hard, throbbing pink cock smearing precum against his stomach.Â
You had a passing thought about telling him to grab another condom, but again - you didnât need to spoil him so soon.Â
You had another idea instead.Â
âOh baby,â You cooed, reaching out and loosely gripping his cock, causing him to let out a shuddering moan and buck into your hand furiously - which didnât give him much sensation, only teased him more. âYou got really excited from that, didnât you?âÂ
He nodded vigorously, his mind completely mush at this point, too weak to form words.Â
âDo you wanna get off against my thigh?â You purred, gently stroking your knuckles across his temple - feeling a wicked kind of joy in seeing his face smeared in your wetness, especially when paired with the dumb, glossy look in his eyes.Â
He almost dared to ask for more - wanting to fuck you again, to put his cock between your tits and fuck them - but he had a feeling that you wouldnât let him get away with it. And he wanted to be your good boy so badly. So he was willing to take whatever you had to give him.Â
âYes.â He croaked out, his voice slightly hoarse now from all the moaning. âYes, please.âÂ
âGood boy.â You grinned at him. âCome on.âÂ
You moved your leg - already slightly stiff from how long he had been between them, stretched around his shoulders - and slotted your thigh between his. You raised it up slightly, gently propping the broadness of your flesh against his aching balls and his hard, leaking cock.Â
âWait, I want-âÂ
He looked around for a moment, and then grabbed up the bottle of lube where it had falling on the floor from the vigor of your fucking. He poured a good deal of it (almost emptying it) over his cock, letting it leak down over your thigh, before he capped it and threw it away again.Â
You smiled.Â
âYou really do like it wet, donât you?âÂ
He simply nodded, and began moving his hips. Instinctively, you reached out and grabbed him, taking a commanding hold on those narrow hips to guide him. He easily fell under your control, letting you guide his pace - which meant he moved in slow, languid, sloppy, wet (thanks to the lube) movements across your thigh - his cock dragging against your skin in a way that was delicious, but almost not enough at the same time.Â
He began letting out whimpers, his face twisting with pleasure and the need for something more as his gut curled with a distinctive ache. As if sensing this, even unconsciously, you couldnât help your mouth.Â
âYou look so pretty like this,â You told him, hot and breathy.Â
Turns out - that was the something âmoreâ he so desperately needed. Hearing you call him âprettyâ would have been an insult on any other day, but today, it was downright delicious. Your voice curling around the word, directed at him - it felt like something he had been waiting to hear his whole life.Â
âI love seeing you get off against my thigh, rubbing your pretty cock against me,âÂ
Stiles let out a moan and you felt him fighting to move faster, so you encouraged it, pushing and pulling his hips faster, causing more delicious friction on his cock.Â
âPlease, please-â He gasped.Â
You knew it wouldnât take much more.Â
âYou know, Iâve probably been waiting for this just as long as you have,â You whispered lowly in his ear, finally confessing your secret. âIâve been watching you every single day, seeing how wonderful and dumb you are when you stare at me for hours, thinking I donât notice. And Iâve just been waiting to pin you up against something and fuck your pretty little brains out-âÂ
Your words were cut off by him crying out, a wet splash against your thigh that had alerted you to him cumming. This was almost pathetic, just a few spurts of cum before it was over (you guessed that with how often he jerked off and from the fucking earlier, you had practically drained his balls). It made you curious if forcing him to abstain from masturbation for a few days would yield more impressive results.Â
An experiment for later, you guessed.Â
âGood boy.âÂ
You pulled him into another kiss, ultimately satisfied by the end result of your plan - leaving your panties on your bed as bait for Stiles to find as a way to gently tip him off to your attraction to him. It had worked out in the very best way. Even if you had to wait more than a week for the wheels to truly set in motion.Â
âŚÂ
After a joint shower (which was filled with Stiles grinning at you, clearly soaking up the beauty of his luck in landing someone as gorgeous as you) - you changed the sheets on the bed while he made something to eat, and after the two of you ate together, you tucked him in to go to sleep.Â
He was disappointed that you couldnât stay the night, just as excited to do other non sexual things with you like wake up in your arms and hold your hand in the hallways at school - but you did have to get home before your curfew. Just as he was dosing off, you kissed him on the forehead, and you thought of something delightfully naughty for him to wake up to, even if you couldnât be there.Â
You took off the underwear that you were wearing - a pair of lacy blue ones, to match your bra - and you pinned them up on his corkboard for him to find in the morning.Â
A perfect little present for your good boy.
