#the two girls i asked if the seat was taken said that it was (even though the seats ended up not occupied)

[bookshelf-in-progress]

A Feast in the Lanternwood: A Short Story

The man entered just as the feast began. My grandfather’s Gathering Hall--ringing with the voices and laughter of every resident of our Lanternwood village--fell silent when he stepped through the great doors.

He was a stranger--everyone in the village had known each other all their lives.

He was a foreigner--tall and lithe, with skin pale as milk and hair like weak winter sunshine.

He was clad in a thick gray cloak--the unmistakable uniform of the enemy.

My grandfather, seated at the head of the high table, stood. "Stranger of Nordan, why do you invade a peaceful hall?"

The stranger stepped into the room with hands outstretched and empty. "I bring no war." His steps were slow, his face drawn. "I come as a weary traveler who has wandered this forest for five days without food. I beg only a mouthful of bread, so I may return to my homeland in peace."

He bent low beneath the weight of his pack. He had dark circles under sunken eyes. But he had a sword at his side.

Though I was only four years old, I knew enough of the war to fear the stranger. The Nordans were soldiers from a cold land who had come in war against our nation, even to the very edges of the Lanternwood. They were the monsters in my bedtime tales--heartless monsters who laughed while they killed, shadows who came into villages and stole away naughty little girls to eat for supper. Every family in the village had lost sons to Nordan blades; news of the war’s end had reached us barely two weeks before.

I hid beneath the table. Grandfather emerged from behind his.

"You are alone," Grandfather said, "and you dare to come into a hall of Lanternwood men and demand food?"

"I ask for mercy for a man who is weary after a war he did not choose."

Grandfather paced before him, his thick form looming over the stranger despite the fact that Grandfather was half a head shorter.

Grandfather stopped suddenly, his hand on his sword. "How did you get past the dogs?"

Our Great Hounds were the protectors of the village, beloved by all. If this man had slain them, there would be no mercy.

The stranger whistled two soft notes. All three of the Great Hounds, their heads looming far over his, appeared in the doorway behind him, wagging their tails like puppies.

The hall stood thunderstruck. For a stranger to have such power over the Great Hounds—it seemed almost mystical, both wondrous and terrifying.

Grandfather was the first to move, clasping the stranger's thin hands beneath his thick ones. "No man with ill intent could charm a woodland hound. Come and eat with welcome."

Grandfather led the man to a small table in a shadowed corner--which was immediately vacated by five terrified villagers. Grandfather ordered a plate be filled for him. Caught between respect for Grandfather's authority and terror at the stranger, the order was obeyed immediately.

The man started eating. At Grandfather's orders, every person turned their attention back to the feast and tried to forget that the stranger was there.

I crawled out from under my table and returned to my dinner, but found little joy in it. With a monster in the corner, my food had no taste.

Worst of all, while I'd hidden under the table, my cousins had eaten all of the rezzah--the delicate cookies filled with redberry jam that I had waited an entire year for.

Before long, this last horror overshadowed the first. I had been a good girl! I had waited endless months for this once-a-year treat. I had not taken so much as a nibble while Grandmother baked hundreds upon hundreds of them and told me to save them for the feast. Now I was to have not even a crumb!

Indignant, I searched the other tables, to no avail. I was not the only one who loved rezzah—they lasted mere minutes on the dessert platters. No one had saved me any.

At last, carried away by my search, I looked into the shadowed corner and saw the stranger’s table. In the very center of it, inches away from his lone plate, sat a plate piled high with rezzah. There must have been at least twenty. No, a million! And the Nordan would get to eat them all!

My sense of justice could not condone this. I deserved the cookies far more than that monster did, even if Grandfather and the dogs let him stay. It was my duty, as a daughter of the Lanternwood, to claim as many cookies as I could.

I feared the stranger, but desperation gave me courage. I was small for my age. I could sneak through the shadows and take a handful of cookies before the monster noticed me.

The first part of my plan went perfectly. I stepped silently up to the table, and the stranger didn’t even take his eyes from his plate.

I reached for the platter—and my plan fell apart. I was toosmall to reach the cookies. I stood on my tiptoes, stretched as far as I could, but my fingertips barely brushed the edge of the platter.

Suddenly, something grabbed me beneath the arms and lifted. In a flash, I was on the Nordan’s lap. I was too terrified to scream.

The Nordan smiled at me and held one arm around my waist while he offered me two rezzah with his other hand. “Hungry?”

Was he trying to fatten me up? While I stared at the cookies in his hand, I grabbed one from the platter and took a bite. I wouldn’t take anything from a Nordan, but I wasn’t going to lose my chance at rezzah.

The stranger chuckled. “I have a little girl like you at home.”

The cookie crumbled in my fist. The stories were true! He did steal children! I pictured this other little girl, my exact double, hidden away in some icy cavern waiting to be eaten for supper.

He flicked the end of my braid with his finger. “Of course, my daughter has yellow hair, not brown. But she’s about your age, and she loves sweets.”

His voice was soft—almost sweet. I looked into his face in surprise. His smile didn’t show any sharp teeth. His eyes were blue and seemed almost as kind as Grandfather’s. Maybe he was a father to some other little girl. Maybe he wasn’t going to eat me.

These new revelations didn’t change my priorities. I grabbed another cookie. “She can’t have these.”

He laughed. “No. They wouldn’t last. I’ve a long way to travel yet.”

“To the ice lands,” I said, showing off my knowledge.

“No ice this time of year,” the man said. “I hope to return home before the first snow. Spend a few days in the upper village before we move underground for the winter.”

I had seen plenty of animal dens in the Lanternwood. “Like bears.”

“A little,” he said with a laugh. “But we don’t sleep in caves. We’ve a whole city underground, lit by sunstones. We spend the winter wide awake—working, weaving, dancing, singing, storytelling.”

His voice became low and musical, enchanting me as it had charmed the hounds. He told me of his home, a far-northern land where the summers were short but beautiful, where winter froze waterfalls into pillars of light, where crops grew all winter beneath underground lights while people spent their time in an eternal festival, sharing music and poetry and planning great works for the new year.

I learned about his little girl, who had a white puppy who slept in a basket by her bed, and would one day grow into a Great Hound loyal only to her.

As he spoke of his daughter, the stranger showed me a small wooden flute, carved into a shape like a bird. “I made this for her,” he said. He played a liquid trill of notes that made the Hounds outside the great doors perk up their ears.

Unthinking, I reached for the flute. I had never been so enchanted by sound, and I wanted to keep it forever with me.

“Do you play?” he asked.

I did not, but wanted nothing more than to learn.

Seeing my enthusiasm, the stranger showed me how to hold the flute, and soon I could play a short sequence of notes.

Once I did, the stranger reached into his pack and pulled out a larger instrument—a beautiful pipe, all gleaming curves and shining levers. “Shall we have a duet?” he asked.

At that, Grandfather approached the table—he had never been far away, I learned. He came up to the stranger and said, “I’ve heard it said your people have music in your veins.”

“We enjoy a good tune.”

Grandfather gestured to the wider hall, which was already being cleared for a dance. “Would you play for us?”

The man’s eyes lit up with joy. He followed Grandfather to where the main table had been cleared away to make space for a stage, and then he began to play.

His song soared through the room, lively and bright. Keeping time with one foot, his song became a tune that no one could help but dance to. People were drawn from all corners of the room, set to stepping and spinning with joyful abandon.

The Lanternwood had not heard music like that before or since. The stranger played song after song—lively, bouncing, silly, sweet, slow. Other members of the village brought out their own instruments and joined in the songs—he quickly learned ours, and they learned some of his. His strange looks, the color of his cloak—all was forgotten in the glory of his music.

I danced and danced and danced that night, lost in ecstasy. I whirled with groups of children, was taken up into the arms of aunts and uncles who spun me around. I even learned a partner dance, standing on my grandfather’s feet. Yet my eyes were always drawn back to the stranger, whose joy in the music surpassed even my own.

As the night dragged on, the hall grew darker, and the songs became slow. I drifted away from the dance floor, sank to the floor, and fell asleep on the stranger’s gray cloak.

#

I woke up in the early light of dawn, tucked up in a bed with five other cousins. I could hear the sounds of the party being cleared away, and I rushed out of the room in a panic, afraid the stranger had left.

Tall as he was, I easily found him standing just outside the hall, his pack on his shoulder, speaking to Grandfather.

I sprinted to the stranger and threw my arms around his legs. “Don’t go!”

Grandfather apologized, “I’m sorry. Ever since her father’s death--”

The stranger stopped him by lifting me up and holding me on his hip. “I’m glad of your friendship, little one. But I must return home.”

“Can’t you stay longer?”

He shook his head. “I have a little girl waiting for me, remember?”

She had a daddy coming home, and I didn’t, because of the gray-cloaked soldiers. But this man, in my mind, had never been one of those monsters.

Tears dripped down my face. The stranger dried them with the edge of his cloak. “Now, little one, don’t cry. We have our own paths to travel, and perhaps they shall cross again someday.”

He reached into his bag and pulled out the little bird flute that had so enchanted me, that had won him a place in my heart. “Keep this to remember me by,” he said. “My little girl can have another, and you have your own songs to play.”

I took it in tears—so filled with joy and sorrow that I couldn’t tell one from the other. At last, I let myself be taken up in Grandfather’s arms, and the stranger—with a final farewell and thanks for the provisions Grandfather had given—walked away down the forest road. I watched and watched until the stranger—that monster turned friend—disappeared from sight.

I never saw him again.

I hope with all my heart he made it home.

[miercolaes]

fancy tags are making me sad so as of rn, everything will be simpler. i just want to write and for some reason i always create smth that just's sucking the enjoyment with a biodegradable straw. until i find smth easier to tag that doesn't make the brain juice sad, i'll only tag the user.

[indecisivemuch]

Look at me

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Being oblivious to Luke’s feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song ‘Boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron ~ “I could be a better boyfriend than him.” (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)

Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)

Note: I’m sorry if there are a lot of errors, I haven’t had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.

Word count: 4.8k

“People say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,” you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybody’s surprise when something else occurred.

It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.

It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach. 

It didn’t help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine. 

Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Cole’s backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better. 

You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, he’d never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.

One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriend’s arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke. 

Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside. 

Luke’s jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.

For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Luke’s. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession. 

Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Luke’s eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.

Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Luke’s chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy. 

Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Luke’s lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.

Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call? 

The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing. 

Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.

“Hey, man,” when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, you lifted your head from Luke’s chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. “I’ll take over from here,” Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Cole’s chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded…too calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.

You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you. 

Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.

You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. “All right, we’re done for the night, don’t you think?” your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before. 

Yet, he was not there anymore.

~~~

Your cabin was not on the same side as Luke’s cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the person’s neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..

“Luke!” you called out, watching as Luke’s action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Luke’s momentary distraction to land a hit on Luke’s face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.

“Hey, knock it off,” you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didn’t. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Cole’s friends next to him, who promptly told the man:

“It was him. Luke initiated the fight.” 

~~~

Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Luke’s hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him. 

You deserved better. 

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.

“Devon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?” Luke frowned at the mention of Cole’s friend. Great, now he knew another idiot’s name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first. 

“No, but what’s the point of telling Chiron that? It’s two against one,” he breathed out.

“Luke, you’re literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,” you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.

Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book. 

“Why are you with him?” and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two. 

“I know you, which is why I know that you’re absolutely miserable with him, so I don’t understand why you’re still with Cole,” Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.

“Y/N, please, as your best friend…” there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. “...You deserve better,” he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.

“Luke…” you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this. 

His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. That’s how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset. 

“Y/N, does he make you happy?” you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.

“Oh, this is who you left me to talk to?” Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. “The person who beat your boyfriend?” Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick “Unbelievable,” before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.

“Uhm, what are you waiting for?” Annabeth’s voice broke Luke from his irritated state. “Go after her,” the young girl nudged.

“I doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.”

“Yes, but you need to go after her before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late.”

“No, it’s not,” the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.

“Stop it, Cole. I don’t want to…” Your voice grabbed Luke’s attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.

“Come on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,” Cole replied. 

When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip. 

“I said ‘let go,’ Cole,” you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Cole’s cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.

Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, “Gods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, you’re such a whore, you know that?” If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Cole’ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face. 

“Cole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.” Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Let’s go, this is not worth it,” you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.

“Man, you’re more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? You’re fucking difficult and clingy, that’s why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.” Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.

“You fucking bitch!” Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this.”

“Oh yeah? Come on!” you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. “I’ll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,” right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.

“If you know any better, then leave, Cole. And don’t come near any of us again, or I promise you…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Cole’s imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Luke’s face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.

You turned around and inspected Luke’s hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.

The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.

“Are you okay?” His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You haven’t seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.

“Am I okay? You’re the one with the bleeding hand.”

“You punched him quite hard.”

“He deserved it,” you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed. 

“You know I had that handled, right?” you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,” you tried joking.

“No, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasn’t defending your honor,” he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be: 

“I was defending the girl I’m in love with.”

You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always “looked” at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.

“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too. 

“So….Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. So…why? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?”

“Luke…” you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?

“I love you,” he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think he’d say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.

“Luke, I never knew,” Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.

He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what. 

"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.

“I never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didn’t know you felt this way, too. In fact,” you dryly chuckled. “I was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.” Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings. 

“I thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?” he asked.

“What moves?”

“Uhm—the physical contact?”

“I thought you were just touchy.”

“I walked you back to your cabin every night!”

“Well, I thought it was just a best friend thing?”

“The first thing I do after every quest is search for you, you’re always the first one I want to see.”

“I really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.” He groaned at all of your responses.

“But do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every round…if I knew you were up for it.” He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didn’t think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmary’s bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.

“Can I kiss you?” He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.

“Kiss me, Luke.”

And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.

You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy. 

“I wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like I’ve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I can’t wait anymore,” he whispered before whimpering against your lips, “please be mine.”

He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.

“That was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and I’ll give you an answer,” he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.

“Will you be mine, sunshine?”

“Yes, Luke. As long as you’re mine too.”

“I have always been yours.”

——————————

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[ldrfanatic]

Oh Bella

Italian!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

synopsis - 3 times the reader teases Theo’s Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them

cute, lazy fluff, no angst just happy vibes for a happy christmas :)

slytherin boys masterlist navigation

warning - internet translated Italian

(got these ideas from Ben and Fabio on instagram they’re so funny)

It wasn’t easy to date Theodore Nott. It was always rewarding but it wasn’t always easy.

For starters, Theo grew up in Italy and has one of the thickest Italian accents you’ve ever heard. There were a few times over the course of your relationship that you had to ask him to repeat himself a few times. Like when he was trying to tell you that Draco had invited you out on a double date with himself and Hermione.

You had just woken up from a nap when Theo walked into the Slytherin common room after quidditch practice. He flashed you a breath taking smile and all but skipped up to you as you rubbed your tired eyes. You felt your heart melting in your chest at the sight of your adorable boyfriend.

“Buongiorno Bella.” (good morning beautiful) Theo swooped down and delivered a soft kiss to the side of your face before plopping down next to you on the couch. “Guess what?” You hummed in response as you snuggled deep into his side.

“What’s up Theo?”

“At quidditch practice today, Draco says that you and I, we can go out double with them.”

In your tired brain, Theo’s words made even less sense. You sat up from his side and stared at him with your brows furrowed. “Huh?” Theo stared blankly back at you. He brushed a piece of your hair away from your face.

“Still asleep, Bella?”

You shook your head lightly but it didn’t convince either of you entirely. A chuckle rumbled through Theo and his chest vibrated in laughter.

“Draco says we can go double out with Herminone.”

Now it was your turn to laugh at the way Theo pronounced Hermione’s name. You’d all been friends for about two years now since she and Draco had started dating, but he still couldn’t quite pronounce her name correctly.

Finally deciphering his thick accent and slightly broken, but still cute English, realization dawned upon you. You tried to smother a smile as you stared at your boyfriend in pure adoration. “You mean he invited us to double date with them?”

Theo looked at you for a few seconds before standing up and sighing a little dramatically.

“Mio dio Bella, that’s what I said”

“Mmm of course, Theo.”

So, dating Theodore Nott was not without its challenges. But it also wasn’t without its fun.

1.

It was Mattheo’s birthday so of course the Slytherin common room was filled to the brim with drugs, alcohol, and probably the sluttiest girls in all of Hogwarts. Theo was sitting at a table off in the corner with both of your guys’ drinks and was noticeably uncomfortable in such an environment.

You’d gone to get ice for your sex on the beach when you had a mischevious idea. You scooped a little more ice into the cup and started making your way back to Theo.

You caught sight of Mattheo what was sitting on one of the large couches dead center in the room. He had three girls all over him right now and Lorenzo was giggling uncontrollably as he passed him a joint. Mattheo caught your eye and winked playfully. He liked to flirt with you to rile Theo up a little bit every once in a while.

You finally made it back to your table where Theo was swirling a deep red wine in a glass. His lips quirked up in a small smile as you took your seat next to him. Without speaking, he reached out and pulled your chair impossibly closer to his before throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Ciao Bella.”

Your entire body bloomed at the sound of his thick accent over his husky voice. Warmth settled over you like a fluffy blanket on a snowy morning.

“Ciao Theo.”

The surprise on Theo’s face was more than enough to make you happy that you’d taken up Italian recently. You practiced with Lorenzo in some of your free time and he was a pretty good teacher. You made eye contact with Theo and winked before settling into his side.

Theo immediately became suspicious as you were known for your antics.

“What are you up to Il mio piccolo piantagrane, hm?” (my little troublemaker)

“Nothing Theo, relax.”

He stared at you suspiciously for a few seconds before his body finally loosened.

The opportunity was too great to miss.

You leaned over both of your drinks and dumped ice into your sex on the beach before then dropping a few ice cubes into Theo’s wine.

His reaction was nearly instantaneous.

