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heytheredelulu · 14 days

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I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #winter soldier x plus size reader #avengers fanfiction

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 1 year

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in my hearts of hearts I so deeply believe in the importance of more women shopping in the men's clothing section. particularly gender conforming cis women. hear me out:

pockets. pockets pockets pockets. huge pockets. even in skinny jeans and short shorts. pockets are high priority in men's clothes, and designers are not willing to sacrifice them unless absolutely necessary. even the pajamas and swimsuits have pockets big enough to hold your phone. the audacity

better quality & value. men's clothing is consistently made to last longer. you will find better fabric quality, craftsmanship, and general durability in the men's section.

"men's" clothes might fit you better. clothing is way more gender neutral than you've been taught to think. for dresses and stuff you'll still need the women's section, but you'd be surprised at how well "men's" pants, shorts, shirts, and jackets can fit different bodies. in fact, I would go so far as to say that men's clothes are designed to fit a wider variety of body sizes and shapes than women's clothes. if you are one of the many many women who don't fit the ridiculous cookie cutter mold of modern women's fashion, you may very well have better luck in the men's section.

(this includes people with big chests! being designed for broader shoulders also translates into extra tiddy storage space.)

(plus, universal sizing systems based on your actual measurements.) (pro tip for shorter folks: cuffing or hemming pants is the easiest alteration in the world. you can literally just use safety pins.)

you can still find "feminine" things. it's becoming easier & easier to find "men's" clothes in the bright colors/patterns, tighter fits, and shorter hems traditionally associated with women's fashion. shorts are particularly great--you can find lots of mid-thigh versions that are almost identical to women's shorts, but with bigger pockets and a little more coverage.

(also, as most trans people are already aware, people are pretty eager to assume that everyone around them is cis. I guarantee that you'd be shocked at how many people won't realize you're wearing "men's" clothes. they'll just see a women wearing clothing that fits.)

bonus: it's easier to find stuff that's not see-through/doesn't show bra straps. the irony of this is deeply insulting.

in general clothing manufacturers feel able to pull way more bullshit on female customers. a great way to tell them to FUCK OFF is by spending your money elsewhere. your life will become much comfier in the process!

WARNING: consistently shopping in the men's section may accustom you to new levels of comfort and lack of body-conciousness, and make it difficult for you to return to shopping in the women's section. you may find yourself no longer able to put up with previously normalized levels of bullshit. you may find yourself sewing huge pockets into skirts & dresses, because that is the new baseline you demand of all your outfits. these symptoms may become even more pronounced if you start wearing supportive wide-toed walking shoes.

#I'm not saying women should stop dressing as women #I'm saying many women would be dressing like better dressed women if more of their clothes came from the men's section #because men's clothing isn't designed for men. it's designed for people #and women's clothing. generally is not.#I'm generalizing but: men's clothes is more likely designed for people to live in #while women's clothing is often designed for objects to exist in. except those objects are our bodies

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straykeedz · 8 months

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𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ; 𝐬𝐜𝐛

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐳 ; 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬

𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; swearing; explicit mature content as in: oral sex & fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv sex (DON’T!!!), creampie; changbin calls reader princess during sexy time ; size kink i guess (reader is obsessed with changbin’s body, who can blame her???); thigh riding is mentioned; showering together; ♡

𝐰𝐜: 10,8k ;

🔖: @killzbabiexs ; ♡

check out my masterlist here ♡ check out the status of my wips here ♡

🗺️: 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬/𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

⚡︎

Changbin is tired.

He is tired of seeing you coming back after another unsuccessful date and sulk on your couch as if your life depends on some dude you met online. Or worse - seeing you hung up on some loser who ghosted you out of the blue. It drives him crazy. Plus, you only seem to find total jerks on that stupid app. Every time you show him a picture of a guy you’re talking to - Changbin has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at you and scoff. They’re all so… boring, and they look like total jerks - he’s convinced you deserve better.

Someone who would be by your side through thick and thin, somebody who would watch those sappy movies with you on the couch and who’d playfully make fun of your for crying when the characters finally together only to pull you close for a hug and smother you with kisses all over your pretty face. Someone like me, Changbin often thinks, but doesn’t dare to voice his thoughts - too scared to ruin things between you.

Tonight, you come home earlier than he expected you to, and he immediately knows something must have gone wrong. It is only twenty past ten, so there’s no way your date has actually gone well, considering the guy’d picked you up only two hours before.

You close the door with a loud thud, then remove your shoes without bothering to untie the laces. Changbin’s body jolts up and he quickly snaps his head in your direction at the sudden noise. He was sprawled on the couch, watching an episode of the series he’d recently started, and he was definitely not expecting you to come home so soon - otherwise he would’ve put on some decent clothes instead of lying there in just his blue sweats.

“Why are you naked?”, you frown as you remove your jeans jacket and hang it on the wall together with your purse.

Honestly - Changbin is shirtless a lot in your shared apartment, just never around you. At least, not intentionally. He’d usually go around like that whenever he is done with his workout session and right about to hop in the shower. Despite being your friend for years - Changbin still feels embarrassed to go around like that when you are in the apartment as well.

“Yah! I’m not naked!” Changbin protests, immediately turning away so that you are now facing his bare back and can’t see the way his cheeks are slowly heating up. Poor boy’s embarrassed. He immediately picks up his t-shirt and puts it back on, then turned to face you once again, hoping you won't notice how flustered he is. “Besides, why are you here so early?”

You sigh, and he immediately understands. So he sits up on the couch, pauses the tv show and pats the cushion, inviting you to sit next to him. Once you sit down, you immediately lean you head on his shoulder, and he puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”, he tests the waters.

You shake your head as a no. “Not really.”, you murmur. “I’m just disappointed, I guess. Thought the date was going fine.”, you let out a heavy sigh.

Changbin remains silent, not really knowing what to say that could make you feel better. He’s well aware that your hopes on that date were high, and it really crushes him to see you so disappointed and hurt over some jerk.

“Maybe it’s just me.”, you blurt out.

Changbin is confused. “What do you mean?”, he asks.

You lift your head from his shoulder and gently pull away, letting his arm fall back on the couch. “Maybe I am the problem.”, you clarify. “There must be something wrong with me.”

Changbin is now staring at you with wide eyes and his mouth agape. He must’ve misheard you, there’s no other plausible explanation. There’s no way you actually said that. And he can’t help but wonder why would you only go out with jerks who make you think you’re not good enough for them.

“Yah, stop that right now.” Changbin scolds you and you frown. “Don’t ever think you’re the problem when that jerk dropped you off without even giving you a proper explanation.”

“But-“

“No buts. You’re beautiful and you’re funny and you’re smart and I’m sure he was the problem.” Changbin insists.

“How are you so sure?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him.

Your friend looks at you through his thick glasses as if you just asked him the most stupid question ever.

“Because you’re my friend? Duh.” Changbin shrugs.

Friend. That word brings you back to reality. That’s what you are to him, his friend. Sure, he’s your friend too, but recently you’ve started seeing him as something more than a friend and roommate - you’ve fallen for him.