âŚÂ
The next morning, Stiles woke up to a knock on his bedroom door.Â
âOkay, rise n shine, kid, time for-âÂ
His fatherâs voice cut off abruptly, and Stiles didnât have time to ponder why before-
âDear god, what the hell is that?âÂ
Stiles shot up out of bed, practically falling on the floor, wondering what it could be - monster, werewolf, hunter, someone with a gun-
His eyes landed exactly where his dad was looking, and he was relieved not to find danger, and then terribly embarrassed to see your underwear from the day before pinned to his corkboard, spread out in plain view. Stiles immediately went into damage control mode.Â
âLook, Dad, I can explain-âÂ
âYou know what? I donât wanna know.â His dad said firmly, making a motion with his hand that said he was brushing away the subject. âJust - get ready for school.âÂ
His dad moved to leave the room, and then he sighed and paused in the doorway, turning back to Stiles in a way that made his gut churn.Â
âJust - did you use protection?âÂ
Stiles almost offered to show his father the used condom that was still sitting in the trash can - even if only as proof that the night before he had a real, living girl in his room. But he figured that would be going too far.Â
âYes.â He answered, calm and short.Â
His dad nodded, and moved to leave again. He made it a bit further down the hallway this time before he turned around and appeared in the doorway again.Â
âSon - you know, women arenât objects, you canât claim them like sexual conquests, and they deserve respect-âÂ
âDad.â Stiles sharply cut off whatever speech his father was about to give, wanting his father to know that he hadnât pinned the underwear to the corkboard himself. He wasnât some fratboy who celebrated getting laid with a fucking trophy.Â
âShe - she gave them to me.â He said. âShe did that.â He motioned to the underwear, and his fatherâs face shifted from anger to deep discomfort.Â
âOh.â He said simply. âWell - I - okay. I donât wanna know any more.â He said firmly. âAnd for godâs sake, son, take them down.âÂ
Stiles nodded, rushing to do so.Â
He was going to take them down - but he wasnât rushing to give them back to you anytime soon.
...
Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and this has a distinct, intentional ending. There will NOT be a continuation or a 'Part 3'. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging it to show your appreciation, or commenting on this fic, or you can take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for more of my fics from this fandom.
However, please do not comment on this fic asking for another sequel or asking for more - I generally consider that stressful and impolite. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.
If you enjoyed this fic, please consider checking out my other fics about the criminally underrated character Isaac. Fics similar to this one are: Eager Little Puppy and Why Am I The One?
Or if you want more fics about subby boys, consider checking out Tongue Twister, Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop), or Lessons For A Genius.
Happy reading!! -Sunny <3
#interactions#sundrop speaks#fic comments#star squared#stiles stilinski x reader#teen wolf fanfiction
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Festive Frustration
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}{Five Days of Fluffmas}
{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} When a chaotic Mikaelson Christmas party threatens Elijahâs carefully curated elegance, itâs up to you to remind him that some messes are worth embracing.
âĄâĄHappy FluffmasâĄâĄ
839 words - Warnings: flufffff, holiday party chaos, frustrated Elijah, spiked drinks, Klaus-induced pandemonium && soft dances under twinkling lights...
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@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming
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@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka
You could tell Elijah was upset. His jaw was tight, and he kept flicking his cufflinks, a sure sign that he was done with the chaos around him. The Mikaelson Christmas party, which started as a refined and intimate event, had spiraled into something else entirely.
The decorations, once perfect, were either being knocked over or trampled on. The music had gone from Christmas classics to the tasteless modern ones you knew he disliked. To top it all off, someone had spilled wine on the rug, and Elijahâs patience was hanging on by a thread.