“Oh! Bella, no! No, no, no!” His lips turned up in disgust and multiple muted expressions left his mouth in what you assumed were Italian swears.

“Che diavolo? Ghiaccio nel vino? No! Il vino è sacro.”

(what the hell? ice in wine? no! wine is sacred.)

A large hand came and ran through his messy curls and the laugh you’d been surprising burst suddenly from your chest. Theo’s eyes snapped to yours and you recognized the mischievous glint.

A squeal left your mouth as you leapt up from your seat and took off around the common room with him hot on your tail.

2.

The second time that you decided to make your poor sweet Italian boyfriend question all decisions to be with you was at dinner one night. You weren’t intentionally teasing him at first as you stared down at your empty plate trying to think of what you wanted.

You glanced over to Theo’s plate next to you and saw a mouthwatering pasta that he’d conjured. You tugged gently on the sleeve of his green sweater and his attention found yours immediately.

“What’s wrong, bellissima?”

“Can you get me some of that, please Theo?”

“Of course.”

He took your plate in his hands and after a few seconds his dish was sitting in front of you. You noted how he made sure there were no tomatoes in yours like there were in his. Theo knew you hated tomatoes. It was so sweet it almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do to his little Italian heart.

Almost.

Theo picked up his fork and started to dig into his food before he stopped abruptly. Lorenzo too stopped eating his own food and the pair stared at you incredulously as you shoveled the pasta into your mouth.

“Oh Bella.”

He seemed more horrified than anything else. You loaded more food into your mouth being careful to eat as much as a lady as you could.

“No.” You stared at him blankly with a sheepish look before resuming your meal. “Bella, no. Twirl. Like this,” Theo picked up his fork and expertly swirled the noodles around before bringing it up to his mouth.

You offered him a gentle grin before promptly resuming what you were doing before. From across the table Lorenzo started whisper screaming at Theo in Italian.

“Theo, Cosa c'è che non va nella tua ragazza? Lei mangia la pasta come una bambina!” (what’s wrong with your girlfriend? she eats pasta like a child!)

Theo stared at you astounded as redness crept up his face. Then it finally dawned on him that you were teasing.

“Bella per favoreee.” He dragged out his words with a small smile on his face at your teasing. You both knew that you knew the proper way to eat pasta.

“No more teasing love.” You nodded through your giggles and Theo wrapped a thick arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

3.

So, you knew that you promised Theo no more teasing last week but when you overheard him and Lorenzo complaining earlier in the most adorable stuttered English you couldn’t help yourself. You were walking down towards the common room to get lunch with the boys.

Theo, Lorenzo, and Mattheo were sitting in the common room all having a discussion. Suddenly you heard your boyfriend’s sweet Italian symphony of a voice shift into one of astonishment. You peeked around the corner and saw both him and Lorenzo staring at Mattheo like he’d just said the most offensive thing ever.

“What do you mean you have the cappuccino in the afternoon, huh?” His fingers came to rub at his temples and you had to stifle your laugh behind your hand. “Puah! cappuccino è solo per la mattina.” (Cappuccino is only for the morning).

Mattheo stared blankly at the two. Finally you decided to step in before the vein in Theo’s forehead burst.

“Theo? I’m ready.”

By the time that you made it to the Great Hall, the boys seemed to have forgotten about their earlier conversation. Mattheo walked quietly in step next to you while Theo and Lorenzo conversed in Italian so quickly your head was spinning.

“Psst. Y/n I have an idea on how to make that little Italian boy of yours blow a fuse.”

(“Maledizione Lorenzo, non credi che se sapessi cosa regalarle non andrei fuori di testa?”)

You cursed yourself that you couldn’t understand what they were saying. After staring at the side of Theo’s handsome face for a few moments longer you let out a disgruntled noise and turned to Mattheo.

“Fine! What?”

And that was how you found yourself in this situation.

Trying your absolute hardest to keep a straight face without looking at Theo at all while you sipped on your cappuccino that you’d conjured in your cup.

“Oh Bella.”

Theo’s familiar distressed tone rang out from next to you. “You cannot be series, amore mio.”

“Do you mean serious, Theo?” Mattheo chimed in with an amused smirk.

Theo made a dismissive Italian noise and waved Mattheo off. He swore under his breath before grabbing the side of your face and turning it to him. “Bellissima, it is too late for a cappuccino!”

You smirked up at your distraught boyfriend and pressed a quick kiss to the softness of his cheek. “I know, amore.”

Theo stared at you before throwing his hands up in the air and turning back towards his lunch. Mattheo’s deep laugh burst out and you couldn’t help yourself but to laugh along with him.

You were so busy laughing you hadn’t noticed that Theo was staring at you with a smile. He was so very in love with you.

+ one time you celebrated Theo’s Italian roots

April 25th was meant to be celebratory. La Festa della Resistenza. And Theodore Nott was stuck at quidditch practice.

Meanwhile, you were scurrying around the common room with Lorenzo trying to set up the perfect surprise for Theo. With Italy’s Liberation Day approaching, you’d noticed Theo had been a little down lately. You knew that it was because he was missing his family.

Normally, his mother would prepare a big feast and the family would sing the song of the resistance, Bella Ciao. You’d taken a floo to his home in Italy and gotten some recipes from his mother directly, all his favorites. And now, you were trying desperately to teach a group of first year Slytherins how to sing the song that you’d been practicing for weeks.

You sighed deeply as you realized the little buggers you bribed with a few galleons each were not at all going to get the song down in time. You conjured your purse and shelled out a few galleons to each child before shooing them out of the common room.

By the time Theo got back from quidditch practice, everything was perfect. You were standing in the center of the room in a deep red dress that you knew was his favorite. When he saw the spread, Theo thought his heart might stop. You looked nothing short of stunning.

“Oh Bella.”

It didn’t hold any of the distress that it normally did. This time his tone was thick with adoration. Theo felt a lump moving up his throat that caught tears behind his eyes. His heart clenched in his chest. This was one of the most thoughtful things that anyone had ever done for him.

Just when he was certain you couldn’t get anymore perfect, your sweet voice rang out in an impossibly beautiful symphony that rivaled Pavarotti.

“Una mattina mi sono alzato

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

Una mattina mi sono alzato

E ho trovato l'invasor.”

Theo held you closer to his chest and pressed his forehead against yours as he joined for the next verse.

“O partigiano, portami via

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

O partigiano, portami via

Che mi sento di morir.”

The two of you swayed as Lorenzo joined and the three of you sang the rest of the song together. When you finished, you all made plates and sat down in the common room.

“When did you learn all of this, Bella?”

You smiled gently at Theo while he stared at you like you were the most perfect being in the world.

“I took a trip to Italy to see your mother a little bit ago. She told me about La Festa della Resistenza the Celebration of the Resistance. She talked about how important it was to Italy’s history and that it marked the Resistance victory in the Italian Civil War. Then when I saw how sad you were to be away from home at this time I knew I had to do something.”

In that moment, Theo knew that there wasn’t anybody he’d ever loved as much as he loved you. He took your face in both of his hands and pressed a deep kiss to your lips.

“This is perfect, bellissima, thank you so much.”

[pathologicalreid]

don't say nothing | S.R.

gemini part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.

part one

please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day

Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.

Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.

“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.

Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.

Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.

In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.

“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.

That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.

You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.

The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.

Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.

You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.

Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.

Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.

Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.

“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.

Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.

He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”

Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.

Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”

Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.

Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.

Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.

There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.

Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.

As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.

Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.

“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”

Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.

Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.

You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”

Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.

Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.

“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.

Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.

Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.

“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”

You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.

In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.

“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”

Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.

You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.

“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”

Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.

You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.

Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.

Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.

Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”

“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.

Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.  

Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.

“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.

Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.

Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.

You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.

Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.

The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.

As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.

You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.

Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”

He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.

Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.

Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.

You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.

“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.

He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”

“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.

Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.

Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.

You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”

Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”

You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”

Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.

tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut

@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11

@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts

[ellecdc]

Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds

this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶

poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.

“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.

Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.

“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.

“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”

“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.

“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap. 

James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby. 

“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.

“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.

Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”

You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow. 

You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.

Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?

       So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.

He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.

But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.

So, you were outside.

It was nice outside. 

Well, it was nice enough outside. 

You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.

You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore. 

As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.

“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly. 

He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.

You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.

You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.

“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.

“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes. 

“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.

You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”

The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.

Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.

“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.

“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.

“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.

James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.

James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”

“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining. 

“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.

“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.

“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.” 

James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.

Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies. 

Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.

“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”

But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something. 

Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.

With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.

“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched. 

“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.

“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”

“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.

Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked. 

“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.

You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”

Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.

You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response. 

Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?

Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.

You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.

Except one.

“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response. 

“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled. 

“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.

But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.

“Are you going to flirt with me?”

One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.

“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.

Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.

You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!

“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”

You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.

“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.” 

These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.

“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.

“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.

“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”

James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”

“James!” Remus scolded. 

“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”

Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.

“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded. 

“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.

“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.

“Patience.” He spat spitefully.

“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.

“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.

If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.

You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.

A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.

Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.

You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late. 

“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.

You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.

“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.

Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.

The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”

You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.

You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.

Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.

“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.

“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless. 

“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.

“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.

Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.

“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.

You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”

You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.

“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.

And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.

And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all. 

It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.

“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”

He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.

“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.

“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”

The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.

Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.

“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were). 

You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.

“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.

Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”

“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.

“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”

“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips. 

“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.

“It’s not an act.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.

Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”

Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...

“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.

“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.

Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.

Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.

“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.

“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.

“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.

But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.

Yeah...he was hot. 

“Easy.” Remus warned.

“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.

“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.

Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.

“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.

“I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.

“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.  

“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”

“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.

“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.

“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”

“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose. 

You wanted to break his finger.

But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead. 

“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.

“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”

“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself. 

“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.

“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly. 

Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”

“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.

Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.

“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”

And you aren’t sure what did it. 

You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.

But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.

You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.

You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.

Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”

You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully. 

“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial. 

“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.

Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”

“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.

You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.

“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.

“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.

You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”

No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.

“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.

You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.

“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”

“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.

“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.

He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.

“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes. 

“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”

“It could be.” Remus input.

“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.

“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.

“Me neither.” Remus added.

“I’m n-” James started.

“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”

You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.

“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”

You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.

“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”

Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.

Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶

[fangswbenefits]

Confession

Summary: You come to Miguel when he least expects, and now there is no turning back.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 3.9k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessive Miguel. Inexperienced/V*rgin reader. Oral s*x. Body worship. Dry h*mping. Br*eding k*nk.

Part 1 - Previous part

Miguel chose to give you space and time.

For two whole days, he had kept all interactions with you at a minimum. 

Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

It pained him that things between you two were now in this limbo. You were still your sweet self as expected, but Miguel had soured. Anyone within a three meter radius could spot it.

So when he walked into HQ with blood dripping from his face, no one dared approach him besides the occasional spider asking if he needed anything.

He dismissed all of them and headed to Lab 2 in search of a first-aid kit to deal with the bleeding bruises. 

"Need help, boss?" a fellow spider offered.

Miguel shook his head, and kept going through the countless shelves until you came into his field of vision right in the corner of his eye.

His heart immediately skipped a beat as usual.

Holding a small bag in your hand, you rummaged through it and handed him two pieces of gauze.

"Thanks," he grumbled under his breath, as he pressed the soft fabric to his face.

"What happened?"

Miguel scoffed and turned his head away from you, not wanting to extend the conversation.

He heard you heave a sigh. "Okay, Mr. Grumpy. Can you please move away, then?"

This time, he shifted to glare at you in confusion.

You smiled warmly and pointed at the lab counter that was covered in drops of blood.

Oh.

He grabbed the bag from your hands and began pacing towards his station, but it seemed that you had no intention of parting ways with him just yet.

And that hurt more than any of his wounds.

Having you around was intoxicating enough, but having to go days without barely seeing or interacting with you, had taken a toll on him.

And the result had been sloppiness and being caught off guard by an anomaly.

Very amateur of him.

Very unlike him.

And all because he had filled his mind with you, since he couldn't physically have you.

But you insisted on being present in his life even when you didn't have to.

Miguel walked through the door and let it slide shut, knowing fully well that wouldn't deter you from stepping inside as well. 

"Let me take a look. Please."

He threw you a side-glance, and stopped to glare at his own reflection on the nearby glass wall instead, and determined that the damage could have been much worse. 

"Miguel O'Hara, stop being stubborn and let me take a look."

Your kind voice was chewing at his nerves, and he had to take a deep breath to stop himself from snapping.

He'd rather not have you at all than having your pity.

But then again, there was still that part of him that craved your attention.

And he gave in, like the fool he was. 

"Fine."

You were standing by his desk, and he saw the triumph glimmer in your face. "Take a seat."

He swallowed and did what you asked, allowing your hands to cup his face. Your touch had his stomach flip, and he couldn't bring himself from breaking eye contact with you, even when you moved your finger under his chin, tilting his head back slightly.

"Right," you said in a low voice, before removing the bloodied gauze. "It's very superficial. I think I can just use liquid stitches."

He figured as much, but his focus wasn't on his bodily bruises anymore, but on the delicate touch of your hands, the intensity of your roaming eyes, and, above all else, your warmth.

"Hold the bag a bit higher."

Miguel offered it to you, and you smiled in return.

That sweet smile of yours that had him tightly wrapped around your finger for so long.

His sweet girl…

Your touch left his skin briefly as you gathered the needed material to fix him. Miguel allowed his eyes to flutter shut, occasionally hissing from the sting of the antiseptic as you cleaned his wounds. His mind went blank for a few seconds, and he only focused on enjoying how you took care of him.

Miguel had forgotten what it felt like to be taken care of. He had spent so much time looking after others, that having the roles switched felt so foreign, yet so welcome.

"I didn't think you could ever get injured," you said with a faint chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence.

Miguel knew you were trying to lighten the mood, but he remained silent.

You worked on him with impressive expertise, patching him up.

Once you were done, you lightly patted the edges of the adhesive that covered his wounds and stepped away.

Pride settled on your face, and you moved to sit on the chair across his. "Looking good as new."

"Thank you."

He wished he was strong enough to ask you to leave, but he had missed these little moments. He had accepted you needed time and space, but it still hurt to think that he could have been there for you, and that you had pushed him away instead.

You drummed your fingers on the table for a while before taking a deep breath. "Miguel… we should talk."

"What about?"

"Us."

Miguel slowly straightened in his seat. 

You had his full attention now.

"I don't want things between us to feel awkward," you began, eyes fixed on his. "I don't want us to grow apart…"

He hadn't seen this coming. He assumed it would take longer than this for you to come to him again.

He wasn't often wrong about many things, but he had been wrong about this.

Cocking an eyebrow at you, he leaned back. "Then what do you want?"

Your gaze faltered briefly. "I thought it'd be easier being with you intimately. It felt less… suffocating. It made it easier for me to bury my feelings." You paused and swallowed. "I know people do this casually, and I assumed you felt that way, too…"

He remained silent for a while, slowly digesting the information you had just dropped on him. 

It felt like a confession of sorts, but that last part left a sour taste in his mouth.

"You assumed wrongly," he finally spoke, face twisting into a light scowl. "Is this why you pushed me away the other day? Because you think I only look at you that way?"

Your eyes shot up and you shook your head. "I didn't push you away… I… never meant for that, anyway. I just needed time to think," you said in a whisper. "Like I said, I know some people do this casually… and I would be fine with you just wanting that. I still am," you corrected yourself.

A part of Miguel felt incredulous at this turn of events. Were you confessing you had deeper feelings for him? Or was it all surface-level? 

But another part of him wasn't allowing him to fully savour the first possibility. He wanted you. He needed you. But the conclusion you had drawn of him stirred annoyance inside him.

"What do you want from me?" He snapped a bit too harshly.

Your mouth parted, but no sound came out.

"Sex? I can give you that," he said dryly. "But that is not all I want. Is that all you want?"

You looked restless. "I… I think I want more."

"You think? I don't want anything from you that you won't give willingly," he said in a softer tone this time. "This doesn't have to be more than it is. If all you want is intimacy, I can help you out. But I wish for more, and I want you aware of that."

You remained still for a while as if weighing your options.

Not long after, you nodded.

There was absolutely no doubt inside him. He was sure of how he felt about you, and he was too desperate to have anything he could take. Even casual sexual intimacy if that was what it took to soothe his frustration.

But he couldn't hide his true intentions any longer, and had to make things crystal clear for you.

"What about Tom?"

Your eyes widened. "Tom?"

"Yes. How do you feel about him?"

He needed reassurance.

"We'll work on rebuilding our friendship… but that's it."

That was good enough. Realistically, Miguel didn't expect you to sever your bond to your childhood friend. He didn't even want you to, so long as you weren't getting your feelings hurt.

You then rose to your feet and walked to him with unsure steps. Once you were in front of him, Miguel instinctively parted his legs, allowing your to close the distance between you two.

You glanced around you, and Miguel knew what you were silently assessing.

With a quick tap of a finger on his watch, rendering the glass windows opaque.

The newfound privacy made you visibly relax, and you brought your hands to either side of his head, before raking gentle fingers through his hair.

Miguel had to bite back a moan, and tilted his head back, angling it perfectly with yours.

His heart drummed rapidly inside him as you lowered your face to press the softest kiss to his forehead, and he brought his arms to envelop you into a tight embrace, his chin resting in between your breasts.

There was comfort in this type of silence.

Actions did speak louder than words, after all.

The way you began trailing kisses down his face, carefully avoiding his wounds, had him melting into your touch.

You hesitated upon reaching his lips, hovering over them with your own.

He could feel your breath fanning them rhythmically, and he felt the impending erection stirring down below.

And then you kissed him.

It was shy and controlled at first, but he quickly parted his lips, deepening the kiss. You moaned into him first, gently tugging at strands of his hair. Miguel's groan tore through his throat and he dropped his hands to your waist, gripping them tightly and bringing you closer to his strained erection.