That’s why you’d desperately tried to date during the past few weeks - to try to get over your stupid crush, because you most definitely couldn’t risk fucking your friendship with Changbin up. He’s been a part of your life for years now, and you wouldn’t wanna lose him due to a silly crush. Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s just your stupid brain playing tricks on you and letting you believe you could actually be with him - for real.

“That’s not an explanation, tho.”, you remind him. “Maybe it is me. Maybe I’m too stiff or awkward or… I don’t know, there must be a reason why they don’t call me back.”

Truth be told - you know. You know the reason why your dates always end the same way - because you keep comparing them to him. To Changbin. But in the end - nobody compares to him.

Changbin gets closer to you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You mentally scold yourself when you feel your stomach jump at the sudden proximity. Yeah, you should really get over your silly crush, it’s starting to become ridiculous.

For a moment, you let yourself believe he’s about to kiss you on your forehead like he always does when he’s trying to cheer you up, so you close your eyes in anticipation, like it happens in those romantic movies. What if he kissed you on the lips instead? How would his lips feel against yours?

But you don’t get to feel that, and you don’t get to feel his lips on your forehead either, because Changbin unexpectedly flicks you. Right on your forehead, making you wince in pain.

“Ow!”, you open your eyes only to find him laughing like an idiot. You glare at him, then hit him with a pillow. “What’s wrong with you? Why would you do that?”, you whine, rubbing the spot where he just flicked you.

He eventually stops laughing, but he’s still grinning. You roll your eyes at him.

“Because you have to stop overthinking things.”, he says.

As if it were simple, you want to say. If you could stop overthinking things, your life would be much easier. Changbin is probably the most laid back person you know, and he rarely worries too much about things. He rarely even opens up about his life, mostly because he doesn’t let the things than happen to him negatively affect his life or his thinking. You wish you could be like him.

“I know.”, you sigh, leaning back on the soft cushion. “I can’t help it. It’s just been so long since I’ve last had a proper date, you know? Maybe I’m just too rusty and I forgot how to flirt or something. Maybe there’s just something I do wrong.”, you point out.

Changbin looks like he has something on his mind. You know that face, where his eyes are slightly closed and he’s looking at you through his glasses while biting his cheek. Yeah, he’s definitely onto something.

“I’ll take you on a date.”

You freeze in your spot, looking at him with wide eyes. What? Are you imagining things or has he just asked you out on a date? Oh, this is not good for your get-over-your-stupid-crush plan.

“What?”, is all you manage to get out.

“I’ll take you on a date.” Changbin repeats as if the most normal thing in the world, and you can now feel your heart hammering in your chest. “If you’re that worried there’s something wrong with you, I can help you with that. We’ll go on a date and we’ll have fun and that’ll show you there’s nothing wrong with you or your flirting skills.”, he explains his evil plan.

Oh.

A little voice inside your head is telling you to decline his offer because this is dangerous territory. You’re already crushing on the guy, how is going on a date with him - even if it’s not a real one - make the situation any better? But of course Changbin doesn’t even suspect a thing, and being the sweet and caring friend he is, he just wants to genuinely help you.

What he doesn’t know, tho, is that it’ll probably only make things worse for you.

“You don’t have to do that.”, you quickly say. “You don’t have to take me out just because my love life is miserable.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” Changbin clears his throat and quickly adds “I mean, I want to help you. You know, boost your confidence and stuff.”

How are you supposed to decline his offer now? If you think about it - it’s just a date. Nothing has to happen. He’s Changbin, you’ve known him for years, what could possibly go wrong?

“Fine.”, you eventually give in.

Changbin looks at you surprised, as if he was expecting you to turn down his offer. He looks taken aback, but a smile spreads on his face nonetheless. “Okay then, I’m taking you out tomorrow night.”

Tomorrow? Isn’t that a bit too soon? You still need time to figure all of this out! Maybe it’s like ripping off a bandaid, the quicker the better. You’ll go out with your best friend Changbin like you’ve done plenty of times before - except this time it’s a date.

“Okay.”

“Good.” Changbin smiles at you. “We’re going on a date.”, he repeats, then gets up from the couch.

“Where are you going?”, you ask confused.

“To bed. Have to get up early tomorrow.” Changbin explains. “Goodnight, y/n.”, he then place the long yearned kiss on your forehead. “Sleep tight.”

⚡︎

You forget about the whole date-with-Changbin thing.

Well, it’s not like you forget about it - you just don’t take it too seriously. Changbin often jokes and stuff, so you brush his offer off as one of his jokes and just don’t think about it for the whole day. Plus, when he left earlier in the morning, he didn’t mention anything about tonight, so you just assumed he wasn’t serious about it. You don’t know whether you should feel relieved or not.

You just forget about the whole thing - that is, until you exit your room to go refill your water bottle and spot Changbin in your shared bathroom getting ready in front of the mirror. He’s wearing a white shirt, sleeves rolled up his elbows, and tight black pants. You stare a little too long, and he eventually acknowledges your presence outside the bathroom.

“Yah!”, he raises his voice, snapping his head in your direction as he takes in your figure. “You’re not ready? Aish…”

You look at him with wide eyes. You’re not ready. In fact, you’re far from ready. Your hair is messily styled into a ponytail and you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt and some shorts.

“I- I thought you were joking.”, you stutter.

“You better start getting ready, then. We’re leaving in less than one hour.” Changbin informs you as he sprays his cologne on his wrists and neck. “And you better start thinking of this as a real date!”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him as you go back in your room and open every single drawer in your closet, desperately looking for something decent to wear, but none of your clothes seem to be appropriate. Boring, old, boring and old, too slutty, too ugly. Yeah, you really need to declutter some of your clothes and buy new ones.

You eventually opt for a pair of black pants and a white, long sleeved top. Casual is how you’d define your outfit. Not too elegant, not too shabby. When it comes to the choice of your underwear, Changbin’s words resonate in your head.

You better start thinking of this as a real date, he said.

Now, if you were to go on a real date, you’d go for matching bra and panties, hoping to end your night with something more than a goodbye kiss. But then again, you’re going out with Changbin tonight, and it’s not like he’s going to see your underwear - because deep down both of you know it’s not a real date. But since he isn’t going to see your underwear - there’s no harm in actually matching it, is there? He’s never gonna know anyways, and it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, it’s just underwear.

You return to the bathroom with your clothes in your hands, neatly folded. Changbin’s still staring at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair. You can’t help but notice how handsome he is - white shirt slightly unbuttoned, tight pants wrapped around his muscular thighs, the sight is enough to make you drool.

“I have to shower.”, you announce, clearing your throat. You only have one hour to get ready, and you still have to do your hair and makeup.

“Oh, right. Sure.” Changbin mutters, before proceeding to leave the bathroom.

As he does so, he involuntarily takes a glimpse of your underwear - which you’d put right on top of your clothes -, and he hopes you miss the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches as he feels himself getting red in the face. Without uttering another word, he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

⚡︎

Changbin is a true gentleman - you find out.

He waited for you by his car, complimented your outfit as soon as he saw you, greeted you with a kiss on the cheek even though there was no need to since you technically live together, then opened the car door for you and closed it after he made sure you were comfortably seated in his car.

So far, you can say you’re genuinely impressed. The last guy you went out with hadn’t even bothered to turn the engine of his car off and just honked a couple times to let you know he’d arrived.