He stood by the Christmas tree, his shoulders stiff, glaring at a woman who nearly knocked over a tray of glasses.
You sighed, knowing you couldnât let him stew in his frustration all night. He needed a drink and a distraction. Preferably one that involved you.
Grabbing a glass of whiskey from the bar, you wove through the crowd toward him. His face softened slightly when he saw you, though his frustration was still obvious.
âHello, my love,â he greeted, his voice warm but strained.
âI thought you might need this,â you said, handing him the glass.
He took it, downing the drink in one go. You winced as his grip tightened around the glass, wondering if heâd accidentally shatter it.
âThank you,â he murmured, setting the empty glass on a nearby table and running a hand through his hair.
You glanced around the room. The noise was deafening, and the elegant ambiance Elijah had worked so hard to create was long gone. âThis isnât quite what you had in mind, huh?â
Elijahâs lips twitched, though it wasnât quite a smile. âItâs mayhem,â he muttered. His eyes followed Kol, who was enthusiastically encouraging two guests to drink from the now-spiked punch bowl.
âItâs not that bad,â you said, trying to sound optimistic. âAt least people are having fun.â
âIf this is your idea of fun, I fear we have very different definitions of the word,â he replied dryly.
You laughed softly, but before you could respond, a loud burst of laughter and squeals erupted from the dance floor. Both of you turned toward the commotion to see Klaus spinning two blondes in opposite directions while a third clung to him, laughing uncontrollably.
Klaus was in his element, his face lit with mischief as he orchestrated the chaos. The women stumbled, colliding into other dancers, who then spilled their drinks, creating even more pandemonium.
âOf course,â Elijah muttered under his breath.
One of the blondes, clearly emboldened by alcohol, attempted to climb onto Klausâs back. He caught her effortlessly, grinning like the devil himself as he twirled her around, nearly taking out a nearby couple.
You couldnât help but laugh at the absurdity of it. âHeâs having a great time.â
âAt my expense,â Elijah muttered.
The music changed to an obnoxiously loud dance remix of Jingle Bells and Klaus raised his arms triumphantly, shouting, âNow this is a party!â The room erupted in cheers, as though Klaus himself had blessed the event.
Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose. âI cannot believe I share blood with that man.â
âCome on,â you said, tugging on Elijahâs sleeve. âYou canât let Klaus have all the fun.â
Elijah hesitated, glancing at the crowded dance floor, then back at you. âIâm not sure thatâs the solution.â
âIt is,â you insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the crowd.
Reluctantly, he followed. His hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth of his touch made your cheeks warm, and you smiled up at him as you began to sway.
âI donât recall half these people being on the guest list,â he muttered, his gaze scanning the room.
You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. âRebekah mightâve invited... a few extras.â
His brow furrowed. âThis was supposed to be a refined event, not-â
âA disaster?â you teased.
Elijah sighed, though his lips curved into a small smile. âSomething like that.â
âI think Kol has spiked more than just the eggnog,â you added, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice.
Elijah scoffed. âOf course he did.â
You rested your head against his chest, trying to soothe him. âItâs okay, Elijah. You canât control everything. You did a great job planning this.â
He didnât respond immediately, but you felt the tension in his shoulders begin to ease and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.
âYou always know how to calm me,â he murmured, his voice low and warm.
You smiled, looking up at him. âItâs a talent.â
As the two of you swayed under the twinkling lights, the chaos of the party seemed to fade into the background. For a moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in each otherâs arms.
âThank you,â Elijah said, his dark eyes meeting yours. âFor reminding me what truly matters.â
You grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek. âMerry Christmas, Elijah.â
And just like that, the party didnât feel like a disaster anymore.
#elijah mikaelson#the originals#the vampire diaries#tvdu#tvd#kol mikaelson#klaus mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikaelson x reader#lissas fluffmas#Elijah Mikaelson fanfiction#five days of fluffmas#christmas#fluff
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