You jolted once you felt it nudging your legs, breaking the kiss momentarily.

"Hard already?" 

The genuine tease in your voice awoke in him the urge to breed you. It was primal and intense, and he knew he should keep that to himself for now. However, he would need to know if you were on birth control eventually. 

"You make it easy," he chose to say, placing one hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another kiss.

He would devour you if you allowed him to.

His tongue slipped past his lips and met yours halfway. You tugged at his hair again and he bucked his hips against you.

He was so painfully hard and already dripping precum.

Just for you.

His sweet girl.

You let him take control and only parted from him once his other hand began to move to your front, fingers dipping between your legs.

Your body language told him to immediately stop, and he did.

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "I'm… still getting used to this…" your voice was but a whisper. "Can I… come over to your place later today?"

His cock was throbbing impatiently, craving release from his tight digital suit, but he nodded.

He wanted you to feel comfortable and safe around him, so he placed your needs above his.

He silently vowed to always do this.

You brought your lips to his unarmed cheek and pressed a fleeting peck to it.

"See you later, Mr. Grumpy," you said with a smile before exiting through the sliding door.

Miguel looked down at the visible outline of his cock and contemplated easing some of the tension, but he decided against it.

He would gladly build up all the frustration within him and only you would be able to relieve him from it.

You came to him late at night, before the clock struck midnight.

For the second time that day, you had come to him.

Your steps echoed through the hall and you came into sight, immediately earning his undivided attention. 

"Hey, you."

Miguel's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Hey."

You were wearing a flowery dress that trapped his gaze. It fit you perfectly, but he couldn't wait to get it off you.

Laughing nervously, you took determined steps to where he sat on his couch until you were close enough. 

Miguel met your eyes and watched carefully as you lowered yourself to straddle his waist. Instinctively, his hands slipped under your dress to grip your hips into him.

Then he noticed you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You giggled, biting your lip teasingly. "Is this too much?"

"It's not even enough."

He caressed your skin with his thumbs, as he positioned you right on top of his hardening cock, that was now stirring slowly inside his sweatpants.

You gasped softly as your folds parted to accommodate the underside of his cock, increasing the pressure on your clit.

Miguel considered immediately removed the only layer of clothing that was in the way, but he wanted to feel you soak the fabric.

"I really, really like you," you said through half-hooded eyes, caressing the edges of the bandage covering the wound on his cheek.

Then, you took his lips in yours.

This time, you were the one taking the lead and he let you set the pace. He tasted the impatience and hunger in you, and helped you grind against him. You were a fast learner. You already knew how to sway your hips sensually against his cock, drawing a low groan from him.

Miguel felt his cock fully harden just from feeling your body undulating under the palms of his hands. 

You were going to kill him one day. He was sure of this.

Your hands moved from his shoulder to your chest, undoing the cute buttons that held the dress together.

He broke the kiss so he could marvel at your breasts coming into view, as you allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders and arms.

The nipple piercings glistened, and he felt his cock twitch from the sight of the spider pendant dangling from each of them.

He wanted to make you custom ones. Maybe with his own symbol. Or his initials. He wanted to mark you as his, and what better way than this?

"Please touch me," you begged, arching your back lightly.

Sweet.

Hungry.

His.

He brought both hands to your chest and grazed your nipples with the pads of both thumbs, hardening them.

You moaned softly, and kept riding his clothed cock.

"Can I tug gently?"

"Please…"

Miguel's hips jerked to meet yours, and he felt your wetness finally seeping through his pants.

He twirled your nipples at first in between his fingers, before gripping the metal piercing, tugging ever so slightly in awe.

You gasped loudly this time, stilling yourself as he admired the jewelry.

"I'll make you custom ones," he promised, as he positioned himself to press a kiss to one nipple. "With my symbol."

You whimpered with a nod. "Yes…"

You'd look so pretty being marked by him.

He wrapped his lips around the nipple, capturing and twirling the pendant with his tongue.

Too bad you hadn't been bred yet. He would have loved to taste your milk as you carried his child. 

You pressed down on him, and the motion of your pussy dragging along his cock was enough to draw the first beads of precum.

He couldn't care less that he was about to get soaked in it, as he knew his body was only trying to prepare itself to be inside yours.

"Slowly… Miguel…" you pleaded in between moans, burying your hands in his hair. "Miguel…"

He could easily get addicted to you mumbling his name like that, but he did release the nipple, admiring how perky it looked.

Before he could have it in his mouth for a second round, you slipped off of him, settling on the floor and in between his legs.

He quickly spotted the damp spot along the outline of his cock from you grinding viciously on him.

"What is it?" he asked, unsure of what to do next.

A faint pout settled on your lips. "Can I… can you show me how to… do it?"

His eyes widened at the realisation of what you meant when your gaze landed on his crotch.

"Are you sure?"

You merely nodded, hands grasping at his waistband, gently pulling it down until his cock sprang free.

Immediately, you straightened yourself and shifted closer. He could feel your curious gaze on him, as strings of precum dripped from the tip.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering how long it would take for him to cum from this.

"Open your mouth," he breathed, and you immediately complied. "Just give it a few licks first."

You nodded and darted out your tongue to press it flat along the underside of his cock.

He immediately flinched, but still gripping it at the base to to push it towards you.

You pulled back with a pout. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing. It feels really good…"

A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "What now?"

He inhaled sharply, trying to keep himself from going over the edge too soon.

"Lick the tip…" 

This time, you wrapped your fingers around him, and positioned yourself until your tongue grazed along the tip, collecting the thick droplets of precum.

He had to grip the cushions on his couch to steady himself, not wanting to accidentally shove his cock into your mouth.

You kept your eyes on him, working your tongue around the sensitive tip until he saw the strings of precum mixed with your saliva begin to dribble from the corners of your mouth.

He immediately pressed his eyes shut.

The visual stimulation would only make him reach his peak faster, and he wanted you to be able to take his cock in your mouth before he exploded.

You kept giving him quick licks, further edging him.

"You need to stop…" he groaned, his hips lifting from the couch. "Please…"

Once you did, he opened his eyes again only to be met by the thick and long strings of precum of either side of your chin to drip down to your breasts.

"Too much?" you asked shyly, swiping your tongue along your bottom lip.

Fuck.

You looked so fucking delicious.

But he needed more.

"Do you think you can fit it in your mouth now?"

You quickly nodded. "I think so."

Miguel knew he was not going to last long. "Go slowly…"

You didn't need to be told twice, and craned your neck before lowering yourself and sliding the tip past your lips.

His hips instantly bucked, further sliding in and nearly gagging you.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, lovingly caressing your cheek.

You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was hard to do with his thick cock stuffing your mouth.

"Suck gently…" he said with a groan that quickly turned into a hiss once you began to suckle softly. "Just like that…"

You were so good for him…

He saw your eyes watering slightly as you took him even deeper. "Don't be greedy… you're doing just fine, sweet girl."

By this point, more beads of precum and saliva began to spill from the corners of your mouth, streaming down your face until they connected under your chin into a single strand that dangled further and further down.

Miguel felt his balls tighten lightly as a warning sign.

He was actually impressed with how long it was taking for him to reach an orgasm.

And that was when he decided he didn't want to cum just yet.

Slowly, he gripped your chin and slid off your mouth, earning a muffled protest from you until he was fully out, a string of precum bridging your lower lip to his tip.

"Miguel… why?"

You were pouting again and he nearly lost it. 

"Come here," he asked, trying not to focus too much on how his body was throbbing for release.

You wiped the wetness from your face with the back of your hand, but did as you were told, standing up.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded right away. 

"I want you to lay on your back," he instructed with a sultry voice. "Then I want your legs over my shoulders."

You seemed to hesitate at first, but moved to sit on his thighs, as Miguel grabbed your hips to help you slide into his desired position. Your legs parted to rest on his shoulders and he effortless lifted your hips.

"Oh…" you drawled out as your dress slid up your thighs, until you were fully exposed to him.

Miguel almost groaned at the sight of your swollen clit peeking through your soaked folds.

"Tell me if it gets too much."

"Why would I-" your words did in your mouth the moment he dragged his tongue across your folds, tasting you for the first time.

He felt your hips jerk lightly under his touch, but he had decided to bring you over the edge with just his mouth.

So, naturally, Miguel began to eat you out.

His thirst for you was satiated with each flick of his tongue across your throbbing clit, yanking the most delicious gasps and whimpers from you.

He first let his tongue slide past your opening, as his nose pressed against your clit.

You choked on a sob as he went deeper. "Oh…oh my…"

Your wetness quickly began to coat his his lips and chin, as he continued to feast on your tast.

"Miguel… I… please…"

His cock twitched at the sound of your voice, and he slipped out of you only to wrap his lips around your clit.

Your hips bucked violently into him, and he had to still you with both hands, so he could properly suckle on it.

More wetness spilled from you, fueling Miguel's ego, as it was the best indicator that your body was yearning for him to breed you. He felt it pool in his tongue and eagerly swallowed as much as he could, feeling intoxicated with your taste.

He sucked a bit more fiercely and could tell you were close. So, so close.

Come for me, cariño…

You were mumbling his name with other incoherent words as you reached your peak.

As soon as he felt you tip over the edge, he let go of your clit and plunged his tongue inside, so he could feel your contracting rhythmically around him.

Your whimpers turned into loud grunts as your orgasm spread throughout your body like wildfire. Your legs began to shake and he wrapped his fingers around his own cock, pumping it in unison with each contraction.

His senses were completely flooded and it didn't take long for his balls to tighten and the first spurts of cum to gush from the tip.

As you descended from your bliss, Miguel entered his, leaning back against the backrest and groaning loudly as he rolled his own hips, desperately fucking his hand.

His fangs were fully on display as your wetness dripped from them while also running down his chin and neck.

By the time he was able to come to his senses again, you had slipped from his grasp, kneeling on the floor with your head pressed to his thigh, breathing erratically.

The two of you remained silent, as both struggled to even out your breaths.

His cum had landed on his shirt, seeping through the fabric and dribbling down his toned abdomen.

"Do you want to spend the night…" Miguel finally managed to find his words again, caressing your cheek approvingly.

You were panting heavily and could only nod.

Part 8

Masterlist

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

prompt 8 and 14 (shy readers first time) and moms bsf wanda

You Were Red and You Liked Me Because I Was Blue

Mom's bsf!Wanda Maximoff x shy!innocent!Romanoff!fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, W calls herself Mommy, use of pet names, W fingers R

A/N: I worked on this all day while I didn't feel good and I have a killer headache at the moment so if I missed any warning I'm sorry. I can't think anymore.

The air was cold, without snow falling to distract you it felt unbearable to be waiting for your ride back home for break. Unfortunately you mom was off on a work trip until 3 days before Christmas so instead her best friend, Wanda would be picking you up.

Normally Wanda would have also been preoccupied this time of year, but since her and Vision finalized their divorce and custody of the boys, Vision would be getting them Christmas break first.

You couldn't imagine what that must be like for Wanda. Suddenly after 10 years of family tradition she was alone again and Wanda being alone was never a good thing. You'd known Wanda for a long time. After Natasha helped take down the red room she'd taken you, the youngest widow on the ship under her wing. The day you gained Natasha as a mom, you also gained an aunt Yelena. You had always heard stories of the famous Black Widow that got away and you'd seen Yelena training with others the greatest child assassin the world has ever known. Though you know her now as Auntie Lena who eats Mac and cheese straight out of the pot.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you see the familiar red subaru ascent. Wanda pulled up with a smile as you opened up the trunk to set your luggage in before quickly getting in the passenger seat with a shiver. Wanda pulled you into her arms, your body instantly heating from her contact.

“Hi sweetheart. How was the flight in?” She asked near your ear, making your heart skip a beat as you pulled back, trying to calm your body down.

“It was fine. Better than having you drive five hours to come grab me.” You told her as you put on your seat belt.

“I wouldn't have minded a 5 hour road trip with you sweet girl.” You bit the inside of your cheek at her words, choosing to stare out the window as she pulled away from the airport.

With Wanda's help you brought your luggage into the house and headed to your room to finally lie down and stretch out. The flight was only an hour and a half and the car ride back was about a half hour. You had barley acknowledged Wanda when she said about her starting on dinner instead choosing to go shower and clean yourself up.

You'd been told that even though you're an adult your mom wanted Wanda there with you. She said it was so you could keep an eye on the other. For Wanda it was so you'd stay out of trouble and for you it was to keep Wanda company. Natasha knew what it was like for Wanda to be alone.

What you and Natasha didn't know though was Wanda had fawned over you since she met you. When Natasha first introduced you and Yelena you always hid away. A little mouse making little to no noise as you moved. Even your thoughts were quiet to Wanda. It was something she found solace in around you. She knew what had happened to you and the other widows. Though you were next step of perfecting what Drekovy wanted out of the widows, total control they had perfected and for you, the only survivor of your age group, an enhanced super soldier serum. It gave you all the same enhancements as Steve and Bucky, but you stayed small, unassuming so no one ever saw you coming.

“Y/N! Dinner's ready sweet girl!” Wanda called up as you looked over yourself in the mirror, the scars lining your arms, shoulders, chest. They were everywhere.

You took the stairs two at a time, hair still damp, but Wanda's cooking smelt too good to keep her waiting. She looked up from moving things from the counter to the dining table. Natasha always used to have these ‘family meals’ where her parents, Yelena, Wanda, Vision, and the boys would come over. They stopped happening when Wanda and Vision decided to get the divorce. A smile was on Wanda's face,

“I made your favorite. Help me move it over to the table.” You happily helped out so the two of you could eat dinner together.

As Wanda was cleaning up and insisting that you go relax on the couch and get a movie ready you watched her from the couch, forgoing a movie and putting on The Office instead. You needed the background noise because to you your thoughts felt so loud that Wanda must be able to hear you if you didn't have something distracting her.

As she finished up and sat next to you she gave no indication of hearing your thoughts which she often did to those around her. Her arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against her as if you were two magnets. You bit the corner of your lips trying to watch the show.

You knew Wanda was experienced obviously, she has twins. You on the other hand haven't even gotten the opportunity to kiss a girl or a boy or anyone because from the day you met Wanda all you ever wanted was her. You'd never tell her that though.

She was with Vision when you met her nearly 13 years ago. With everything that happened after that with Thanos and then defeating him without the loss of half the population you could just live life normally for the first time.

Wanda's hand found your thigh, rubbing gently as she watched the show, one the two of you have watched multiple times over the years. You enjoyed sitcoms like she did along with being introduced to reality TV which is just a guilty pleasure really.

“W-Wands…” your voice was barely a whisper and Wanda pretended not to hear you. Not even when you started squirming under her touch as her hand grew closer to your hot center. Her hand squeezed you as you let out a little whimper. “Wands…” you tried again, trying to be louder, but you couldn't. Once again your plea goes unacknowledged as her pinky brushes against your clit, your hands fly down to her wrist. She finally looks at you. You don't dare look at her.

“What's wrong sweet girl?” She asks so innocently as if she has no idea what she's doing.

“W-Wands…I…you…” you fumble with your words. Her other hand reaches your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“What about us sweet girl?” You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. She pulls you onto her lap, her hands resting on your hips. “Just watch the show sweet girl. Let Mommy play.” You felt like fireworks went off in your stomach. Sure you'd heard the boys call Wanda Mommy and yeah you'd heard her call herself Mommy over the years, but never in the tone she just used and never directed at you.

You felt like everything on you was burning except for Wanda's hands that were always cold and clad in rings. You did as told keeping your eyes on the screen until you felt her hand push past your waistband. Your hands once again grabbing her wrist, not because you didn't want her to, you really wanted her too. You were nervous.

“W-Wands…I've never…” Wanda moved forward, tilting her head to look at you.

“Not ever at college?” She questioned. You shook your head.

“N-not even a kiss…” you admitted. Wanda's hand leaving your shorts and moving to your face.

“These precious lips haven't kissed anyone else?” You shook your head, “So I'll be your first?” She asked pulling you closer. All you could manage as your heart pounded was a soft ‘mhmm’ before her lips touched yours.

As her lips meet yours, it's a gentle yet electrifying sensation, sending waves of warmth cascading through you. Wanda's touch is tender, guiding you through this unfamiliar territory with ease and patience. With each fleeting moment, you feel yourself melting into her embrace, the world around you fading into the background.

When Wanda pulls back, there's a brief moment of hesitation, as if time itself is holding its breath. You find yourself lost in her gaze, a mixture of emotions swirling within you – anticipation, vulnerability, and a newfound courage. Slowly, a soft smile tugs at the corners of Wanda's lips, her eyes sparkling with tenderness.

With a gentle brush of her fingers against your cheek, Wanda whispers words of reassurance, her voice a soothing melody in the stillness of the room. And as you lean into her touch, a sense of peace settles within you.

The night carried on without Wanda trying to slip past your shorts instead she kept stealing kisses late into the night before deciding it was time for bed. It was when you moved you could feel just how wet you'd before and you freeze, your thighs smacking tightly together. Wanda stopped, a tug on your hand.

“What's wrong sweet girl?” She looked back at you, confusion etched on her face.

“It…its..icky…” you squirmed and Wanda smirked, taking two steps towards you.

“Don't worry my sweet girl,” she tilted your head up, “Mommy is going to take good care of you.” Her breath against your lip, her voice sweet and thick with her accent, the one you heard all those years ago. Your legs want to turn to jelly.

Wanda wasn't expecting you to stay quiet once her fingers slipped past your wet folds, but you did. Little breathy moans, small whimpers, tiny pleas fell past your lips as your face burned and your eyes screwed shut.

“Don't close your eyes Detka. Look at me.” You could only obey with her voice sounding the way it did. You looked at her, she smiled at you and only picked up her pace.

You squirmed and felt like you were going to burst as you whimpered and tried to get away, but she held you there. You tried closing your legs, but she held them open.