“Where are you taking me, my knight?”, you joke, and Changbin rolls his eyes at you as he fastens his seatbelt.

“Yah, stop making fun of this!”, he whines. “You’re not taking this seriously!”

You can’t help but giggle at his pouting, and it only annoys Changbin even more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. No more teasing, got it.”, you promise. “Now, where are you taking me?”

Changbin doesn’t answer you - he turns on the engine of his car instead. You only discover your destination when he parks his car about fifteen minutes later. Meanwhile, he let you put the music directly from your playlist - which is something he never does because, quote “My taste in music is better than yours anyways.” It must be your Passenger Princess - as Changbin called you - privilege, you guess.

For your date he brought you to eat ramyeon, and he didn’t choose a random place for that. You’re genuinely surprised he remembered. A couple of weeks ago you told him you were craving ramyeon so bad. You had asked him if he remember that specific restaurant where you’d eaten one time, claiming that they made the best spicy ramyeon there.

Of course Changbin remembered that day - it was the first time he thought of you as something more than a friend. You were supposed to go out with your friends too, but they’d all bailed on you last minute - so you and Changbin found yourselves alone in the crowded restaurant. Even though you were alone even back then - it feels different now. Right now, you’re on a date.

“You remembered!”, you look at him with your mouth agape as soon as you spot the neon sign of the restaurant.

Changbin parks the car and unfastens his seatbelt. He looks at you surprised. “Yah! Of course I remembered! Unlike you, I actually pay attention when somebody’s talking to me.”, he teases.

You roll your eyes at him and playfully push him. You’re about to open your car door, when Changbin lets out a loud “Yah!”, and you immediately halt your movements and look at him confused.

“I’m supposed to open it for you.”, he explains.

You can’t help but giggle. “Changbin, there’s no need to, I can do it myself.”

“No, no, no.”, he shakes his head dramatically. “You’re the Passenger Princess, remember?”

You can’t help but blush a little as soon as you hear those words, but it’s dark outside, so you hope he won’t notice. He swiftly gets out of the car, and opens the car door by your side in record time. For a moment, you wonder how cool would it be if you and Changbin were actually together - a couple - and went on dates on a regular basis.

Yeah, you have a feeling you could get used to the feeling.

“Take my hand.”, Changbin’s voice brings you back to reality.

Changbin is standing in front of you, handsome as ever, with the sleeves of his white shirt - your favorite - rolled up his sleeves, his hand outstretched, waiting for you to place your hand on top of his. As you do so - you feel a shiver run down your spine, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your body tenses up when he squeezes your hand in his.

Changbin seems to be skilled in the dating department. He opens the door of the restaurant for you, helps you take off your jacket and asks you what you want to eat - even though he knows well your favorite ramyeon is definitely the buldak one. He even orders a carton of milk in case it’s too spicy.

Thoughtful and caring - that’s what Changbin is, and that seems to mess with your plan of getting over him. Now that you’re getting a taste of what dating him would be like, you find yourself craving for more. You want more dates and more car rides and more Passenger Princess privileges and more and more and more.

Maybe this whole fake-real-date thing was a bad idea from the start, and you shouldn’t have listened to Changbin’s words - because there’s no way today’s date is actually going to help you. In fact, you fear it’s going to set the bar a little too high for your future dates.

“So…”, he starts, grabbing his chopsticks from the table and putting the napkin on his knees to avoid staining his pants just in case. “Tell me about you.”

You look at him dumbfounded - chopsticks in your hand as you’re about to take a mouthful of ramyeon. “What?”, you ask.

Changbin takes his time to savor and swallow his ramyeon. Then, he clarifies. “Tell me about you. What do you do for a living, what are your hobbies… Stuff like this, you know?”

You’re confused. “Changbin…”, you clear your throat that’s currently burning due to the extremely spicy sauce. “We live together. You know what I do for a living.”

He sighs. “It’s a date, y/n, I’m supposed to ask you these questions!”, he groans.

“But it’s not a real date! And you already know these things!”, you protest.

He glares at you as he brings his chopsticks back to his mouth and continues eating his ramyeon.

“Fine.”, you sigh, twisting the noodles in your plate with your chopsticks. “I’m a full-time kindergarten teacher, I work at a private school not far from Seoul.”, you start. “Hobbies, mh?”, you pause for a second. “Definitely painting. I love painting, I find it relaxing.”

Changbin smiles, pleased that you decided not to be a buzzkill and finally answer his questions.

“Kindergarten, huh?” Changbin rhetorically asks as he takes his time to refill both yours and his glasses with fresh water. “You must love kids, then.”

You nod. “I do. They’re so cute and full of surprises, you know? Every day I discover a new thing about them.”, you say with a smile on your face.

Changbin knows you love your job - of course he does. It makes him happy to hear you talk about how much you love your job and to see you happy nonetheless.

“I’m sure you’re a wonderful teacher, and I’m sure those kids love you.”, he says, a shy smile on his face. “So,” he clears his throat. “Painting! You have to let me see one of your masterpieces one day, then. Maybe I could be your muse, you could paint me.”, he smirks.

Is he… flirting?

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t call them masterpieces, but sure - I’d be happy to show you.”, you look at him through your eyelashes, kind of intrigued by the conversation you’re having. “I don’t live by myself, though, so I have to make sure my friend won’t be around, you know?”, you wink.

“Oh, you live with a friend?”, he plays along and even pretends to be surprised.

“Mh-hm”, you hum in agreement. “He’s a pain in the ass.”, you chuckle.

“Yah!” Changbin exclaims, before he realizes he’s fallen right in your trap. He clears his throat, “I mean - I’m sure he’s not that bad, is he?”

Maybe you should tease him a little, just for fun.

“He always leaves his things around the apartment. And he never does the dishes. Sometimes he even eats my food.”

“Your f-“, he clears his throat once again. “Yah, he sounds quite annoying. But I’m sure he’s funny and cute.”, he says confidently.

“Mh, not really.”, you let out a loud laugh at his shocked expression, covering your mouth with one hand. “Nah, I’m kidding, he’s a cool guy. It’s real fun living with him, I really like having him around.”, you admit, blushing a little.

You don’t notice it - but Changbin blushes too.

“Now tell me about you, Changbin.”, you tease him by asking him the same thing he’d asked you. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a chiropractic.”, he promptly says. “But I also work as a part-time personal trainer on Tuesdays and Fridays.”, he adds. “Whenever I got some free time I just workout. I usually do it at home, though.”

You know Changbin works out - of course you do. He usually does it in his own room, he just puts on some music and doesn’t exit his bedroom for at least an hour, all sweaty and ready to get rid of his sticky clothes and hop in the shower. You know he does it, but you’ve never seen him at work, and you’d be lying if you said it wouldn’t intrigue you to see him all sweaty and out of breath and -.

Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re in the middle of a dinner date and you’re fantasizing about a man when said man is right before you. Said man is also your friend and roommate, by the way.

“I would have bet on it.”, you squeeze his arm that’s currently resting on top of your table. “There’s no way a man could be so fit and not be a personal trainer.”, you say, a bit flirty. “Maybe you could show me a couple of exercises I could do…”, you bat your eyelashes at him, flirting back. Two can play this game, right?