“Open your legs Detka. I wanna see you.” Her nails dug into your thigh.

“F-feels weird…” you squeaked out.

“You're gonna cum for Mommy it'll make you feel better. Go on. Let it happen.” As if your body was waiting on her word, that coil inside of you snapped. Your back arched as your eyes rolled back. “That's a good girl…Mommy’s good girl.” Her fingers slowed down before leaving you. Your eyes closed but soon enough Wanda was helping you sit up.

“Water sweet girl. Take a few sips.” You did as told, knowing Wanda always knew best. When she felt you had enough she tapped your cheek and you let go.

She helped you clean yourself up, the cool towel feeling nice against your hot skin and then into pajamas which only consisted of an old band t-shirt of Wanda's and a pair of your panties. As she got the two of you settled into your bed, holding you against her chest. Her fingers moved through your hair as your eyes began to flutter she spoke,

“We're going to have a lot of fun until your mom comes home.” You smiled against her skin. You almost hoped she wouldn't be home for Christmas if it meant more time playing like this with Wanda.

[finalgilmoregirl]

omg I loved your grumpy x sunshine Mike and reader work - could you please do another scenario where the sunshine! reader is the one who has a bad day and it’s up to grumpy! Mike to comfort and help out in his own way? :) thanks for sharing your work!

a/n : i'm glad you enjoyed it, thanks for the request. fem!reader, she/her pronouns, mainly just fluff

☆ bad day : grumpy!mike schmidt x sunshine!fem!reader

mike knew something was wrong the moment he closed his door behind him and was greeted with silence has he entered the house.

you were always rushing in to greet him as soon as the sound of his keys against the door knob signaled his arrival, but today that clearly wasn't the case.

"hello?" mike called out and a moment later was met by the sight of abby creeping out of the hallway.

"where's y/n?"

"well hello to you too" the young girl rolled her eyes, walking past mike and heading for the kitchen.

"sorry" he sighed, catching her arm before she got too far and pulling her into his arms for a hug, earning a groan in response. "how was your day?"

"it was okay, but i think y/n/n's sick."

"sick? what do you mean?" mike thought back to when he last saw you just that morning. you were fine, your normally bubbly self despite the early hours, yawning between giggles as you and abby got breakfast prepared.

abby shrugged, "i don't know, she's been in bed since we got home."

mike knew you better than abby to know that you couldn't be sick. even if you were sick, you would protest and continue your daily routine as usual. something had to have been seriously wrong for you to defy from that routine and lay in bed for hours, especially with abby home. you hated to leave her alone and always tried to find something spontaneous and fun for the two of you to do if time permitted.

he warily walked into the direction of your shared bedroom and slowly opened the door that was left ajar. the lights were off and if it wasn't for the glow of the hallway light, he wouldn't have been able to see your figure on the bed in the dimness of the afternoon darkness.

but there you were, laying on your side, facing away from the door. mike could tell you weren't sleeping by the way that you were scratching at the loose threads of the faded colored duvet.

"hey" he called out softly, nearing your spot on the bed where he then took a seat on the edge, softly placing a hand on your shoulder. "you okay?" he asked, trying to gauge your emotions. that quickly cleared up however when he heard a sniffle come from you, followed by a small hiccup. you were crying.

mike leaned over to look at your face and was met with wet eyes and puffy chapped lips. his eyebrows furrowed, "hey hey hey" he said softly, moving you so you were now laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to will the tears away. you hated crying, and you knew mike hated to see you cry. "what's wrong? what happened?"

you closed your eyes and let out a deep breath, clearly trying to control yourself. "just...had a bad day." you sighed.

"well, talk to me about it." mike wasn't always the best at dealing with emotions, but he was good at comforting you and abby, always wanting you to open up to him, even if he had trouble doing the same sometimes.

you took in another deep breath and nodded, preparing yourself to tell mike about the worst day you'd had in a while.

"i fell off the front steps after you and abby left this morning. but it was okay" you started, "i laughed, realized i scraped by knees and had to change my pants but that was okay." mike nodded along and listened, rubbing your side as you spoke. "but then i got a flat tire on my way to work." you continued, sighing as you felt the emotions building up again. "that was fine, it took me a while to get it fixed but i mananged and that was taken care of with no problems. but i was late, and usually my boss would let that kind of thing slide, but we had some hire ups there to oversee us and when one of them called me out for not being "better prepared", instead of changing the subject or at the very least, defending me after everything i've done for him, he agreed! then she basically told him that i should either be fired or have my paycheck cut." you finished with a huff and let the fresh tears that had built up in your eyes fall down your face.

mike felt a pang of hurt in his chest as he heard you recount the unfortunate events of your day. you didn't deserve to go through all of that. "why didn't you call me?" he asked, brushing the tears away from your face and attempting to flatten the hairs that had become out of place.

your hands came up to cover your face as you let out a sob. "i forgot to charge my phone!" you cried, earning a soft aww honey from mike as he kissed your temple, allowing for you to let your feelings out. after a minute of you gasping for air through your cries and furiously wiping away tears that just kept coming, you started to relax. you sighed and turned your head to your partner.

"i'm sorry you had to see me like this, how was your day?" you asked, still sniffling. mike shook his head and scoffed a laugh, even in the middle of a breakdown, you still want to talk about him.

"no don't worry about me, it was fine." he said, "how can i help you?"

you shrugged, looking down and beginning to play with mikes fingers where his hand now rested on your stomach.

"come on" he insisted, "you always help me when i'm having a bad way and i want to help you now. do you want a snack? do you want to watch a movie, or go for a drive? anything you want, i'll do it for you."

you let out a small laugh at mike's dedication, causing him to squeeze your side. "i'm serious!"

you looked back up and into his eyes, cracking a small smile. "maybe a movie." you said quietly.

"okay, i can do that." mike spoke, starting to get up from his seat on the bed until he was stopped by your hand on his arm.

"but first can you just hold me for a bit. please?" mike looked down at you with a kind of softness that he ever only reserved for you.

"yeah, i can do that too."

the end ☆

[ihavethedreamies]

Easy | Felix | Easy to Expert (1)

Lee Yongbok (Felix - Stray Kιds)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5k

Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Biting, One Singular Spank, He Gets a Bit Rough, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Don't do what they do.)

Summary: In which you can't normally get off and Felix doesn't like this one bit.

Author's Note: Imagine trying to write something like this with a straight face because you are at your uncle's house in the living room with everyone else there and you can't go anywhere else...

Also your friend's name is Yuna here and she's not a reference to any idol or anything, this was just the name that came to mind.

-> Part 2 <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"He had the stamina of a work horse; I thought I was going to die."

"Really?" You weren't convinced.

"No, seriously. I had never came that many times in one session." Your friend shook her head and you blinked. You watched her take a swig of beer and you took another bite of chicken.

"You started without us?" Someone whined behind you, and you turned to see Jisung and Minho coming up to your table. The younger man pouted as he sat down in the empty chair next to you while Minho sat on his other side.

"You guys are half an hour late." Yuna sneered at them, waving a drumstick aggressively.

"Where's everyone else?" you asked.

"Seungmin can't make it, Jeongin is sick. Chan and Changbin are on their way from the studio. Felix and Hyunjin just left campus after dance practice." Minho listed off, waving his hand up to get the auntie's attention to get beer.

"Is Jinnie going to shower first? Poor thing looks like he fell in a pond after dance practice." Yuna bounced a bit as she talked since the waitress brought over the order of Tteokbokki you had ordered.

"That's why they're late." Jisung spoke around a mouthful.

"Anyway, he ended up breaking up with me because I apparently wasn't enough for his libido." Yuna continued her story despite the fact two of the boys had arrived and Chan and Changbin were arriving.

"Woah, what?" Chan laughed setting his bag down next to her and the other man sat across from Minho.

"Is this the same guy who said he wished he had two dicks to fuck twice as much?" Changbin asked as you watched his shirt tighten over his chest as he took his jacket off. Everything he wore was so tight…You were taken out of your zone-out when he scoffed, "My eyes are up here (Y/N)." Everyone laughed at you and your face tingled a bit, you took a sip of beer not meeting his eyes.

"Wait, what?" Chan asked again and Yuna rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. I think he was possessed by a sex demon or something, geez."

"Who are we talking about?" The oldest man asked. Yuna then recapped everything she had told you to Chan who stared blankly at her the whole time.

"Okay, way more than I ever needed to know." He shook his head and grabbed his chopsticks.

"You don't even know the half of it." Changbin huffed and the other girl gasped dramatically.

"You asked me to tell you most of it!"

"Not everything! I really didn't care about who you did everything with first, that was a long ass list."

"A list of asses?" Minho seemed to tune in at a very specific time.

"Do I want to know?" A new voice groaned as Hyunjin sat at the end of the table. Felix came around to the other end near you and took a seat.

"Yuna is sharing WAY too much again." Jisung's eyes got big to emphasize his point.

"Well, this started because (Y/N)-"

"NO!" You almost leaped across the table to shut her up. That unfortunately made the boys all the more curious and it was getting steadily louder as they urged you to share. If not but to spare the rest of the patrons and workers, you finally relented.

"I just told her that I didn't see too much point in rushing into sex in a relationship because I don't get much out of it." You didn't look at anyone, just cast a glare at Yuna, then back at your beer bottle.

"Well, you need to find someone else then." Minho told you matter-of-factly.

"It doesn’t matter, and it's not like partners haven't tried…I just can't…I-I can't finish…" You mumbled the last part, and it went deathly silent. You could feel the eyes on you but for some reason, the ones to your left were burning. Glancing up to meet Felix's stare, you're startled by his expression. He looked…intense. You shifted under his gaze. He knew you liked him, and you knew he liked you, but not much had come of it. You two kissed briefly a few weeks ago but it was interrupted, and it hadn’t happened since.

"Wait, seriously? Have you ever?" Chan asked, he had stopped eating. This was serious to him.

"Yeah, but it took forever. I had to do it myself and it wasn't easy." You shrugged. Because of this fact you hadn't had very many sexual encounters or partners. It’s just frustrating when nothing ever came of it.

"So that's when I told her that my last boyfriend might be able to do it since he got me off like six times at once." Yuna explained as she shoved more food in her mouth.

"Did you ex ever do it?" Jisung asked and you nodded.

"Once." That wasn't why you had broken up; he had moved away for work and long distance didn't work too well so you drifted apart.

"Have I ever told you guys about my college roommate's girlfriend?" Hyunjin cut in and quickly everyone was diverted over to his story of the fact that this girl was not loyal by any means. And neither was her boyfriend. Unfortunately for Hyunjin, he was both of their type and he ended up having to switch rooms. The night continued and as more food was eaten, more alcohol was consumed. The rowdiness became too much, and you were more or less kicked out. Yuna was drunk and Changbin promised to get her home in one piece, so he left with her on his back. Chan, Jisung, and Hyunjin followed suit since they all were going to the same place, and you were left with Minho and Felix.

"I'll walk her home. Go check on Jeongin, he might be asleep already but he's not texting back." Felix told the older man who nodded and said goodbye so you two were left alone. You had only one beer that night and Felix didn't even finish his, so you were not even tipsy.

"I-I can get home okay, I didn't drink much." You tried to wave him off.

"It’s okay. Just because you're sober doesn't mean I should let you go alone." He smiled softly and you internally gushed over how pretty he was.

"Thanks." Beginning to head in the opposite direction of everyone else, you two walked in silence for most of the time, but it was companionable. In your head you just kept replaying the small kiss from a few weeks before, not really sure why you were looping on it. When you got to your building, you expected him to leave you at the door, but he opened the door for you and led you toward the elevator.

"D-Do you want to come in? I have some cheesecake left that I can't finish on my own…" You couldn't meet his gaze as you waited for the elevator.

"Sure, thanks." His deep voice was so warming, and you wondered what it would sound like whispering in your ear. You shook your head to clear the thought and got in the lift to get to your floor. Keying in your pin code, the door chimed, and you let him into your apartment. You lived alone and so your place had some clutter about. You hung your coat and bag up, changed to slippers, then moved to clear the papers and pens off the couch. After moving the stuff into a more organized pile on the coffee table, you stood and turned to go to the kitchen, but instead ran into Felix's chest. He was wearing a grey turtleneck that was way tighter than you though it would be on him. His sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows and his hand moved to steady you when you stumbled in surprise at his proximity. Compared to other men, he wasn't very tall, but he was still quite a bit taller than you. When the hands that steadied you moved from your arms to your waist, you were pulled to him even closer. Your breath hitched and your hands instinctually gripped the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders. When your eyes met, he leaned in and as his lips hovered over yours, his deep voice rumbled through you.

"Can I?"

"Y-yes." Your hands moved to rest closer to his neck and he kissed you. This one was different than before. Last time was chaste and soft, but this was growing heated fast. Felix tilted his head more and licked at your bottom lip prompting you to open your mouth. You moaned softly as his tongue invaded your mouth and when he groaned back it was like thunder shook you. Reluctantly, you let him pull away so you both could take a breather.

"Was what you said true? You really can't cum?"

"M-most of the time." It was embarrassing to talk about it in front of everyone, but for some reason it seemed like Felix took it personally.

"Hm. If you let me, I might be able to help." He leaned down some to say this right into your ear, then he sucked on your ear lobe. You shuddered and tilted your head to let him get better access to your neck. He laid searing kisses along your skin, and you swallowed hard.

"O-okay." You were a bit reluctant since it hadn't worked well before. At the same time, he was turning you on way faster than anyone or anything else before. You were not blind, or deaf, he was incredibly attractive, and you would be stupid to say no. Felix's lips pulled into a smile against your throat and he sucked on that spot hard, his teeth digging in slightly. You moaned louder than you meant to, and he could feel your throat vibrate as you did. Not realizing he could pull you closer, when he did you felt him hard against your stomach. His lips moved from your neck, which now had at least three bruises on it, back to your mouth and he dominated the kiss, taking complete control. Finally, to gain more oxygen, he pulled away from you and your head was swimming. He could sense that you were dazed, so he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, carrying you to your room. Setting you down at the end of your bed, he kneeled before you, the look on his face shocked you. You were expecting a fire there, lust, but it was so warm and soft, and you weren't sure how to react.

"I'm doing this because I like you so much. I hate that no one's made you feel good like you deserve. But at the same time…" The hand on your waist dug into your flesh and his expression sharpened, "I want to be able to say I'm the only one that can say he did. Easy." His confession made your walls clench around nothing.

"Will you let me?" Felix asked.

"Of…of course. I like you too-" He cut you off with another devouring kiss and his hands wandered under your sweater and helped you take it off. If you had known this was going to happen, you wouldn't have worn such a plain set of underwear. As the make-out session continued he also removed your socks and pants and he finally pulled back to take his own clothes off. You watched with rapt attention as his turtleneck came off, and…damn. Felix was way more ripped than you thought he would be. Not quite to the level of Chan or Changbin…You were even more enthralled as he took his belt off and undid his jeans to let them fall. His hard cock was straining against the black fabric of his tight briefs, but he left them on as he kneeled before you again. He stood as high as he could on his knees, making him eye level with you.

"Can I?" He reached around your back, and you nodded so he could unhook your plain nude bra. As he took it off, he gently bumped his forehead against yours and flashed a smile.

"You're so pretty." He cooed and you huffed, looking away in embarrassment.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black." You mumbled and he giggled. Felix laid a soft kiss on your lips then began to move down. To your neck, collarbone, sternum, then down your right breast where he latched his mouth around your nipple. You exhaled and let him do what he wanted. He didn't garner much of a reaction, but it felt better than it normally did. He hummed in thought and then he laved his tongue around the peak of your breast, then his teeth slightly dug in, and you gasped. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile, and he sucked hard on your nipple again and your skin tingled. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and he pulled away with a pop and moved to do the same to the other side. Your breathing was getting a bit heavier and as he pulled away from your chest, he pressed his hand on your sternum, telling you to lay back. You did so and as you did; he straight up bit your left breast on the swell of the flesh. This pulled a surprised moan from you, and he smirked, pulling back.

"You left a mark!" You scoffed and he laughed, "You're going to end up with a lot more, love." You gaped at him and before you could answer, his mouth was back on you, kissing over your ribs. You sighed and he moved down to your belly button, then licked a path up to under your breasts. His actions heated your skin, and he moved back down to the waistband of your panties.

"You okay with this?" His fingers had slipped under the fabric to run along your butt, his face close to your covered pussy. He could smell your arousal already and couldn't wait to bury his tongue inside you.

"Yes. How about I tell you if I'm not and you just do whatever you want." You finally told him. You loved that he asked and made sure, but you just wanted him to keep going.

"Whatever I want?" He whispered to himself, and his intense gaze met yours.

"Are you sure, love?"

"Y-yes." You felt like a small furry creature about to be devoured by a tiger.

"Hm." He smirked and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, dragging you to the end of the bed. Felix pressed his face into your covered cunt and licked at your clit through the fabric. You twitched a bit, but not enough for his liking. He clicked his tongue and instead of pulling your panties off, he tore them off. The side hem was fraying a bit and it allowed him to rip the fabric and he tossed the remnant away. You would have complained if it was a nicer pair. The display of strength was incredibly attractive. Once again, Felix's hands gripped your ass, hauling you closer and immediately shoved his tongue into your cunt. You exhaled harshly, laying back. It was if he was a man lost in the desert and you an oasis. He was practically drinking from you, devouring you. His nose bumped your clit as his tongue reached as deep as he could get it. You grunted slightly, surprised at how good it felt. He noticed that every time the tip of his nose hit your button that you flinched very slightly. Removing his face from between your legs for a moment, he took his thumbs and spread you open, and you squealed. It was embarrassing, but you didn't say anything, so he kept going, smirking as you covered your face. Licking another stripe from your core to your clit, he sealed his lips around the little bud and sucked as hard as he could. Your hips jumped slightly, and your breathing picked up, but it wasn't enough yet. Furrowing his brow, he pulled back again, tipping his head. If he wasn't doing what he was it would have been rather cute. He had one more trick up his sleeve. He took his thumb once again and rubbed a circle over your clit to see how you reacted. Glancing up he pushed harder against it to fully expose it, then he leaned forward to suck again. It was a stronger feeling than before and it made your hips jump again but then he did something unexpected, he placed your clit between his teeth and bit down a bit.