Changbin is shook and doesn’t know how to react. First, there’s your hand squeezing his forearm. Then, there’s you flirting with him.

“I- uh…”, he clears his throat. “Sure, I can teach you some… stuff. Not that you need to workout, anyways. You look beautiful the way you are.”, he flirts back.

“Thank you.”, you wink at him. “You’re pretty beautiful yourself.”

The rest of your dinner proceeds like this - Changbin flirting with you and you flirting back. You’re enjoying the little attention he gives you, but wonder whether you made a wise choice, agreeing to this absurd idea your Changbin came up with. However, this might be the only chance you get to have him this close and to receive this kind of attention from him, so you don’t worry about it too much. You plan on enjoying the lingering touches, the shy smiles and the flirting as much as possible, because you know that once the date is over you won’t get to experience any of that again.

“This is fun.”, you casually comment.

“What’s fun?”

“This - the date.”, you clarify.

“I’m having fun too.” Changbin chuckles as he runs one hand through his dark hair. “I told you the problem’s not you.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat - he’s so handsome. One of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, if you have to be honest. And it’s not just the looks - his physical appearance is just a bonus. He’s got the whole package also personality wise. He’s fun and kind and a true gentleman - he’s a good friend and listens to you, he’s honest when it comes to giving advice, he’s just perfect. It’s going to be so hard to go back to dating ordinary men after having had a taste of what dating Changbin would be like, you can’t help but think.

“It’s just easy with you because I’m comfortable around you.”, you honestly say.

He looks slightly taken aback by your confession. “Were you not comfortable around those guys?”, he asks. You shake your head as a no. “Oh. Then you shouldn’t go out with guys who make you uncomfortable.”

You should go out with me. For real., a voice inside Changbin’s head screams.

⚡︎

On your way back home, you scolded Changbin for paying the restaurant check, claiming that he didn’t have to, claiming that “It’s not a real date, you don’t have to pay.”. “I want to.”, he’d answered, before pulling out his credit card from his wallet. You eventually agreed to that under one condition: “Next time, dinner’s on me.”, you’d said. Only now you do realize what those four words imply: another date.

And you’ll probably never know - but that’s why Changbin was smiling like an idiot on your way back to the car and during the whole ride home.

Changbin stops his car and turns the engine off. “We’re here.”, he announces.

“Is this how you usually end a date?”, you tease him.

“No, I usually walk the girl to the door.” Changbin says, then he grins at you. “Are you finally admitting this is a real date?”, he teases back, wiggling his eyebrows.

You playfully push him and roll your eyes at him pretending to be angry when you’re really not. You’re far from angry - in fact, you’re so happy you don’t want tonight to end, but you can’t tell Changbin that. “Yah! As if…”, you scoff. “I was just thinking - since you asked me to think of this as a real date - that we better do this right.”

You do have a point, Changbin realizes.

“Right.”, he agrees. “I’ll walk you to the door then.”

Like the true gentleman he is - Changbin opens the car door for you once again, for the fourth time tonight, ignoring your protests. Sometimes you seem to forget how stubborn he is.

When he walks you to the door - you both stare at each other awkwardly. What are you supposed to do now? This is the part of a date where a couple usually shares their first kiss or voices their desire to meet again, but you and Changbin are not a couple, and this isn’t a date. Even though you liked to pretend it was all real - both of you know it wasn’t.

You can’t help but think Changbin looks handsome right now, standing in front of you with his hands in his pocket and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up his arms, showing his forearms. You feel like a creep when you think about it - but you really got a thing for Changbin’s arms. They’re so muscular and buff and thick and you just can’t stop staring at him whenever he doesn’t notice.

“Right, uhm…” Changbin hums, unsure what he’s supposed to do now.

In the end, he decides to go for the safest option, so he cups your face with his big hands and leans in. For a moment there, you think he’s going to really kiss you - place his plump lips on top of yours and give you a breathtaking kiss, so you close your eyes in anticipation. Instead, he places his soft lips on your forehead, and he lingers.

Your heart is hammering hard in your chest - even though it’s not the kiss you were secretly hoping to receive, it still feels amazing and different from all the previous times he’d kissed you on the forehead before. This time it feels more intimate, so you find the courage to wrap your arms around his buff figure, hands now resting on his broad shoulders while his hands are still cupping your face and his lips are still pressed against your skin.

It feels so intimate and so magical, and you can’t think of anything else besides - “I love you.”

You feel Changbin’s body freeze under your touch as soon as he registers your words, and you can’t believe you just said that out loud. Like, for real. You just told Changbin you love him. Changbin. Your friend and roommate Changbin. The guy you’re currently on a fake-real-date with. You just told him you love him. This could either ruin what you have forever or potentially turn into the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

So, you take a deep breath. You’re really doing this.

“I’m in love with you, Changbin.”, you clarify - you want to make sure he doesn’t misunderstand your words and think you love him just as a friend. “Have been for a while now. I didn’t want to ruin what we have - I didn’t want to risk losing you.”, your voice trembles. “But tonight - I guess this whole fake date thing messed with my head more than it should’ve. So yeah - I love you.”

It’s a shitty confession, you’re aware of that. To be honest - you weren’t even planning on confessing to Changbin, like, ever, so you’re surprised you even found the courage to try to put your thoughts into words.

He doesn’t react at first, still frozen in his spot with his hands on your face, and you mentally prepare yourself for the upcoming rejection. When you hear him inhale deeply through his nostrils and pull away from you, you squeeze your eyes shut - a scarce attempt to get ready for the words you’re sure you’re about to hear.

“Y/n.”, he says instead, voice calm, tho a bit quivery. “Yah, open your eyes.” You really don’t want to, but you do it anyways. You decided to pour your heart to him - which means that now you have to be mature about it and find in yourself the courage to face him. You open your eyes and snap your head up to meet his without uttering a single word - you’ve said too much already. “Is it true?” Changbin’s words come out in a whisper.

You just nod slowly, not breaking the eye contact, and you don’t miss the way his breath gets caught in his throat.

“You’re really in love with me? You’re not- You’re not messing with me, are you?”, he rambles and desperately tries to swallow the lump in his throat as his brain processes what’s happening.

“I’m not messing with you.”

He leans forward and presses his forehead against yours - his hair tickles your skin, and your heart starts beating faster in your chest. “Can I kiss you?”, he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“Yes.”

You feel your legs buckle when he finally presses his lips against yours. His lips feel as heavenly as you imagined, and you can’t believe you’re finally kissing him. It’s chaste and innocent at first, but when you pull him closer, he takes it as a sign to deepen the kiss. Then you feel his tongue gently brush against your lower lip and you feel like your legs are about to give in for good. As you kiss, he moves his hands from your face to your waist, not pulling away as you practically make out on your porch.

It’s you who breaks the kiss first, resting your forehead against his as you try to regain your breath - still a bit dazed from the mind-blowing kiss. His hands are still on your waist, fingers gently squeezing you as you’re trying to find the courage to ask him the next question. “Do you… want to come in?”, you whisper on his lips.

He chuckles, “Of course I do, do you want me to sleep in the car?”