"Fuck!" You twitched hard, he wrapped his arm around your hips to hold them down, then he sucked again and gave another little nibble.

"F-Felix-" You gasped, and you were getting close. It was a different feeling than even the few times before. As he abused your poor little clit, he quickly inserted two fingers in your rapidly wetting cunt. This made you gasp again, and he could feel how tight you would be, but he was figuring out you needed a little bit of pain. Once more, he nibbled down, and at the same time he crooked his fingers up hard against your sweet spot and you fell apart. You saw white, you had never felt anything to that extent before. You had slammed your hand over your mouth, but he could still hear you nearly scream out a moan and he smiled cockily; your pussy walls clenched hard around his fingers and cum spurted out of your cunt. He held your hips down, feeling the muscles twitch and spasm. It seemed like it lasted forever and when you finally came down, you were panting hard. He kneeled straighter, pulling his fingers out of you, and noted that you had draped your arm over your eyes, and he couldn't tell if there were tears or sweat flowing down your cheeks. As he stood, Felix licked his fingers clean, and he kneeled over you some and pried your arm from your face. You looked dazed, and he still couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.

"You did so good, love." He stroked the hairs back that were stuck to your forehead.

"How the actual fuck did you do that?" You gaped and he guffawed.

"It seems you like it to hurt a bit?"

"Hurt? It didn’t?" You seemed genuinely confused. Were you really that insensitive? With how tight your cunt was around his fingers he thought for sure it would have stung a bit. Most of the time getting bit somewhere that tender would hurt some even if it felt good.

"Interesting…" He thought for a second then looked back down at you.

"Do you wanna keep going?" Felix brushed a drop of the moisture from your cheek and you glanced at him.

"Why wouldn't I?" He huffed at that.

"You look like you just ran a marathon."

"Felix, if you can make me come, I'm going to let you do it as many times as possible." You deadpanned and his shocked expression softened, and he hummed. He bent over and kissed your forehead gently. His hand grabbed yours and he brought your knuckles to his lips so he could press another kiss there.

"(Y/N), I just want you to know, that I really like you, and I want to just hold you and love you all night." He admitted and your heart began to thud.

"But I think what you need is to be fucked senseless." His voice deepened even further, and his gaze sharpened. Your heart raced even more, and it seemed he was waiting for permission.

"Oh, god, please." You said quickly and he chuckled.

"Scoot up." He kissed your hand once more then let go and he got off the bed, letting you do as he requested. He went and turned your lamp on and shut the big overhead light off. He came over as you pulled your nightstand drawer open to make sure you did have condoms and that they weren't expired.

"What's this?" He had stopped next to you as you grabbed the box and his hand reached in a grabbed something else.

"Oh, uh-" Before you could answer he opened the box. He knew what it was before he asked. Inside there was a series of sex toys and it seemed none of them could do the trick. Bullet vibrator, one looked like a rose with suction, there was a rabbit vibrator, but the one that shocked him the most was the butt plug. It vibrated too and the plastic still hadn't been taken off of the box.

"Woah." He teased, pulling it out and you groaned.

"Haven't tried it?"

"I…Nothing else worked so I figured it was worth a try but I got nervous…"

"Hmm." He was thinking something, and you weren't sure you liked the look on his face.

"Another time." He shook his head and dropped it back in the box and put it in the drawer again and took the condom box from you.

"Hm." He hummed again and you shot him a look.

"What?"

"Have you tried anything with like ribbing or whatever?"

"Yes…didn't do jack. Even did the ones with like warming lube and stuff."

"…I have an idea but only if you're okay with it?"

"What?"

"I know it’s good to be double sure, but you're on the pill, yeah?"

"Yes."

"It seems you have trouble feeling stuff there, you would probably feel more without this." He rattled the box. He had a point, the only reason you used both was for security.

"We can get the morning after thing if you want-"

"That's fine." He seemed to know what he was doing, and you weren't overly worried about it.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Felix." You assured and he nodded, dropping the box back into the drawer, "They're the wrong size anyway." He muttered that to himself, but you caught it. Closing the drawer, he crawled back onto the bed and kneeled at your feet, then cast you a look. You nodded and he pulled your knees apart and for some reason it was still embarrassing even though his tongue had literally been inside you. You were neither a virgin nor a prude, but for some reason, since it was Felix, it felt different.

"Relax, love." He smiled, pressing his lips to yours again and his tongue slipped into your mouth. You whined when he pulled back and he chuckled, then maneuvered and removed his underwear and threw them somewhere.

"Fuck." You whined and you wanted him in your mouth.

"This is about you, love, not me." He pinched your nose, able to tell what you were thinking from the expression on your face.

"Fine." You pouted and his fingers went back to your cunt and gathered the wetness there and you watched as he stroked himself to get ready. What the fuck was he fed that despite his small size his cock was that big? Whatever it was also probably made his voice as deep as it was as well.

"Ready? I'm going to be rough with you." He warned, his sharp gaze rehardened, the softness still there underneath.

"Please." You let him just grab you, he spread your legs open wide, a slight burn in your hamstrings. There was very little time between the head of his cock meeting your cunt and him burying all the way to the hilt. It took your breath away and he grunted at how tight your hot core felt around him. He had honestly never had sex without a condom before either. After being inside your wet heat with no barrier, he didn't think he could ever do anything but, especially since he planned on being with you longer than he consciously realized. You were shivering at the sensation, his hot flesh searing through you, spreading you open so much so instantly. It stung some but it felt better than any other time and you weren't sure if it was because he was fucking you raw or that he was that big. You didn't even want to know how much bigger Chan supposedly was. He contemplated letting you get used to him, but Felix was losing control fast, and it seemed like you liked it rough. His hands on your thighs spreading them open gripped the flesh, easily swinging your legs up so he folded you in half, your knees at your ears.

"Hold on, love." Using his dancing skills, he snapped his hips as hard as he could, and your next orgasm hit you. If you whited out before, you practically blacked out that time. It was like water rushed over your head, your rapid pulse thudding in your ears, your blood audibly racing. He grunted and you could barely hear it through the ringing in your ears and he dug his fingers hard into the flesh of your thighs to hold back his own orgasm. Your walls were hugging his cock so tight, and you were practically gushing around him. He hoped that he had pulled some kind of seal off of you, and that he could get you to fall apart over and over and over. He wanted to be the one that could say he fucked you stupid and that no one could ever finish you simply because they weren't him. His ego shot through the roof, and he wanted to ruin you. When he first thought of going through with this, the plan was to show you how much he loved you, what you meant to him. But he had no idea what you liked and what would finally get you off. If you needed rough, he would do it. Looping his thoughts to keep distracted from the vice of your cunt, he finally felt you relax, and you nearly went boneless, your legs in his grip losing all strength. You were heaving for air again, not sure which way was up or down, how old you were, or even your own name. All you could think of was Felix.

"No!" You yiped as he pulled out, but he rolled you over onto your stomach, hauled your hips up, your face buried in the pillow and he buried his cock back into your needy pussy, making you white knuckled the sheets. He began a truly relentless pace, and it was the best thing anyone had ever done to you.

"You like my cock, love?"

"Fuck, yes!" You managed to get out, each thrust made you silently scream, forming words became nearly impossible. Maybe the fact that he got you to orgasm allowed you to be more sensitive; then maybe because you had tried for so hard for so long with no success, your body could finally let go. Felix had the key to not only your heart, it seemed, but your cunt as well.

Leaning forward, he gripped the frame of your bed for leverage and kept his thrusts just as hard but extremely shallow. The fat head of his cock beat against your back walls so hard that you were sure they would forever be molded to only him. You felt another climax rising and your own hands scrambled to grip the wooden rods of your bed frame as well.

"F-Felix!" You managed to get out and you watched one of his hands leave the frame above you, and he smacked your right ass cheek and upper thigh hard, and you fell over the edge again. This time, he couldn't hold back either, and he fucked as deep into you as he could and filled your womb with his cum. That sensation made your climax flare to max again even though it had begun to dissipate, and your fluttering canal helped him ride out his own orgasm. You thanked the Lord birth control existed because you never wanted him to cum anywhere but inside after that. As you both caught your breath, he slowly pulled out of you and the adrenaline left you and now you were sore. Your clit, your pussy, where he had smacked you, everything. You didn't think you would be able to walk tomorrow. When he had fully withdrew, your hips slumped down and you flopped flat onto the bed, not able to move.

"Hold on, love." He leaned over you and kissed your hot cheek, covered in tears from the intensity of what he just reeked on you. You felt him wipe your used cunt off with a towel and you whined when he moved you to pull the blanket out from under you. He made a note to remove the comforter before fucking you on the bed again, because he sure was planning on doing it again.

"You're fine, pretty girl." He chuckled and crawled into bed with you. He shut the lamp off and the room was cast in shadow before your eyes got used to the dull light of the streetlights behind the curtain. Getting settled, he saw you had laid on your side already, the only way you could fall asleep. Smiling he curled around you, wiggling his arm under your head and wrapped his other around your middle. He rested his hand on your tummy, holding you close. He had to be careful, your cute little butt pressed against his now-covered groin was enough on its own to get him riled back up. The arm under your head bent so his hand could rest on your forehead, and he kissed the back of your head.

"Goodnight, love." Felix hugged you as close as possible, loving being your big spoon.

"I won’t be able to walk tomorrow." You mumbled and buried his nose in your hair and smiled smugly.

"If you can I won’t have done my job right."

"Thank you, 'Lix."

"Of course, sweet." Another kiss to your head.

"Go to sleep. I'll take care of you tomorrow. And every day after that you'll have me." His deep but quiet voice rumbled next to your ear, and you linked your fingers with his on the hand on your stomach.

"I'll have you always, Felix."

"Good, because you're stuck with me now."

-> Part 2 <-

Masterlist

[buckets-and-trees]

Sweet, sweet Aspen. You have been a very bad girl. This soft!dark guy, your boss, caught you doing something wrong—something that could easily get you fired—but he decided maybe, jussst maybe, he should keep your indiscretion, and your resulting punishment, between the two of you. After all, he’s been dreaming about filling you with his cock for ages 😏

(I picked this GIF because it looks like he’s saying, “On your knees.” lolll)

well, dearly beloved sister ho, you know we were thirsting over a particularly ... inspiring gif.

I don't think you anticipated your ask to spawn THIS, but... here we are! THANKS FOR POPPING MY ANDY CHERRY!

Fandom: Chris Evans Characters Title: I'm Your Man Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 3k

Summary: You've spent weeks working to pull off the perfect night for Andy Barber's big charity event. A rush job, but you worked meticulously and diligently over six weeks to coordinate the biggest event of your career to date. You weren't the only one with a plan for the night.

Content Warnings: extortion, explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT, spitting, oral - male receiving, spanking, vaginal intercourse, breeding kink, unprotected sex

Logistical Notes: A NAUGHTY submission @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice challenge. Prompts incorporated are in bold.

Additional Notes: I didn't want to write a summary. There's only enough plot here to smut you up. Dividers by @rookthornesartistry and @firefly-graphics.

You sit up straight when you hear the door to Andy’s home office open behind you.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he says as he strides across the room and takes a seat in the leather executive desk chair.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Barber,” you reply. Every part of your body is tired – tired in a good way from the long day of work – so you were eager to get home, soak in your tiny tub, and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend, but it hadn’t been an incredible inconvenience when he’d asked if he could speak with you before you left.

“Tonight was exquisite, you did well,” he doles out the praise, and you try to quell the blooming in your chest. In the six weeks working with Andy Barber to plan the charity event you’d just executed for his foundation you had seen that he wasn’t one to casually compliment, hard to impress. You had taken more and more satisfaction out of each meeting, email, or text exchange as you consulted and then presented him with options for the event when he had fewer and fewer notes, knowing you had cracked his taste and gained his approval. He’d been your toughest client to date, but by far one of the most rewarding as he had excellent taste.

“Nearly perfect,” he adds.

Your smile falters ever so slightly, and suddenly your chest floods with a chill. “Nearly perfect? I’m sorry, sir, what didn’t live up to your expectations?”

This was far from your first event, you had built an incredible portfolio over the years, and you knew you were finally ascending to be one of the best event coordinators on the eastern seaboard – you had received an email request from a goddamn Vanderbilt to plan a wedding for them in a year and a half that you were going to respond to and accept in the morning. You weren’t arrogant, but you’d worked damn hard and knew you were good.

“You.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “I – what?”

“Only one misstep tonight.”

Your brain flies back through the evening, reviewing every moment, raking through trying to determine what you could have possibly missed.

“I’m very particular about what belongs to me, and I cannot abide theft.”

Your jaw drops.

“Empty your bag.”

Now your whole body is buzzing with incredulity. You shake your head.

“I know what’s in there.”

You almost didn’t take this job when it landed in your lap. He was the reason you knew you should have said no. There were whispers about his reputation, his real businesses. But you took the initial consultation because the pitch was more money than you’d made over the last three years. Then when you’d met him, he’d been so normal, so nice, maybe a little charming, and up until this moment you had convinced yourself there was no way any of those rumors had been right.

But before you even put your hand in your bag, you knew you were wrong to have thought he wasn't all those awful things.

Not one, not two, but three Rolex watches nestled in the bottom of the main pocket. Watches you'd never seen - wouldn't even have known where to find them.

You scoop them out and drop them on his desk, eyes burning with tears. “Why?”

“Yes, why? I was already giving you a fat paycheck. What a shame when I had just given your name to the Vanderbilts’ social secretary for their son’s wedding a few days ago, I’ll have to reach out and let them know.”

“No,” you breathe.

“I’ll have to discreetly let everyone in my network know it’s better not to invite someone in their home with such light fingers.”

Your breath hitches and your hand flies to your mouth to stifle an almost sob, trying to hold back the onset of tears. “Andy, no, please.”

His smile softens. “There we are,” he coos, “you finally called me Andy like I’ve told you to so many times.”

He leans forward resting his arms on his desk.

“Now, if you go upstairs, be a good girl, put on what I left for you in my room, and wait for me, maybe I can make all of this little misunderstanding go away.”

His steel blue eyes are hard, they demand an answer.

You cock your chin up wishing you could say no, wishing you could even scowl at him, but aside from the heat and hurt in your eyes, you know you can’t do anything more without risking further ruin, so ultimately you let your chin drop and nod, resigned to the impossible power this man wields.

“Now we’re back on track for a perfect night, sweetheart. I’ll be up soon.”

You don’t know how long he makes you wait, using the promise of soon as another show of his power, but long enough that your knees hurt from sitting back on your heels in a submissive, kneeling position with your head lowered, hands folded in your lap, and back to the door as the card in the white box left for you had instructed.

Also in the box had been a set of exquisite black lace and silk balconette bra and cheeky underwear. That they fit you like a glove had been both humiliating and alluring.

Even though Andy was the reason you almost said no to the job, even though he was the humiliating reason you were in this position – extorted into a nearly naked state, no question of what was to come – he was also the reason you took the job.

Dread pooled in your stomach, but along with the dread and humiliation, there were rivulets of shameful desire.

You had taken the job for the money and for how quietly charming he had been. He had never outright flirted with you, but he always left you with the question of whether he was. You worked hard for him because it felt good to win his approval. He praised you and you had preened under his intense blue eyes every time. You had forced yourself to keep everything professional.

All for nothing since you were in the farthest position of professional now.

When you finally hear him enter the room, your sit up straight again.

He tsks and says, “Head down, sweetheart.”

Andy comes around to stand in front of you. You see his perfectly polished shoes, the perfectly tailored trousers. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. He runs his thumb over your lips, circling them.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

You do.

He leans closer, then spits in your mouth, and you blink in surprise, a surge of humiliation running through you, but his grip on your jaw is powerful, so you don’t move away.

“Close your mouth but don’t swallow.”

He moves back from you then, and he begins to silently undress. He had already taken off his jacket, but he doesn’t hurry as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, the buttons down his chest, and then shrugs it off his shoulders. He places it nicely on a plush armchair on the side of the room. Next he sits on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes and socks.

The way he doesn’t watch you but does all of this in your line of vision, knowing you have to watch, is another move meant to communicate who is in control of this situation. Still holding his saliva on your tongue is starting to become uncomfortable. Your instinct is to swallow, but you don’t know what disobedience may mean with Andy, so you fight the urge, not wanting to tempt any more of his darkness.

He stands and takes the shoes and socks to a large closet off to the side of the room, and when he returns, he stands directly in front of you again, takes your jaw in his hands again.

“Show me,” he says.

Your eyes watch his face you open your mouth, showing him the pool of saliva.

“Good fucking girl,” he murmurs. You hate the small bloom in your chest those words immediately invoke again. He spits into your mouth for a second time, then with a caress that is too tender he urges you to close your mouth. “Swallow.”

You do.

Andy unbuckles his belt, unbuttons the top of his fly, then unzips and pushes down the waist of his trousers with his briefs, and reveals his hard cock for you.

He’s big.

You had gotten yourself off to the thought of him a few of times late at night alone in your bed, most recently a few days ago, and you hated that you had since you were now here like this, forced on your knees in front of him.

Your core is pulsing with heat at the sight of him though – bigger than you had fantasized, and bigger than any man you’ve been with previously. You know he’ll fill you in a way that will ruin you for other men. You want and dread it.

“Take me in your mouth, sweetheart,” he commands.

Instead of forcing his cock into your mouth, this is more possessive, having you submit yourself to pleasing him of your own accord. You know every way he’s manipulating you.

“If I have to tell you one more time,” he trails off, leaving the end open for your imagination.

You plant one hand softly on his hip and wrap your other hand around his shaft, leaning forward to take him in your mouth. As you push forward, he groans. He won’t hold back when he’s pleased with you – he never has, he knows it affects you. His hands go to either side of your head. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, sucking him, bobbing up and down his length, and for a while he lets you control the speed and the depth, but his hands let you know he can and will control this when he wants to. After the first couple of minutes, he makes this clear when you push back to take a breath and wipe the mix of your spit and his pre-cum dripping out of your mouth and his hands firmly prevent you from moving off him. Instead, he pushes you down slowly – more slowly than you had been pumping – and doesn’t stop until your nose hits his lower abdomen. You try to push against his hips, and he pushes his hips forward with you still anchored on his dick. Your eyes well up.

“So pretty,” he says, “imagined you like this, but you’re more gorgeous than I thought you would be.”

Something in your chest melts. You wish he wouldn’t say things like that. It makes you weaker – weaker for him. He pulls back just an inch or two, then pushes his length into your throat again.

“That’s it, sweetheart, my perfect fucking girl.”

You whimper, and the tears spill over.

His right hand moves away from your face and around behind him. He’s quick, and when you can see his hand again, it’s to discover he’s taken his phone out of his back pocket. He takes photos of you, angling the phone a few different ways. Then he tosses the phone onto the chair where he’d laid his shirt.

Then he resumes his small, concentrated rutting, only easing out just enough to make the thrust back in worth it for him. As he does, he groans, swears, wipes tears from your cheeks, and the moment before it’s too much, he finally pulls you off him.

You fall forward, gasping for deep lungfuls of air, but he’s already putting a hand under your arm and hauling you up.

“Get on the bed,” he instructs, man handling you with surprising ease, doing most of the work your weak and aching legs can’t do to hoist you up onto his Alaskan king bed.

He’s immediately up as well and behind you, the last of his clothing stripped off. His fingers quickly undo the clasp of your bra and pull it off your shoulders and toss it away. He pushes you forward, toppling you down to the mattress. He slaps your ass, and you gasp and jerk. He brings his hand down on your round flesh again, with another sting, but the second one has you moan, and he lets out a satisfied, “Yes,” before giving you a third slap, the hardest, and you moan again, but this one more guttural, and you’d be mortified if you weren’t shocked over the way it translated to pleasure so quickly to your brain.

Then he yanks the lacy underwear roughly down and off your legs, tossing it away as well. He pushes between your legs behind you, splitting your legs open, and his fingers seek your cunt.

He hums in approval, “So wet for me. Ready for me.”

You huff and pant.

He leans over your back, pressing you down into the mattress. “Are you eager for me?”

“Andy,” you whine.

“Say it and I’ll fuck you good, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to. You bury your face in the covers.

He slaps your ass again, and you yelp.

“Admit you want me to fuck you.”

Another slap.

Another.

“Yes,” you finally concede.

“To breed you.”

You gasp, but he’s already hauling you further up the bed, and he drapes himself over your back, arms caging you in on either side of your body. His legs push yours apart as he leans down to press kisses over your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck, along your spine. He uses one hand to guide the thick head of his cock to your leaking entrance. He doesn’t care to stretch you. “Take me in your cunt, sweetheart, it’s mine.”

The only mercy is that he slots himself in slowly.

You press your hands up against the headboard and concentrate on taking deep breaths, on trying to relax your walls completely, because he’s entering you, in you, filling you, unrelenting invasion and it’s pleasure and pain and too much and not enough because every moment of more fullness is exquisite and you can’t even think about holding back the sound he’s pushing out from your diaphragm, up your throat, and out of your mouth, because that’s how it feels as he's filling you.

Once’s he’s fully inside of you, he presses his mouth right next to your ear. “I’m going to fill this pussy with my seed.” He anchors one hand on your hips, then begins pull out, only so he can start thrusting back in. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.”

You’ve never had an orgasm only from vaginal penetration, but the way he fills you as he fucks you, and at this angle, making you almost forget to keep breathing, you wonder if this is how you’ll go, strung out as his cock punishes you with the pleasure, but then his hand works around beneath you and his fingers quickly find your swollen and aching clit. You cry out, and one of your hands reaches back to cling to him, fingers clutching into his hair. He nips at your neck, chuckling darkly.

“My pretty girl, my good girl, taking my cock so well, you close?”

An immediate, “Uh huh,” is all you can manage.

“Then let go,” he commands, pinching your clit harshly.

You see stars, and you cry out for him.

Hearing you scream his name and feeling you clench around him is all he needs, and he pumps his cum into you, saying more dirty, filthy, possessive things, but you don’t know what the words are, because you’re completely lost to coherency.

He sinks his full weight on top of you when he’s completely spent.

Both of you are silent while you come down, heartrates returning to normal.

You wait for him to say whatever he’s going to torment you with next, but he doesn’t speak.

After more long moments, he finally pushes up enough to turn you from your front to your back. He cups your jaw again and strokes his thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitches at the intimate gesture in the aftermath.

“Aw, why are you crying now, sweetheart?”

No, you didn’t want more tears, and not these - the soft tears. You try to look away, but he forces your face back to look at him.

“I would have slept with you if you’d asked, Andy, why did you have to do it like this?”

“Because this is so much more than that, sweetheart. I didn’t want to just sleep with you, and I needed you to know from here on out that you’re mine. I own you. I’m very particular about what belongs to me. I didn’t want you to have any illusion that there’s a choice here.”

He brushes the tears off your cheek.

“I’ll have my men move your things here in the morning, and we’ll elope in a few weeks. I’m closing the deal on a resort in Lake Como, doesn’t that sound perfect? We’ll tie the knot and then spend our honeymoon there – we can stay all summer if you want.”

You hesitate.

“No one else is gonna take care of you like I do. Now I asked you, ‘doesn’t that sound perfect?’”

“Yes, Andy,” you whisper.

“Of course, it does.” He finally kisses you – and it’s dangerously soft. Warm lips engulfing yours, insistent, sucking your bottom lip between his. You whimper, and he licks his tongue into your mouth, lapping you up. He rolls over with you, putting him back on the mattress with you on his chest. He holds you pressed to him with one hand, the other hand securing your head so you can’t escape his kiss until he’s done kissing you.

It isn’t until you think you might pass out from how breathless you are that he finally breaks off the kiss. He shifts his pelvis up against you, his cock hardening again. “And I was serious about you carrying my child. But first you’ll ride my face until I’ve made you cry for a good reason, and then I’ll fill you up with more of my seed. You’re not leaving this bed the rest of the weekend.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

ARE YOU OKAY? AM I? DO WE EVEN CARE IF WE'RE OKAY?

read: -> THE MORNING AFTER

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You

Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!

Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+

You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.

It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.

That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.

“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.

“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.

After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.

You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.

You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.

“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.

The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.

You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.

Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.

You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened. 

[selfishdoll]

❛you gonna eat me out?❜ ━━ ft. geto suguru, gojo satoru, nanami kento, & kamo choso.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 SUMMARY. ━━ the silly tiktok trend i be seeing. woman pays & asks if she’s getting ate out tonight 💀

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING. ━━ mature & sexual content (obvi), ooc!characters, & minor voyuerism in geto’s.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 NOTE. ━━ a quick & stupid drabble i made during work. i don’t know if this needs to be said, but reader would have paid either way 😭. lowercase intended & please excuse typos or grammar mistakes <3

GETO SUGURU ✶ ˖ ›

the two of you had finally found some time for a date; both off work, the girls spending the night at their favorite uncle’s place.. you decided to treat your loving partner to a cute little wine and dine, something geto deeply appreciated.

the night went by smoothly, chatter and flirting illuminating the scene; all while the delicious food and wine filled your stomachs.

now it was time to pay, you reaching into your purse after assuring the check looked right. hand clasping the card, you blinked for a second before a little smile crossed your features.

you rose, looking at geto who was currently busy scrolling on his phone, waiting on you. “suguru.” you called out, his dark eyes instantly flicking to you. you tapped the card against the table, pretty smirk stretched across sparkly glossed lips. “you eating me out tonight?” your eyebrows rose as the question exited your lips, spotting a reddish hue form across his cheeks.

your question had taken him by surprise, clearly, the man setting his phone down for a moment. finally suguru chuckled a little, back straightening in his seat. “if you don’t want me to do it here, i suggest you hurry up and pay.”

you didn’t need to be told twice, tapping your card against the machine— watching as it swirled before confirming your payment. you jumped from your seat whilst grabbing your things, suguru following close behind you.

you gave the staff quick goodbyes and thank yous, rushing towards your car.

unfortunately you weren’t quick enough, given he was already pushing you away from the passenger to the back seat, ignoring your soft protests.

you had paid for your meal at about 8:30 and you didn’t leave the restaurant parking lot until 10:00.

GOJO SATORU ✶ ˖ ›

there were few times gojo ever let you pay for anything, especially on date nights. he likes to spoil you and will protest if you even mention paying for yourself or him. tonight was different, you were adamant on paying for dinner and was not taking no for an answer.

he was stubborn, but you were much worse.

after the enjoyable night of his witty jokes and swatting his wandering hand under the table, it was time to pay. gojo was currently glancing over the dessert menu while you were busy grabbing your card from your purse.

whilst searching for it, the words slipped out your lips as smooth as honey.

“you eating me out tonight?”

without missing a beat, the man answered matter of factly; “well, i do need a dessert.”

the words had you stammering, suddenly clammy hand finally gripping the card and turning to spot the man grinning at you. of course when you try to fluster him, he’s turning the tables on you.

“i hate you.” you spoke softly, tapping your card and placing it away once the payment was confirmed. satoru jumped up first, waiting patiently for you to grab your purse.

“no you don’t.”

NANAMI KENTO ✶ ˖ ›

date nights were far inbetween given your work schedules were always so different. on the days you had off he was working, and on the days you worked, he was off. it was a mess but there are times you made it work.

like today. nanami was adamant on going to dinner with you, despite how tired he was. you felt a little bad watching him push himself but he only mumbled about being fine, and he wants to spend time with you.

the only plus side to times like this was he wasn’t as resistant as he usually was when it came to you paying for him.

you talked to kento inbetween grabbing your card from your bag, the man giving a few gruff hums and chuckles. as tired as he was, he wanted you to know he was still listening. pressing the card against the machine, you perked up and glanced at him. his eyes were closed, arms crossed while listening to you. you gave a small smile, letting the fated words spill from your mouth;

“you eating me out tonight, kento?”

“yes ma’am.”

you blinked wildly at this, tucking the card back into your purse. “did you hear what i said?”

kento nodded, closed eyes opening to look at you. “i did. come on.” he hummed, rising from his chair— you following close behind. his hand found the small of your back, leading you out of the restaurant — stopping to say thank you and goodbye to the waiters — and to the car.

the ride back home was calm and silent, on kento’s part, given your little heart was pounding against your chest.

needless to say, no matter how tired kento is.. he keeps his word.

KAMO CHOSO ✶ ˖ ›

choso pretends he doesn’t mind you paying for things, but will definitely nudge your hand away when you try to do so. fortunately he allowed you to pay, reluctantly, of course.

you smiled at the man as his lips clasped around the spoon you held, enjoying the ice cream as it melted in his mouth. pulling your hand back, you placed the spoon down and reached for the little machine parked at the end of your table.

nodding to yourself after looking over the check, you reached for your card, choso resting against the chair with a soft hum; patiently waiting.

whilst grabbing the card the little idea popped into your mind, turning to your boyfriend with a delicious smile. one he rose an eyebrow at.

“you eating me out tonight?”

this only furthered his confusion, covered arms crossed across his chest. “don’t i always?” he spoke in a mumble, wondering if you had some sort of brain damage.

“well yeah, i was ju—“

“i get it.” choso interrupted before you could finish, raising from the booth once you were done paying. “guess i fucked you too dumb earlier. don’t worry, i’ll just have you come on my tongue as many times as it takes to jog your memory.”

needless to say, choso got his fill and then some.

reblogs & comments are welcomed & appreciated <3

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Pup Code (18+)

(SEQUEL TO GIRL CODE. Y/N IS NOT THE SAME PERSON)

pairing: college!mingyu x college!reader

genre: college au, smut (MDNI), fluff, crack

description: mingyu doesn't have crushes. he likes avril lavigne and sometimes he fucks pretty girls. but you seem to stir something in him that no one else can. without the trusty girl code, mingyu makes his own code to help you fall in love with him.

warnings: kindddaaa bad writing tihi, service top!mingyu, dom!mingyu, sub!reader ish, size kink (reader is mentioned several times to be smaller than mingyu and several key interactions are based on this fact), oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (dont do it guys...), praise (f. receiving), slight possessiveness?, mingu is soooo in love with y/n, he just wants to make her cum forever :( hes a total dork

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "fuck realistic portrayals of sex with men. im very content with getting exposed to this", "men like this DONT exist",

wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: im back and i think ive regained my ability to write. thank u 2 @ryusha-rose for the amazing name for this fic, it ended up becoming a bigger part of the plot, so thank u sm to them tihihihi

This could not be happening.

Forever boring and bland, his friends had opted out of the party, and Mingyu stayed behind alone. Or not alone. He almost wished he were alone, because almost any company (even none!) was better than sitting across from the two idiots before him.

“Truth or dare, Mingyu!” Josh laughed smugly, and Jeonghan held his hand over his mouth, leaning into him. “Ohhhh, truth or dare!” 

Mingyu had been down this road before. There was no winning in this scenario, Josh and Jeonghan always attempting to pry embarrassing information from him. 

The party had settled down into a low hum. Most people were going home, either humping against another anonymous body as they stumbled out, or walking alone, jacket slung over their arm. There was no reason to stay, really, and torture himself with this circle of hell. Except, of course, for you.

“I don’t wanna do the chicken dance again, so I’m gonna go with truth,” Mingyu pursed his lips, determined to not act a fool in front of you.

He’d always been vaguely aware of you, but tonight had been his first time really sitting down with you. Contrary to your two best friends, you were cool and charming, and you didn’t seem like you wanted to embarrass him. This was already gaining you Mingyu-points, but he was absolutely taken aback by your humor and your smile and he, giddily, found himself liking you. 

Mingyu didn’t usually like people - not like he had always liked Avril Lavigne (there was a poster commemorating that crush in his dorm room) - so this felt big. He was nervous, hands clammy as they slid down his jeans. 

“Tell us about your first time,” Joshua asked innocently, mischief given away by how the older man cackled and slapped his arm. You watched in amusement, eyes flickering over to him, lashes coming over them in long, black lengths. He struggled to breathe when you held his eyes, so he sucked in a breath and looked at the floor, blushing. Damn it, he was already making a fool of himself.

“That’s so rude, Josh!” you said and threw a random chip at him. It hit him on the cheek and he groaned, face scrunching up in disgust. “Ask him something nicer.” 

“You’re so boring, Y/n.” 

Mingyu looked at you gratefully and you returned a warm smile to him.

“Yuck!” Jeonghan quacked from his seat between you and Josh. “You guys get a room! I can’t believe I let this stupid kids’ game take away from my boning.” 

“You’re so gross!” you groaned. 

“Josh was gonna hook me up with this girl from his class, dude,” Jeonghan continued complaining, forever going on about his ‘sexual conquests’. “Now I’m sitting with you dorks and you won’t even let us bully Mingyu.”

“Mingyu’s nice, you guys are just assholes,” you said, gesturing towards Mingyu with your beer. Mingyu was horrified.

Now was the time. Now was the moment to return the compliment; to say anything that might flatter you and defend you from the crooks that you apparently spent your time with. 

Now, this was a bit embarrassing for Mingyu. He had recently been adopted by a female friend group - some might even call him one of the girls, but alas! - so one would think he knew all about girls and how to approach them. The truth was, Mingyu was clueless. Beyond his daydreams of Avril Lavigne, and a few casual flings here and there, he had never actually been put in this situation. 

Mingyu thought about his girl-friends, thought about their advice and their critiques, and he knew. He knew it would frankly disappoint them if he came to them with no expertise, nothing learned from the countless girls’ nights. Therefore, he had to take matters into his own hands. 

“T-Thanks,” Mingu stuttered, lisping across the word. “Y-You’re also great.” 

Fuck, he was an idiot. 

You grinned at him and the sight of your beautiful smile, your shining skin and your gently falling hair was almost enough for him to miss how Josh and Jeonghan were lifting themselves off the floor in disgusted groans. 

“Alright, time to go. Shoo now, back to your dorms. Peasants.”  _____________________________

Mingyu didn’t need his girl-friends. 

He repeated this in his head for days, like a spiritual mantra, and maybe, he hoped, maybe he would start believing it. You and him had one mutual class and he counted down the days before he could swoop in and talk to you casually, flirtatiously, and seductively. 

With the absence of the very helpful girl code (it had certainly helped his friend, Jihoon, with his crush!) Mingyu discovered and consulted a new code. Mingyu code. 

He spent his days diligently writing down his own best advice. Some rules were more helpful than others.

“Mingyu code rule 3: always wash your hands after a shower,” he hummed to himself with a small, satisfied smile, while scrubbing his hands in the steamed up bathroom. 

“Mingyu code rule 12: go on bike rides frequently for a better jawline!” he panted, hunched over his bike, and pedalling through the nearby park in the beating sun. 

Now, Mingyu was mumbling all of his new-found rules to himself, books pressed into his chest, while he approached you in class. It was the middle of the day, and the class hadn’t started yet, people still filing in from the halls. Thankfully, you were sitting alone on your phone, both Jeonghan and Joshua nowhere to be seen. The universe was working with him.

But he was still sweaty and nervous and breathing unevenly when he finally reached you. Remember the code, he reminded himself, remember to be cool and calm.

“Hey...” he whispered, and then, louder: “Hey.” 