You realize he clearly didn’t understand what you were implying. You clear your throat, embarrassed - cheeks turning red. “No, I mean - do you want to come in?”, you repeat, hoping this time he’d get the message.

He does, because his breath hitches as he freezes once again. He pulls away gently and finds you staring at him with big, doe eyes. He’s looking for any signs of uncertainty in your eyes, but can’t find any - you’re sure about it, you want him. And of course he wants you, too, how could he not? He’s crazy about you, has been for years but has always been too much of a coward to confess his feelings to you.

“Are you sure?”, he asks you, and you nod vigorously, then peck his lips once more.

⚡︎

Changbin is nervous.

He’s about to sleep with you and the truth is - he’s scared. What if you don’t like it? What if he can’t make you cum? It’s a reasonable fear, isn’t it? After all, it’s your first time sleeping together - it usually takes time to figure out what your partner likes or dislikes. He’s slept with a few girls and he’s definitely experienced in the sex field - though he can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. He wants to make you feel good, he wants to pleasure you - he wants to live up to your expectations.

You seem to sense his nervousness, because you break the kiss by gently pulling away from him. You’re laying on your bed and he’s between your legs - both of you still fully clothed, making out like a couple of horny teenagers. He’s propped up on his elbows, muscular chest against yours and you can feel his erection pressing against your inner thigh.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”, you whisper on his lips, gently stroking away one lock of hair from his face. “We can just lie down and cuddle.”, you place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

Now - he feels even dumber than before, because all his awkwardness led you to thinking he doesn’t want this. As if he hasn't literally dreamed of this, as if he’s not crazy about you, as if he hasn’t spent the last months trying to figure out how to find the courage to pour his heart to you.

“No!”, he almost shouts, and you giggle at his eagerness, which makes him blush slightly. “I mean - No, I want this. Very much.”, he says as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles delicately. “It’s just - I don’t want to mess it up.”, he admits.

“You won’t mess it up.”, you reassure him, pecking his plump lips.

His breath hitches in his throat once again when he feels your hands travel all the way to the hem of his shirt, until you place them underneath it - your cold fingers now touching his bare back and he hisses at the feeling.

“Sorry. Cold hands.”, you giggle.

He kisses your lips in response, then lets his own hand travel across your body until it reaches your hip, gently squeezing it through your clothes. It’s only when you move your hands to unbutton his shirt that he realizes - it’s happening. You’re about to undress each other and see each other naked and sleep together. It’s not his brain playing a trick on him, no - it’s really happening. That encourages him to slip one hand slip under the soft fabric of your top until he reaches one of your breasts, gently cupping it. You’re wearing a bra and he can’t really feel your nipples through the fabric, but it makes his dick throb in his pants nonetheless.

“Take this off?”, you whisper as you unbutton another button of his shirt, revealing part of his collarbone.

He nods quickly, retrieving his hand from underneath your top only to kneel between your thighs - desperately trying to unbutton his damn shirt as fast as possible despite his shaky hands. He eventually takes it off, letting it fly across the room without a care in the world.

You bite down on your lower lip, then you lift up your body so that you’re now sitting on the bed, and take off your top as well. Changbin hisses at the sight of you in a bra - a sight he never thought he’d be able to witness. Then, your hands reach for the button of his pants, brushing against his clothed dick in the process and his breath gets caught in his throat.

“You’re beautiful.”, he whispers, unable to tear his eyes off of you as you fidget with the zipper of his pants.

You snap your head up to meet his eyes and smile at him - cheeks flushing red at the sudden compliment. Finally, you manage to undo his pants, revealing the waistband of his underwear. “Off.”, you whisper, leaving a series of chaste kisses from his navel to the fabric of his boxers, which makes him shiver.

He gets up from the bed and so do you, unzipping your pants as well, letting them slide off your thighs, revealing your underwear to Changbin, whose eyes widen in shock as he slides his own pants off.

“I know I already said it, but - you’re beautiful.”, he repeats, placing both of his hands on your waist and pulling you closer for a kiss - his cock is now pressing on your belly, painfully hard. “So perfect.”, he moves one hand to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he begins to leave wet kisses on your neck.

“Bin.”, you whimper when his lips reach your collarbone, gently sucking on the skin, careful not to leave any marks.

Changbin can’t help but groan and shut his eyes close as soon as he hears those words leave your mouth. It’s all real, he’s not dreaming. You’re really in his arms, he’s really kissing you - it’s not one of his dreams, it’s all real. You’re in your room, both of you in only your underwear, ready to discover each other’s bodies for the first time.

There’s always some awkwardness lingering in the air the first time you sleep with someone - whether you’ve known the other person for years or they are total strangers, whether you’re inexperienced or have done this before.

Now that Changbin is in front of you in only his underwear, all the confidence you previously had in you suddenly vanishes. What if you won’t live up to his expectations? What if it’ll be awkward? What if he doesn’t like it - doesn’t like your naked body? What if - after you sleep together - he realizes he doesn’t like you that way and wants to go back to being just friends and roommates? Will you be able to be just friends with him - pretend that nothing happened?

“Hey.”, he places two fingers under your chin and delicately lifts your head so that your eyes would meet - he sees it all in your gaze. “Now you’re the one who seems uncomfortable.”, he gives you a warm smile.

“I’m not.”, you promise. You want this, you do want to sleep with him, you’re sure of that. It’s more the repercussions of your night together that scare you, not the act per se.

“Good.” Changbin places a kiss on your lips. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”, he says, piercing eyes staring deep into yours. “I want you to be yourself when you’re with me - I want you to feel safe with me.”

You know you’re safe with him, and you feel definitely free to be yourself around him. That’s why you fell for him in the first place - he always makes you feel appreciated and understood, he’s a true angel.

“I do.”, you promptly say. “I always feel safe with you - that’s why I love you.”, you whisper. He bites your lower lip once those words leave your mouth - as if those were the words he’d been dying to hear, and you yelp in surprise, but melt into the kiss.

He squeezes your asscheek, then grinds his body against yours - your boobs now pressing against his pecs and his hard length positioned on your belly, right above your clothed core. Then, he pulls away from the kiss.

“Lie down on the bed for me.”

You gulp, staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips. It’s as if your words have suddenly awakened something inside of him - a side of him you’ve never seen, for obvious reasons. He sounds impatient, desperate to feel more - to be as close as possible to you.

You do as he asked, letting your back fall on the soft mattress as Changbin crawls on the bed an positions himself above you - his buff body hovering over yours, the palm of his hands at each side of your face as he stares into your eyes. You spread your thighs to welcome him between them once again - only this time you’re both almost fully undressed, only the thin layers of your underwear between you. He’s rock hard in the confines of his boxers just like you’re already dripping wet inside your panties - it’s mutual, you realize.

“Can I taste you, princess?” Changbin whispers as his lips leave a series of wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as you try to hold back a shameless moan.

You want nothing more than for Changbin to eat you out - you’re sure you’ve even had a wet dream about this scenario, to be honest. You nod frantically, your hands roaming around his bare back, nails delicately scraping his skin. “Yes.”, you pant, and you feel his length twitch in response.

He leaves a trail of kisses that goes from your neck to your navel and finally, he places a chaste kiss on the thin fabric of your panties - right on your clothed clit. Your hips buckle at the sudden contact, and don’t miss the way he chuckles. When he hooks his fingers to each side of your underwear and begins to pull down, you feel the urge to instinctively close your legs - suddenly feeling too exposed -, but he halts your movements by placing one hand on your knee.

“Are you feeling shy all of a sudden, princess?” Changbin asks, finally getting rid of your panties, letting the small piece of fabric fall on the floor. “Why is that so, mh?”, he rhetorically asks as he places a soft kiss on your knee. “Would it help if I was naked too?”, he mutters against your skin, leaving another kiss - this time on your inner thigh, slightly above your knee.

“Yes.”, you whisper, but he hears you loud and clear.

He chuckles, before pulling away from your body to kneel on the mattress - pecs and abs on full display. “What my princess wants, my princess gets.”, he says as he begins to slide his underwear down his thick thighs, revealing his painfully hard cock to you in the process, letting it slap against his abdomen. You’re staring, you’re aware, but - it’s big. And thick. You wonder how it’ll feel inside of you.

He gets rid of his underwear and returns to where he previously was - between your legs, kissing your inner thigh. His kisses move closer and closer to where you need him the most, and you bite your lower lip when he kisses your groin - his hair brushing against your skin. He’s so close - a couple of inches away from your neglected core.

But he doesn’t touch you there - because he’s a fucking tease. In fact, what he does is place a kiss on your other knee. Your eyes widen in pure shock, you can’t believe he’d make you squirm like that. He starts to leave kisses on your other thigh at an excruciatingly slow pace, teeth scraping your soft skin from time to time - roughly, but not too rough as to hurt you. He’d never hurt you. After what it feels like hours, he’s back at your groin - hair tickling your skin once again.

You’re about to snap and beg him to do something, anything, when he places a delicate, chaste kiss on your pussy, earning a choked moan from you. You prop yourself on your elbows, not wanting to miss a sight like this - Changbin lying on his tummy, positioned between your legs as he licks his lips, ready to make his next move.

He licks a long stripe that goes from your slit to your clit, before attaching his lips to your sensitive nub as he sucks delicately, going slow at first. He alternates kisses, sucks and licks in a delicious combination that has you kick your head back as your breath gets heavier and heavier - heart beating fast in your chest.

“Can I?”, he pulls away from your clit with a grunt, and you’re about to ask him what, when you suddenly feel the pads of two of his fingers brushing against your slit, collecting some of the dampness between your legs.

“Please.”, is all you manage to get out - with a heavy sigh.

He inserts only one finger at first, making sure to go slow just in case. It feels weird to have another man’s finger inside of you - good weird, of course, you’re just not used to it. Your previous partners weren’t really fond of foreplay when it came to giving, and they’d rarely do that spontaneously. You’re barely accustomed to the feeling of having one of his long fingers inside of you - when you feel another one poking at your entrance, ready to slip in.

“Gonna stretch you out real good, princess.” Changbin groans against your pussy, letting the other finger slip inside of you. “It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

It already feels good, you want to tell him, but you’re stopped by his tongue - swirling around your clit as he slightly bends his fingers inside of you. He sucks on your clit and at the same time he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, making sure his pads would brush against your g-spot every time. Once he’s sure he’s found the perfect spot - he just knows by the way you’d kick your head back and let out a chocked moan -, he stops thrusting his fingers completely. Instead, he moves just his pads, rubbing your sweet spot as he kisses and licks and sucks your clit in the meantime. He feels you clench around him, and it’s his signal to just don’t stop - to keep going, and that’s what he intends to do.

“Changbin, I’m -“, you pant - you want to warn him you’re about to cum, but you don’t get to, because a particularly long suck on your clit, combined with the stimulation provided by his fingers, has you falling apart under his touch - releasing around his fingers with a series of whimpers as your toes curl and your hands grip on the sheets underneath you.

“You were so good, princess.” Changbin praises you as he slowly removes his fingers, careful not to overstimulate you, before placing a single, chaste kiss on your clit as a well done. “You came so hard.”

“Now it’s your turn.”, you manage to get out - still heavily panting and trying to regain your breath, but you still want more. “I want to feel you.”

Changbin lifts his body up and kneels between your parted legs, resting one hand on your knee as he brings his fingers - the one that were buried inside of you - to his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around them as he licks them clean. “Taste so good, princess, can’t wait to find out how you feel wrapped around me.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat for the millionth time tonight, but you guess it’s the effect Changbin has on you. How are you supposed to remain calm and collected when your crush is currently between your legs, naked, after eating you out as if it was his last meal?

“Do you happen to have a condom, princess?” Changbin’s voice brings you back to reality.

Your eyes widen and you realize that no, you don’t have one - another proof of your lack of action lately. “No, I don’t.”, you admit.

“I’ll go check in my room.” Changbin is about to get up from the bed, but you stop him by grabbing him by the wrist, halting his movements completely.

“It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”, you whisper, feeling your cheeks heating up as soon as you say those words. “I’m clean - if you’re clean, we can do it without one.”

Changbin looks taken aback and stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape as his brain tries to process what you just said. You want him… to fuck you raw?

“I’m clean, but… princess, are you sure? I can go check, it’s not a problem. My room’s right across the hallway.”, he wants to make sure you’re not feeling pressured or anything - because you’re not. If you want him to put on a condom he’ll go check in his room if he has one - hell, he’ll go to the nearest store and buy some if he has to.

“I’m sure, Bin. I want to feel you.”, you whisper, and Changbin gulps hard.

“Fuck - okay, princess.”, he mutters, positioning himself between your legs once again - in the mean time, you take off your bra in a matter of seconds, revealing your bare breasts to him. He wastes no time in capturing one of your nipples in his lips, gently sucking on it as he presses his body against yours - his muscular arms resting at each side of your body, cock rock hard pressing on your belly. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

You’re ready, you’re more than ready. So you tell him - it comes out in a whisper, and it sends a shiver down his spine. He shifts his weight on one arm and wraps his own fingers around the thick base of his cock, aligning its tip to your entrance. He looks into your eyes one more time in search for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort, but he can’t find any. Eventually, he starts to push in, and you feel the tip of his thick length part your folds slowly, entirely coated in your arousal.

“Oh, God.” Changbin gasps once he’s fully settled inside of you - his cock stretching you out real good. It’s been a while since he had raw sex, so he needs to collect himself before he can finally start to thrust inside of you. “Give me a second, princess.”, he pants, face scrunched in pleasure of feeling your tight pussy wrapped around him. “You feel so good around me, you have no idea.”, he whispers on your lips. “So fucking tight."

Once he’s sure he won’t come on the spot as soon as he starts moving - he begins to roll his hips to meet yours. You wrap your arms around his buff figure, placing both of your hands on his back - gently scratching the skin with your fingernails, earning a series of deep grunts from him. He’s propped up on his elbows that are resting on each side of your face, and his face instantly falls in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin as he bites gently on your collarbone.

“You feel so good inside of me.”, you return the compliment - panting and whimpering as he moves in and out of you at a steady pace.

It feels perfect inside of you, and without the layer of the rubber you’re able to feel all of him - his velvety skin, in contrast with how hard he is right now, the way it throbs inside of you as he pushes back inside, stretching you out real good. Your hands wander all over his body, but inevitably end up wrapping around his biceps, squeezing them tight as you let out a chocked moan at the feeling of his flexed muscles.