You looked up from your phone, smiling brightly when you saw him. For such a huge man, you realized he could look quite small. 

“Hey, Mingyu!” you said cheerfully, settling your phone down on the table before you. He shuffled to sit down next to you, jacket rustling against the wood. Your seat was near the back, so the hall felt great and wide, and a little bit like an audience to his fumbling. 

Rule 14, he remembered sneakily, always wear a jacket, so girls (Y/n) will marvel at your muscles when you take it off! 

Mingyu moved to take off his jacket, eyeing you as he did so, in what he certainly thought was a sultry and sexy look. You blinked back up at him, smiling.

Oh shit. 

Something was caught on- on something! Stuck with the jacket halfway down his arm, Mingyu began struggling and writhing in it, warmth spreading across his cheeks. You smiled at him fondly, biting back a chuckle. 

“Do you need help?” you asked. “No- No, I got it, uh-”

You moved to help anyway, tugging a corner of the jacket off the design of the chair, and he stared at you widely, because you were suddenly so close to him and so cool and calm and pretty, and your fingers danced along his skin. He breathed out a heavy sigh when it finally slid off his arms, furrowing his brows in embarrassment.

“You’re clumsy, huh?” you teased, settling back in your seat and Mingyu chuckled dryly. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” he murmured, and to his delight and surprise, you laughed. You had a loud laugh. It ripped itself from your throat and bounced off the walls of the classroom. He smiled proudly at how your face contorted in joy. 

“You’re funny, Gyu,” you said, stilling finally and he swore his heart galloped in his chest at the nickname. You were so pretty and so sweet, and he wanted to hug you so bad. He grinned, then looked around the room.

“Where are Joshua and Jeonghan?” 

“God knows,” you snorted. “I think they’re poisoning the water supply of some third world country, but I could be wrong.” 

It was Mingyu’s turn to laugh, and how couldn’t he? Because you were so smart and so gorgeous, and he truly didn’t understand how he was smitten by you so fast. There was something humbling about spending all his freetime scrolling through Instagram photos and giggling when you smiled prettily at the camera. 

Next step in Mingyu code was a little tip he’d borrowed from the countless renditions and repeats of the “Jihoon story”; a heartfelt confession.

Wait a minute. Was he skipping a few steps? Surely- Oh yeah, he definitely was. He couldn’t help but want to skip to cuddling, but going from step one to seven was maybe a bit of a stretch. Jogging his brain for his ultimate “confession for Y/n” gameplan, Mingyu didn’t even notice the lull in the conversation, while he stared at you with furrowed brows and a pout.

“So, uh,” you began awkwardly, and Mingyu finally snapped out of his daze. Shit, he was being a dork again. “You coming to the party on Friday?” 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there. Jus’.. Love partying.”

There was no salvaging this.

“Alright,” you giggled, confused, and finally turned your eyes to the board when the professor began speaking.

Friday, he thought, gulping down the shame. Friday I make some serious moves. _____________________________

Mingyu was not making serious moves. In fact, he wasn’t making any moves at all.

He’d never felt more strange, standing on the edge of the dancefloor and bending his knees awkwardly to the rhythm of the music. His limbs were mile long stretches and they swung uselessly around him. He looked almost lost, but, of course, it was only Soonyoung’s house. 

“You okay, man?” Wonwoo, his roommate, padded up beside him, eyeing him warily through the lens of his glasses. “Are you on something?” 

“No, I’m not on something!” Mingyu huffed, stopping his frankly pathetic dance moves and looking directly at the man before him. “I just… You know that girl Josh and Jeonghan are always hanging out with?” 

Wonwoo nodded.

“I kind of.. Really.. Like her.”

“What?!” Wonwoo exclaimed, completely forgoing his drink to look at Mingyu in bewilderment. “You haven’t liked anyone since Avril Lavigne!” 

“I know! But this girl’s just really smart and cool and funny,” Mingyu smiled shyly, eyeing you where you sat with Josh and Jeonghan, as well as two girls he didn’t recognize  - oh, wait, no, Jeonghan and one of the girls were leaving together. Just you, Josh and the blonde then. Wait, no, now Josh was leaving with the blonde. Just you.

Wonwoo saw how Mingyu’s eyes brightened with opportunity and he smiled beneath the rim of his plastic cup.

“Wait! Wonwoo! You can wingman me!” Mingyu exclaimed suddenly, hoping the older man’s presence might ease the interaction. 

“What? No!” Wonwoo grimaced.

“Why not?”

“You don’t deserve my services, Mingyu! Not after what you did to me!” 

“We’ve talked about this, the Jihoon-story is a very sweet thing and you should be happy to have been a part of it-” 

“I’m talking about the other time. Or the other-other time!”

Mingyu slumped, a pout on his pink lips. Wonwoo softened, but stayed steadfast nonetheless.

“Listen, just go talk to her. I have a girl waiting for me upstairs, I just wanted to see if you were okay,” the older man said softly, patting his shoulder while a drink was clutched in his other hand, liquid dancing against the cup-walls when he wafted his hand.

“I would be more okay if you wing-manned me-” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wonwoo murmured, walking away towards the stairs. Mingyu sighed and looked over at you. You were chewing your lip, face lit by the screen of your phone. 

“Mingyu code rule 17: Confidence is key. Confidence is sexy,” Mingyu reminded himself, squeezing his eyes shut and beginning to walk over to you. “You’re hot, Mingyu. You have big muscles and a pretty face.”

Mingyu could’ve almost convinced himself, but when he opened his eyes, legs mindlessly padding closer to you, you were so pretty and so intoxicating, he faltered completely. 

“H-Hi,” he stammered, brows immediately pulling up in disdain at himself. You looked up and smiled immediately, face shining bright. “Hi, Gyu! Come sit down with me!” 

He nodded dumbly, and squeezed in beside you. His muscly arms were pressed into himself and leaning on his thighs, and he tried to compose his features into something sexy and sultry, when he turned to look at you. You smiled in a sort of knowing way that had Mingyu dropping his face immediately. 

“You enjoying the party?” he rasped, turning to look out at the crowd. You pursed your lips and looked at it with him. “Not sure. It’s kind of boring and Josh and Jeonghan just left.” 

“Yeah, I saw,” he sighed, then widened his eyes. Oh God, he thought, what if you thought he was a total creep - a creepster - staring at you from across the room all creepily. “Not that I- I wasn’t- I just saw it, like, casually across the roo-” 

“Mingyu, do you want to take me out on a date?” 

Huh?

“Huh?” 

Mingyu didn’t know if he was hearing that right. The words had come so naturally and so casually from your mouth, and now you were staring at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips, and waiting expectantly for him to answer. 

“Do you want to take me out on a date?” you repeated, shrugging your shoulders, as if it were just the weather. Mingyu stared at you with whole, wide eyes, and swallowed hard. Clammy hands gripped his knees.

“Yeah,” he breathed, laughing awkwardly. His mouth was so dry and his heartbeat was almost painful in his chest, although the tensions were eased when smiled sympathetically. “I mean- if you want to-” 

“I want to go on a date with you too, Mingyu,” you reassured, smiling even wider when his lips mimicked your own. 

“Oh my God, okay, so, I was thinking Olive Garden-” Mingyu giggled, and his pure expression of joy was infectious, genuinely making your heart soar, as this huge, muscly man bounced on the couch cushions. He cut himself off halfway, narrowing his eyes. “Wait, wait, how did you know?” 

“How did I know what?” you frowned.

“That I like you?” 

Your immediate reaction was to snort. This only confused Mingyu further, so you elected to respond truthfully: “Mingyu, you always look at me so longingly, seriously-”

“That- those were sexy faces!” he pouted. 

“No, they were longing and tender. Like pull-apart meat. And then sometimes you do the- the Zoolander face-” 

“I’ve never done the Zoolander face in my life!” 

“And all your moves are so obvious, Gyu,” you watched how he slumped at those comments, a little, pitiful pout on his lips, all deflated like a puppy. You reached a hand over to caress his arm, warm and hard with muscle under your fingertips. Mingyu immediately leaned into your touch, pout being replaced with a small goofy smile. “It was very endearing, though. You’re very cute.” 

“I was going for sexy,” Mingyu said, mood lifted at your compliment, but still a little pouty.

“Then go sexy on our date,” you squeezed his bicep in your hand and he perked up. “Now that you know I like you too.” 

Hearing those words, that admission, Mingyu smiled to himself. 

Mingyu Code; he truly was genius. _____________________________

“So no Olive Garden?” you quipped, standing outside of a more upscale restaurant - candlelit and warm and Italian. Mingyu shook his head. He’d thought Olive Garden would woo any girl, but after triumphantly boasting to his girl-friends (mothers), that he’d gotten a date with a girl he liked, he’d been nothing but scolded by the restaurant choice (“A girl wants to feel pampered! Olive Garden is for post-6-month-relationships!” Yeri had squawked). 

“Not until in six months,” Mingyu said, shrugging when you lifted a brow in question. Cars were bustling past where you were standing on the sidewalk. Grass sprouted from the cracks in the cement and people idled past where the two of you were facing each other, your head craning up to his. “Wanna go inside?” he asked.

Mingyu had become more at ease, following your admission. You liked him too, he tried to remember, whenever the butterflies batting around his curving ribcage became too much. And it was becoming too much now, with how your lips spread in a smile and you nodded at him.

You walked in, hand in hand. The tables were fine, polished wood and there was a slightly-stained, white tablecloth draped over the rounded surface of the table. Sneakily, Mingyu nudged some salt and pepper shakers over the yellow splotches on the fabric, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and that you’d feel pampered. You were busy looking at the menu. 

Mingyu asked about everything - not because of Girl Code or Mingyu Code or whatever other bullshit way to woo a woman. No, he asked because he was sincerely and utterly interested in you, what made you you, what habits you got from your childhood, what made you choose your major, how you knew Josh and Jeonghan. You were so beautiful in the light of the restaurant, but more importantly, you were the most infatuating individual Mingyu had ever laid his eyes on. Maybe even more so than Avril Lavigne. 

You got to talking about Mingyu Code. 

“Well, it was because of my friends. They have Girl Code, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s God’s rules,” you hummed, sipping on a soda. 

“Mhm, and my friend followed Girl Code and he got with this girl he really liked.” 

“Mhm.” 

“But I decided to make Mingyu Code. Which is about being sexy and charming.” 

“You were none of those things,” you teased, but Mingyu had gained confidence and he leaned back in his seat with a smirk, stretching out his arms, as if gesturing to the restaurant. 

“Well, I beg to differ. You’re here now, aren’t you?” 

“I suppose I am,” you smiled, admitting defeat. “Although I don’t think you were following Mingyu Code.” 

“Yes, I was, I made it. I’m the founder of that shit,” Mingyu grimaced.

“Well, if Mingyu Code is about being sexy, then you definitely accidentally followed some other code.”

“Wha-”

“Puppy code. You’re like a big, clumsy puppy. Yeah,” you nodded to yourself, satisfied with your new name for Mingyu’s terrible, horrible guide to wooing you. “Pup Code.” 

“Why does everyone call me that?” Mingyu whined, crossing his arms and pouting. Your plates were empty and streaks of cream sauce sludged up the sides of the porcelain. 

“You give off major himbo vibes,” you said.

“I’m smart, though,” Mingyu huffed. You smiled fondly at his bratty expression. 

“I know you are.” 

Mingyu caught your eye and caught the sincerity in them, and it made his whole body ache and flutter. You liked him too, it was clear and not something Mingyu had to tell himself, it was right there, right behind your retina, twinkling at him. 

“Do you wanna..?” Mingyu trailed off, pointing his thumb to the door. You pursed your lips.

“What if I wanna take it slow?” You asked, and it was almost adorable how Mingyu’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently and seriously. 

“That’s okay! We can- we can totally do that,” he said decidedly, as if it weren’t a bother at all (because it wasn’t). 

“Okay,” you nodded, letting go of your now finished drink. “But if I want you to take me to your room right now and fuck me?”

Mingyu whipped his head to yours, the way a door bursts open. You saw him swallow, throat dry and heavy, and biting his lip.

“That- That would be okay, too,” Mingyu said shakily, blushing furiously. Images flashed his mind of you in less-than-sacred scenarios, and he squeezed his eyes shut to ward them away. 

“Okay, then let’s go,” you shrugged nonchalantly. 

“To my room?” He almost couldn’t believe it.

“Yes.” 

“Okay, fuck, let me just pay.”

Mingyu didn’t think he’d ever paid and left a restaurant so fast, and he was enamored with you enough to completely skip the step where he contemplated whether or not the staff secretly hated him. You and him walked hand in hand, as he practically dragged you through the street back to the dorms, his long legs working faster and more efficiently than your own. You half wanted to complain at the brutal pace, but you couldn’t lie. You needed him just as much as he needed you. And he knew that too. 

Thankfully the restaurant wasn’t too far from the dorms, and Mingyu had frantically texted Wonwoo to “get out or he’d be squirted with semen” (a threat that Wonwoo didn’t need to hear twice!), so after ten minutes and some sore legs on your part, Mingyu and you scrambled into his room.

Mingyu liked the privacy, you realized, because it wasn’t until the door was closed, and you both were sealed away in the Mingyu-zone, that he finally walked up to you, hands finding your waist with a confidence you didn’t think possible for him.

“Can I kiss you now?” he whispered, somewhat out of breath from the climb up the stairs. You smiled at him. “I’d be mad if you didn’t.” 

And then he pounced. His plush lips were soft and well-moisturized, and his annoying, perfect nose brushed against yours; in fact his whole stupidly gorgeous face was pressed into yours, as your lips thrummed together, and you were conjoined into one being by the lips. 

His hands ran up and down your sides, finally taking hold firmly, only to pull you into his lap when he settled on the edge of his bed. You straddled his lap, as your lips danced, his tongue peeking out to enter your mouth. You moaned gratefully. Involuntarily, your hips rolled into his, and the jolt reverberated all the way up to his lips where he cried out and panted against your mouth. 

“You’re so pretty,” he said in between heated kisses. 

“So are you,” you said. He pulled away and smiled up at you, and he was truly worthy of the puppy-title, because his grin was so goofy and his eyes twinkled and he was so warm against you, it almost hurt. 

Carefully, he pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts over your t-shirt, looking up at you with wide, brown eyes. “Can I eat you out?” 

The way he said it like he was completely and totally enamored with you (he was), like it was in this very moment of sitting on his lip and running your hands up his huge arms, that he was falling in love with you (it was), almost made you bashful. Your smile, usually cheeky and teasing, came small and shy. 

“Yeah, I-I wouldn’t mind that at all,” you responded, cursing at yourself for letting your confidence falter. However joy spread on Mingyu’s face like the ever-expanding universe spreads into endless empty space, because for once the tables were turned, and you were right underneath his hands, and he was flustering you. 

It had him pushing you onto his bed, head falling into the depths of his pillow, and working at your skirt to shimmy it down your legs. You lifted your hips in help and soon enough that and your shirt was discarded on the floor. Mingyu, with his black tee and his big arms and his sweetest-hottest face on Earth, settled between your legs with a dumb grin. 

“I can’t believe-” he cut himself off with a satisfied sigh, staring at your pussy. You were pushing yourself up by your arms, looking at the man-child between your legs just staring at your core as if it were his most prized possession. “I-I can’t believe I get to have you like this. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Mingyu’s face fell (it was almost comical), and his eyes snapped up to yours. “Wait, are you mine? You are mine, right?” 

You giggled fondly. “Yeah, I’m yours, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu’s grin returned immediately and he nodded happily, eyes turning back to your pussy. 

“It’s so pretty,” he sighed, fangs poking out where his smile ended. One finger ran through your folds, wet from the making out and all the heated stares from lovedumb Mingyu. You whined a little at the pressure when his finger reached your clit. He was so close you could feel him panting against it. 

“Mingyu, please, stop staring at it, and do something,” you cried and Mingyu pursed his lips and nodded. “Right, yeah, sorry.” 

And then he dived in. 

His nose pressed into your clit as soon as he pushed his head in, tongue stuck out to lick at your folds. Your hands flew to his hair, a desperate moan leaving you. It was a little embarrassing how loud he was, huffing and puffing at your pussy, but you couldn’t complain when his tongue traced up from your hole to your clit, lips wrapping around it. 

“A-Aah, M-Mingyu-” you cried and pushed his head further into your core, while your hips canted off the mattress. The press of his nose was amazing, and his breaths danced across your nerves. “S-Shit, that feels so good.” 

Mingyu was totally lost in you though. Your taste on his tongue, your soft thighs underneath his hands where he pushed you apart, your moans, and the desperation in your movements. The fact that you were so catty and witty, but with a few flicks of his tongue, your facade fell and you became a whiny, desperate mess, begging for him. And he loved to give it to you. He loved that you felt good, he loved being the one to make you feel good. Lapping and panting into your pussy, Mingyu started to think he didn’t ever need to leave. You could just feel good forever! The logic was flawless.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried and you came on his tongue, cum seeping out of your sopping pussy. Mingyu, strong and tan and shiny Mingyu, didn’t stop though. Too enchanted by your soft moans and your nail in his roots, and your juices on his lips, he kept at it, tongue-fucking you to slurp up the cum. 

“M-Mingyu-” you whimpered softly, and his only response was a grunt, and one hand sliding off your thighs to prod at your entrance. “M-Mingyu, I-I already came!” you cried, more insistent. 

“You can cum again,” he mumbled gruffly, two fingers pushing into you. The feeling was so intense your voice became strangled and your chest pushed off his bed.

“Just say if you wanna stop, then I’ll stop,” his tone was almost challenging, as he pulled his face away from your dripping pussy and his fingers stilled inside you to give you a chance to answer. You looked down at him, panting, as he waited expectantly. Your ‘stop’ didn’t come. 