“You like ‘em that much?” Changbin teases you, snapping his head up to meet your eyes, still thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy.

You nod frantically, feeling even more aroused by his words. “Yes, God.”, you pant. “They turn me on so much.”

“Really?” Changbin snaps his hips faster at your confession.

“Yeah.”, you whimper, kicking your head back in pleasure after a particularly hard thrust - Changbin’s hips colliding with yours. “They’re so big and… look so good on you. Look so hot.”

“Yeah?” Changbin pants as he leaves a series of wet, sloppy kisses on your neck - occasionally sucking on the soft skin. “I kinda figured that out, you’re always staring when I’m done working out.”, he chuckles.

“It’s not my fault.”, you whimper. “You look so hot in those snug shirts.”, you involuntarily clench around him when the image of Changbin post-workout pops up in your head, and he grunts when he feels your walls squeezing him.

“What else do you like?”, he mutters against your skin - eyes closed shut in pleasure as he tries his best to last as long as possible, but it’s hard - you’re just so fucking hot.

“Your thighs.”, you answer without hesitation - as if you’d been waiting for his question. “Look so fucking big and hot - makes me wanna ride them all the time.”, you’re not even paying attention to what you’re saying anymore - too lost in the moment, in Changbin’s lips on you, in his hips slamming against yours, in his cock twitching inside of you.

“Fuck - you can’t say things like that.” Changbin snaps his head up to look at you. “You’ll make me cum.”

The desperation in his voice somehow turns you on even more - the thought of him trying to hold back in order to postpone his orgasm and last longer drives you crazy. You’re pleased to find out he’s as whipped as you are - both too caught up in the moment to think straight.

“I want you to cum.”, you whisper on his lips and he hisses when he feels you clench around him - on purpose, this time, as you wrap your limbs around him.

“But I want to last some more.” Changbin practically whines as his hips start to move more frantically when he feels you clenching around him - he’s close, and it’s all because of you. He thought he could bear with how tight you feel around him, how deep he is nested inside of you - but you whispering such things in his ear?

“Don’t you want to come inside of me?”, you whisper, squeezing his biceps harder. “You don’t want to fill me up?”

Changbin’s eyes widen as soon as he hears your words. Inside of you? You want him to - oh, fuck. The thought of filling you up has crossed his mind, but he never really thought he’d get to do that. He thought you wanted him to pull out when he was about to cum, he never really expected you to let him finish inside of you. The thought is driving him crazy, and before he can stop himself - he’s already cumming, hot spurts of his seed coating the insides of your walls as he releases with a deep grunt, not even thinking about halting the movements of his hips.

“Fuck - I’m sorry, I-“, he mumbles incoherently as he continues to rock his hips until he’s sure he’s spilled until the very last drop.

“It’s okay.”, you place a soft kiss on his forehead as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, clearly embarrassed even though there’s nothing to be ashamed of. “It was hot.”

Was it?, Changbin can’t help but wonder. He honestly doesn’t think that cumming that fast can be considered hot - especially since he didn’t even get you off. Sure, he made you cum before with his mouth and fingers, but he’s a bit disappointed in himself for acting like a horny teenager around you, for ruining your first time together. At least that’s what he thinks - you don’t think he ruined it. In fact, you think the total opposite.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t make you cum.”, he mutters against your skin, sounding a bit guilty.

“It’s fine.”, you reassure him, running your hand through his hair, gently tugging at it as you rubbed his bare back with your other hand. “Besides, you did make me cum earlier.”, you remind him.

“Yeah, but not when I was inside of you.”, he whines.

You don’t care about that, you know it’s not that important. Sex is made up of different factors and situation, and it’s not always the same - even if it’s with the same person. You know that getting off doesn’t always have to be the ultimate goal and that it can still feel good even if you don’t cum, so it’s not a problem for you.

“It doesn’t matter, I still liked it.”, you place another kiss on top of his head.

“You did?”, he sounds surprised, snapping his head up to meet your eyes to see if you’re lying - you’re not.

“Mh-hm.”, you hum as you caress his hair, moving a couple of locks from his face. “Very much.”

Changbin feels a little more relaxed now, if he’s being honest with himself. He places a kiss on your lips before he shifts his body to remove himself from inside of you, kneeling between your legs. Once he pulls out, he can’t help but stare at your pussy - impatient to see his cum drip out of your hole and onto the sheets, hissing at the sight. His cum looks so good, leaking out of you - if cum can look good.

You, however, are preoccupied with another thought. Where do you go from here? You’d told Changbin you love him and then you had sex, but he hadn’t said it back. He doesn’t feel the same way, it’s clear as day. You wonder whether you’ll be able to forget about tonight and pretend nothing happened between you - you wonder whether you’ll be okay with being just roommates from now on.

“I’m gonna go wash up.”, you mumble, not looking at him, sitting up on the mattress - careful not to make a mess on the bed as you get up, retrieving a clean towel from a drawer to dry his cum.

Once you leave the room and disappear in the bathroom, Changbin feels like the biggest idiot out there. He immediately noticed something’s off with you and he still didn’t do anything about it - he still hasn’t talked to you about what you’d said, the whole you-loving-him thing. And now you’re clearly upset and confused, and it’s all his fault - he needs to fix this, he can’t bear the thought of you being sad or hurt because of him.

He quickly rushes to the bathroom as well, and knocks a couple of times on the wooden door. You don’t answer, though - you probably can’t hear him since the water’s running and you’re probably in the shower, but what he needs to tell you can’t wait, so he gently pushes the door open and covers his eyes - in case you don’t want him to see you like that, even though he’s still naked himself.

“Changbin?”, you ask - you sound a bit surprised to see him there but it’s not like you’re shocked or anything.

He’s still covering his eyes with his hand - which you find weird, considering he was literally inside of you less than ten minutes ago. He’s standing on the doorstep, not daring to come in just in case you don’t want him there.

“What are you doing standing there? Come in.”

He gasps, taken aback by your offer. Come in? As in in the shower? With you? He’s pretty confused about the whole situation, but then he hears the noise of the shower door sliding open. He removes his hand from his eyes, and his gaze falls on your naked figure, standing in the shower - back facing him. He seems hesitant to hop in the shower with you, so you speak again.

“Hurry, I’m freezing!”, you urge, and he finally takes a step forward - and then two, three, four, until he’s entering the shower, the hot water drenching his body as he slides the shower door close behind him.

Even though you kissed and had sex and he literally came inside of you - he’s still surprised about the intimacy of the act of showering together - somehow even more intimate than his dick in your pussy, if he’s being honest. This feels… domestic, the kind of thing a couple would do on a regular basis - and not two roommates, and it makes him happy, because he knows he hasn’t been seeing you as only his roommate in a while now. But you still wouldn’t turn your body to face him, so he guesses he better talk now - say what he’s been wanting to tell you for months.

“Y/n?”, he calls your name quietly.

“Mh?”

You still won’t turn around, so he wraps his muscular arms around your figure, right below your naked chest as he presses his body against yours so that your back is now touching his chest - his mouth so close to your ear it sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s nothing compared to the words he voices out next.