“That’s what I thought,” Mingyu grinned again, and God, this time it was sexy; not endearing, not awkward, not clumsy. It was so incredibly hot and he dived right back to your pussy, tongue swaddling your folds and fingers beginning to pump in and out. 

Your clit grinded against his face, slick smearing all over him, but he didn’t seem to care one bit, your cum on his cheek and two fingers working inside you, curling into your g-spot. “Cum again,” he gasped in between sucking on your clit with pointed lips. “Cum again, I wanna hear it again. You sounded so pretty, please, cum again. On my fingers now.” 

And he was rambling for sure, but it was working for you, because for the second time that night, a knot tightened in your belly and the string were pulled tighter and tighter with each lick and suck, and eventually it snapped, and your whole body spasmed and your pussy pulsated around his thick fingers. 

This time, he did stop. You closed your eyes and heaved for air, lying completely still in the sheets of his bed and panting for air. Mingyu smiled cheekily, pulling his fingers out of your sensitive pussy and licking them clean. As if it was nothing. As if it was juice from a popsicle, his tongue peaked out and he sucked your essence off of them, groaning at its taste. 

“Can you go on again? You taste so good,” he hummed, eyeing your fucked-out state. Your cheeks were flushed and strands of hair stuck to your sweaty face. You shook your head. “No, no, I want your cock now.” 

“Anything for you,” Mingyu agreed, shuffling to take his clothes off while you regrouped. 

It was not long before he was climbing over your body, so fucking huge and covering your entire form in his own, muscles flexing when he lowered himself onto you. As if by nature, Mingyu, tan and glistening in the bedside lamp, grabbed you by under your knees and pushed them to your chest, pressing them into you. 

“Wanna fuck you like this,” he pressed a kiss to one of the knees that was now folded over you. “Can I fuck you like this?” 

“Please!” you sobbed, because the position, and his strong hands holding you there, and your own slick covering his face had your pussy dripping onto his bed, and you could practically feel the heavy presence of his dick, even if it wasn’t touching you yet. 

Mingyu tilted his head as he looked down at you. You were so easy to admire. It was so easy for him to fall into every little jerk and breath and crevice of your face, and you looked so beautiful underneath him, Mingyu started to think he wanted nothing more for the rest of his life than to make you feel this good. 

“Okay,” he whispered, and only then did you notice how he stared at you, because there was something very tender in his voice. Adoration poured directly from his heart and into you.

Before you could get lost in his warm eyes, he moved one hand down to steer his dick into you. You cried out when you felt it pressing against your slit, cried even more when it started pressing into you. 

You had suspected Mingyu might be big, but nothing could’ve prepared you for each inch that seemed to endlessly plunge into your heat. Stretching you out like a rubber band, Mingyu finally bottomed out in you, his hard pelvis resting against your mound. 

“Shit, Gyu, y-you’re so fucking big,” you gasped, and then opened your eyes to see him smirking proudly. It made you giggle. He hummed giddily, looking down at your stomach. 

“You’re just so fucking small,” he said then, pressing one hand to your stomach, and then groaning when he could feel his dick inside you. “Shit.” 

At that, Mingyu started pounding into you. His pace was fucking relentlessly, something seemingly awakened in him at the bulging in your stomach. “Shit, shit, shit, my tiny, pretty baby, fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

The praise had you reeling into him, it had you crying out and gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, while he worked up a sweat pistoning in and out of your pussy. You moans were shaken from the impact of his dick in your pussy. “Shit, so fucking tight, can hardly fucking take me.” 

“G-Gyu, f-fuck-” 

“But you’ll take it, hm? Fuck, I wanna make you cum so much more, jus’ have you in my room, making you cum over n’ over again. Shit.” 

You had not pegged Mingyu as a dirty talker, and you weren’t even sure if he was aware of what he was doing. Something about having his dick inside you, warm walls just pulled one dirty slew of words out after another. He’d never fucked a girl like this, never felt compelled to tell her exactly what she was doing to him. Not like with you.

You were so gorgeous to him, the way your chest bounced, and your eyes were screwed shut and how your mouth was opened in continuous, strained moans. It was how your hair bunched up on his pillow, and how your skin felt against his, and how you clenched at every word he spewed, while grinded into you like you were the only other person in the world. 

“F-fuck, my pretty fucking baby, you’re mine, right? Say it and I’ll make you cum forever, jus’-” he groaned, as your pussy clenched down on him extra tight. His pace fell and his hands on your knees dug into the skin. “Jus’ say you’re mine, please, Y/n.” 

“I-I’m yours, Gyu!” you cried out, his pace speeding up again and another orgasm bubbled in your stomach, and you pussy clenched embarrassingly hard for embarrassingly long. “Only yours, fuck.” 

“That’s right. Cum again, let- let me hear it one more time, yeah?” 

You came. Again. Clenching down so hard, and face twisting in pleasure, cum spilled out of you and coated his dick, still inside you.

Your third orgasm was a melodious song, and you moaned to it so loudly, you knew people three halls over would be wondering what was going on. But you could care less, letting his presence, his smell, his being above you drag more bursts of pleasure out of your body. 

Your breathing calmed down again, your soul traveling down from a sky-high mountain, and you started to feel it all again. Your orgasm had been so blinding, you had lost all of your senses but the blinding white explosion in your stomach, and now sighed heavily, pushing yourself up a little.

To your surprise, Mingyu’s hold on your knees didn’t let up, and it took you a moment to realize that his dick was still extremely hard inside you. He hadn’t cum yet.

“Want you to cum again,” Mingyu smiled sheepishly, adjusting his position to be able to pound into you again. You looked at him incredulously, and he chuckled a little, shrugging. “Just say if you want to stop.”

“Safe word is ‘pup’.” 

[sunraies]

If your taking requests could you write buzzcut Rafe cameron x reader

Rafe being wiped for reader + reader being his passenger princess

No one is allowed to drive or sit in the front except her. If his going to a party with his friends they need to sit in the back because the front seat is her's

And if he is ever looking for a new car she needs to go with him so she can pick the one she likes couse it's "there" car and his girl needs to love it otherwise it's returned before you can blink

-🍷🍷

I absolutely love this idea! I hope I haven't completely butchered it x

Passenger Princess

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings - Fluff, small moment of pain.

As requested above

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Ever since your first date, Rafe didn't let anyone in the front seat. He would happily feel like chauffeur if it meant that the front passager seat was always yours.

"In the back, man," Rafe told Topper as he opened the passenger door.

"Wh. What?" Topper frowned, looking into the car and finding Kelce already sat in the back, who shook his head.

"Get in the back." Rafe looked at him like he was stupid.

"You can't be serious. It's just us three"

"It's my girl's seat"

"She's not even here," Topper protested and looked to Kelce for help.

"I tried, my dude. Just go with the crazy, "  Kelce shrugged.

"She will be later, and I don't want you musty ass on it." Rafe was deathly serious as Topper stared at him, like he'd grown two heads. "Get in the back or find another way,"

Rafe had offered them a lift to the main land as he was going to pick you up from a night out.

"Jesus, girl got you pussy whipped" Topper grumbled as he climbed into the back.

"How's that whiplash from Sarah feeling?" Rafe immediately shot back with a smirk as he glanced back in the rear view mirror.

○●○●○

The front seat of his car was truly yours. The glove box held your favourite hand cream and lip gloss, along with a few snacks. Which you happily munched on after Rafe picked you and Sarah up from the club.

You had been on the main land, celebrating a friends birthday. You had texted him that you were done way before the night was planned to be over. The crowded club, the music, and the lights all too much without him there. Even when Rafe arrived with Topper and Kelce, you just wanted to go home and what his girl wanted, she got.

"You good, baby?" He asked, glancing over at you as you had made yourself comfortable.

You nodded as you sat curled up his jacket while his hand rested in your thigh, his thumb gently stroking your exposed skin.

As Sarah slept in the back, you gently ran your nails on the up the back of his neck, lovely that his buzzcut gave you better access to his scalp. Your nails made him hum and smile.

"Thank you for getting us, handsome," you said softly and kissed his cheek as you leaned over the centre console.

"Of course, I would come get you, baby." He took your hand and  kissed your knuckles as he watched the road.

○●○●○

"Rafe, why are we at a car showroom?" You asked, as you sipped on an ice latte he brought you on the way.

He just smiled at you as he pulled into the parking lot. Every expensive make of car you could think of was there, all brand new and ready for Rafe to buy.

"Honestly, baby. Why are we here?" You asked, getting out of the car as he held the door open for you.

You felt very undressed in your crop top and shorts, while Rafe looked perfectly in place with his checkered shirt, chinos, and designer shades over his eyes.

"We are getting a new car, baby girl." He smirked and wrapped an arm over your shoulders as he walked you towards the showroom doors.

"Good afternoon, Mr Cameron. It's a pleasure to see you again. How may I help you?" A middle-aged man, in a perfectly ironed suit and tie, greeted Rafe.

"Help my girl with whatever she wants." Rafe politely shook his hand before resting his hand on your lower back.

The salesman was a little taken aback but quickly recovered and nodded before happily showing you to any car you liked the look of.

○●○●○

You loved Rafe's new car. It had all sorts of amazing controls that you happily played with every time you were in the car.

You loved the led lights on the floor and the way the speakers sounded. The heated seats and air vents were set just right for your comfort. It was so perfect that for the first week, you asked Rafe to go for a drive almost every day.

On a very hot day, you found a fault with it, but you didn't want to tell Rafe. You desperately tried not to wince every time you moved.

"What's wrong, baby?" Rafe asked, noticing how tense you were. You hadn't moved to play with the studio or grab your drink for a little while.

"Nothing." You smiled at him and played with his hand that had been in its normal place on your thigh.

Rafe looked you up and down before humming. Once it was safe to pull over, he did, turning off the engine and facing you.

"Something is wrong. What is it?" His tone was gentle but demanding.

You sighed, looking down at his hands. "You know. You know, I absolutely love this car, right?"

He nodded and gave you an encouraging look to continue, "But? I feel like there's a but there"

"But." You sighed. "The leather seats aren't the most comfortable with shorts on"

Most comfortable was an understatement, with the leather having been in the sun and you in shorts. It felt like the back of your thighs were on fire.

Rafe frowned before getting out and coming around to your door  "Get up, baby"

You shook your head, scared you would leave a layer of skin behind.

"Babygirl, I can't fix the problem if you don't get up," He said softly.

Moving off the seat was just as painful as you imagined. You winced in pain as you took Rafe's hand before looking to see the damage. Surprisingly, the seat was clear of skin, but damn, did you thighs burn.

"Jesus, baby," Rafe squatted down and gently touched your sore skin.

When you whimpered, he placed a gentle kiss on both before standing up. "Stay there"

He quickly opened the boot and grabbed the hoodie he always kept in the car for you. He placed it on the seat, making sure every bit of leather was covered before letting you back in the car.

Your plans for that afternoon changed there and then. Rafe drove right back to the showroom and demanded fabric seats in any pattern and colour of your choosing.

[yanderenightmare]

How does Shiggy react to a darling who developed Stockholm Syndrome?

Shigaraki Tomura

TW: NSFW, captive darling, Stockholm Syndrome, ish benevolent sexism

fem reader

You kissed him a little while back.

It was strange, as though you’d forgotten yourself – lost yourself in the heat of the moment. But no, it had been deliberate and long-lasting – earnest and needy even. And had rendered him both speechless and in a panic.

He’d entered the room in a rigid mood and woken you up with a bite to your ass. Pulling your thighs snugly around him with his cock already swole between them – tugging your panties down your thighs while you were still rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a yawn. 

You’d learned rather quickly never to fight him. He’d punish you with bitemarks and no food, and ultimately you grew too weak to reject him anyway. So your casual acceptance wasn’t anything new where you patiently awaited getting fucked – lying on your back while looking down at his fat member disappearing inside you with only a tiny moan slipping free from your lips.

You took him obediently as you’d done for a while – without protest. The only difference occurred after he’d twisted the two of you around so you could straddle and ride him. You’d pressed your naked breasts into his chest and taken his face in your hands – gently as you rolled your hips without guidance – and then, right before the kiss, you’d said, so very softly, “I missed you today… it’s boring here without you~” 

Your voice was sultry, kissing him tender yet deeply – pouring sweet moans into his mouth while your hands tangled in his hair. 

You’d traveled to his neck after, and he came as soon as your tongue licked the scars found there – digging his fingers into the plush of your hips, keeping you seated as he spluttered all his worth inside you.

He’d been in such a state of post-shock that he’d rushed out just after. Leaving you.

Kurogiri had pointed out his blush while he sat at the bar, mulling it over with a bottle of brown in his grip. He shuddered, recurring the feeling – your pillowy wet lips on his, those words leaving your tongue, your hands playing with his hair, pulling him close. His chest felt tight, just as tight as the furrow between his brows.

Dabi sat down a couple of stools away sometime later in the night. Often, Shigaraki would abstain from engaging in conversation with the guy, but really, at least in this case, he was the best choice of any to ask for input. After all, they weren’t all that different. Actually, when it came to basics, they were both pretty similar – same-aged, ugly, and ridden with family issues from scars to fractured memories.

Dabi gave him a dumb look, his brow raised as though to ask what he was staring at after noticing his side-eye.

“You still have the same girl?” He jumped straight to it.

Dabi’s dumb expression turned dumber. Confused, maybe not so much by the question itself but by why the boss was even talking to him. But most emotions are like matches for Dabi, and they burn out before they’re able to light any fires. Soon, the usual sense of disinterest washed over him, and his face eased up into that chronic jaded look. 

Shigaraki nearly lost patience, reminded once again why he couldn’t stand the guy – rude as ever and so slow it made his skin itch. But then he gave his answer, “Yeah, I still have her.”

“She difficult?” Shigaraki followed up.

And Dabi took his time once again, hauling out the seconds before offering his answer in a drawl. “No, Stockholm Syndrome kicked in quickly.”

Shigaraki let it settle - Stockholm Syndrome – before looking back at his drink and repeating the thought once again. Stockholm Syndrome.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” He mumbled then.

Dabi sighed, taking a swig of his beer. It was already the third one, but he’d only been sitting there for about half an hour. “Not really…” He disagreed. “Most girls are better survivors.”

It was Shigaraki’s turn to look dumb, looking puzzled as he stared down the barrel to his bottle – in wait of an explanation – almost as though he was under the impression it was the drink who was speaking and not the patch-faced raven-head sitting beside him.

“They learn quickly to accept what will keep them safe, and then, they find solace in whatever they can to maintain their mental health as well…” Said raven-haired guy continued – then he scoffed. “Boys fight until they break. Leaving them a shell of what they once were. But girls don’t have the same pride.”

He swirled his bottle, stove-top blue eyes lazy, looking at the last of his drink storm with waves inside the green glass.

“They leave themselves behind and become someone new.” He offered a dry chuckle, and Shigaraki spotted the unsightly way his staples only barely held the split of his smile together. “It’s actually kind of scary.” He finished before downing the last gulp, setting the bottle down with a bang.

He swung off his stool, shoving his hands down his pockets, and walked away – his back turned.

“If I were you, I’d embrace it, boss. Despite what we try to believe, that shit feels best when it’s given willingly.”

Shigaraki sat there a moment longer. Long enough to get cut off by Kurogiri, who told him drinking anymore would be a bad idea.

When he got back to the room, you were sleeping again.

He stood and stared at you for a moment. 

Was this a game you were playing? Was it a joke?

You’d pulled on one of his hoodies. And upon a closer look, you hadn’t showered either… 

Strange of you to leave his cum inside you... 

But thinking back about it, you hadn’t been so distant with him for a while already. You’d been trivial – conversational – even chirpy, if he could call it that.

Was it like Dabi said? Had you reached your breaking point for loneliness, leaving him to be your only resource? Or had you accepted the circumstances and willed yourself to play along? 

He didn’t know, but the doubt stormed an upset in his mind as he lifted the covers and laid down next to you. But despite the exhaustion, the lure of sleep still wasn’t enough to make him close his eyes – he was stuck staring at you, mapping out all those qualities that make up your pretty face.

So deep in his studies, he nearly flinched when your eyes fluttered open.

A small smile graced your lips soon after. “You’re back…” You murmured, eyes softly blinking at him before you scooched closer – shimmying yourself over to him until you were all the way up against his chest, nuzzling your head against his collar with sleepy sounds of comfort. Resting there for a blissful moment before purring out a sweet “Good night~”

But he couldn’t sleep that night. Too busy listening to your soft snores – feeling the clingy way you clutched his cotton T-shirt.

He couldn’t bring himself to touch you either. For a long while – it was as though he was… scared almost. Freaked out by your doting – that way you’d hug him when he entered through the door – placing kisses on places he wasn’t used to – his cheek, his forehead, his neck, his knuckles. 

Grabbing his sleeve. “Don’t go, Tomura…” You said once when he had his hand on the doorknob and the key halfway twisted in the lock. “Please… don’t leave.”

His throat went tight. It had been like that for a while – ever since that first kiss, actually, he’d been unable to talk to you – unsure what to say.

But you hadn’t the same issue.

“You haven't touched me in a while…” You continued, taking his hand away from the doorknob in both yours, playing with his fingers – bringing it up to your face – you cuddled it like he’d not threatened you with his touch many many many times before. “Are you bored with me?” You asked instead of the obvious, keeping him at a loss for words. “Or… have I scared you away?”

You? Scared him?

Your lips brushed his fingers as one of your hands made a slow descent – making him jerk with a gasp as it went straight to cup his groin – tender yet firm, giving it a squeeze.

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay?” You said coyly, eyes doe-like but kittenish all the same, with a pouty and small smirk playing on your lips before you bit into them – brows cinching, giving him a flirty pleading expression. “Please, Tomura?” You said his name as though it didn’t belong to him. “It gets so lonely here…” You kissed his palm. “Won’t you give me a proper goodbye, at least?”