“I love you too.”

Your heart hammers in your chest when you hear those words - the words you’ve been dying to hear. You turn around and snap your head up to meet his eyes - brain short-circuiting as you’re trying to process his words.

“What?”, you mumble, still in his arms.

He smiles at you - red in the face, flustered. “I love you too.”, he repeats - now even the tips of his ears are turned red, he’s so cute. Yes, Changbin might be buff and muscular, but you know he’s secretly a softie - that’s why you like him so much, he’s got the whole package. “Sorry it took me so long to say it back."

His confession has tears well up in your eyes as you bury your face in his chest and wrap your arms around him, holding him tight. He places a soft kiss on the top of your head and gently caresses your back with his hands.

You stay like this for a while, under the hot stream of the water, in pure silence, embracing each other in a tight, heartfelt hug - both of you smiling and grinning like idiots. Idiots in love. Changbin’s soft hands gently brushing against your back and your head on his chest, allowing you to feel how fast his heart is beating in his chest. No words are needed, you love Changbin and he loves you too - words will probably ruin the magic of this precious moment you’re sharing together, a moment you’ve both been dreaming of.

⚡︎

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see-arcane · 2 years

Text

OJ and JJ: Why Jean Jacket Let the Haywoods—Especially OJ—Get Away with More Than Anyone Else in “Nope”

I’ve seen Nope twice now. While everyone I saw it with enjoyed it, I heard a few cries of foul when it came to OJ and the others’ improbable good luck with all their near misses interacting with our favorite terrifying gulch-haunting UFO. I call foul back and say plot armor had nothing to do with it. Some luck, yeah, otherwise we’d have no protagonists. But that was hardly all.

Spoilers for Nope below

To be clear, I am absolutely not painting this as the same delusional ‘friendship’ Jupe assumed he had with Jean Jacket. Neither he, nor OJ, nor anyone else is a miraculously endowed animal/alien tamer with an automatic ~*~special bond~*~. It’s one of many points Nope goes out of its way to illustrate. You can only train (or disrespect) an animal so far before they lash out, especially predators, and especially island-sized UFOs with the munchies. But, insomuch as there is any ‘safe’ way to coexist in close proximity with something like Jean Jacket, OJ Haywood is shown to have pulled it off with flying colors. And he did so almost entirely unaware to begin with by dint of his character traits.

That and a combination of Jean Jacket’s own instincts are what likely put him and the people around him in the tiiiny pocket of special allowance JJ deigned to give them over the course of the movie.

Let’s roll back to the first scene with the Haywood Ranch and the death of Otis Sr. A death by falling nickel that happened six months before the present-day events of the film. Just before this, father and son were curious about the screaming in the clouds—a fresh snack of hikers about to be squelched—followed by the rain of inedible bits. We can assume this was Jean Jacket’s first time flying in the gulch, and he chose the Haywood Ranch as The Spot for Purging; just like the hills next to the ranch were chosen for his ‘nest’/hiding place/resting spot.

While Jupe was methodically feeding JJ fresh horses and imagining the big guy trusted him, Jean Jacket kept going home to his actual favorite spot right next to OJ and his horses—a man and his big juicy animals out training in broad daylight, day after day, without ever pestering them. No missing horses. No missing OJ. Despite JJ clearly having opportunity and a taste for both species by that point. Why?

The obvious answer is that OJ kept his head down. Literally. Eyes always on his work, under the shade of his hat bill, maybe glancing at the clouds now and then…but always too far away to agitate. For all that time, he was unconsciously respecting Jean Jacket’s rules. Plus, he was in JJ’s purging/nesting territory first; yes, Jean Jacket was calling dibs on the whole gulch, but if the locals already there aren’t bothering him, fine, sure, they can stay.

The place’s importance to Jean Jacket, OJ’s head-down habits, and the amount of time spent coexisting with each other sans trouble all combined to put OJ and the alien into as close to a neighborly setup as could ever be expected. Don’t fuck with me, I don’t fuck with you.

Then things start picking up. Too much activity, too many new skyward glances from OJ, too many hackles raised with the Star Lasso Experience. And yeah, JJ did almost vacuum OJ up—he infringed on their ‘arrangement’ and looked! The nerve! And after JJ let him get away with hiding under a roof the night he stared up at the dust devil that took the fake horse! How ungrateful!

…A move that, in hindsight, plays almost like a Strike 1 offense, paid back by slurping up the actual horse. OJ’s staring at the Star Lasso arena was likely Strike 2. After snapping at OJ and causing the accidental knockout against the ceiling, JJ flies off without him or Lucky.

Off JJ flies to the Haywood Ranch again, full of screaming people and detritus and huffy extraterrestrial chest-pounding. And what does JJ do? He drops a big bloody purge waterfall directly onto the Haywoods’ house—OJ’s territory-within-JJ’s territory—like the giant alien version of an animal hiking its leg and marking all over a lower-tier animal’s spot.

This is a warning. This is my place. I rule here.

Then, as if holding onto the statue for last (hell, that may have been the real Strike 1), he moves his big flying Roomba self over to OJ’s truck—which I’d bet JJ definitely recognizes after six months—and just hovers. Hovers. Hovers.

Making sure OJ is paying attention. Then he hacks the statue out like a bad loogie right into the windshield. Assuming it didn’t kill his ‘neighbor,’ it would be a fine lesson:

You are on thin ice. Do not cross me again.

Come morning, what do we find out? Not only is Jean Jacket smart enough to know the humans will react when he moves enough to let the electricity fizzle back on, he immediately moves back overhead to stare down at OJ. My guess? It was a test.

You know better, neighbor. What do you do when I am here? What very smart thing have you done in all our quiet time side by side?

And thank God, it does dawn on OJ in time. Do Not Look. No Eyes On JJ.

So he ducks his head. And, even though he caught a very obvious peripheral glimpse, Jean Jacket still lets that slide. Jean Jacket lets OJ, his sister, and Angel—probably his family/pack in JJ’s POV—scurry away in their silly rolling box. We can’t even say it was because Jean Jacket was still full; the big guy looks like he has whole miles of gut to chow down with.

No, he lets OJ and company off with a few warnings, because the arrangement renewed. And off he goes to settle in his cloud again.

Cut to the run.

I sincerely believe that if it had been any other person on the horse, any other person goading Jean Jacket along the run, they would not have lasted a minute. No, not even with their head down. We’ve seen by now just how fast JJ can move, how quick he can flip from zero to I-Will-Knock-You-Back-Like-a-Shrieking-Tic-Tac. And nobody can say they didn’t clench up when they, like OJ, realized Jean Jacket was hovering right behind him like the world’s most ominous frisbee. Ditto the part where JJ slurped up the TMZ jerk barely a yard away from him and Lucky.

Thiiis close to sucking him up. But no. The dust devil got Mr. TMZ with the precision of a straw.

Then we get to the run—OJ on horseback, JJ being JJ, going fast…but almost at his version of a canter. A brisk walking pace.

That much might be owed to the fact that, unlike all his other prey, the people/horses have gotten a good look at Jean Jacket, then turned to run. With OJ’s staring hoodie, he’s retreating while still looking at/challenging JJ. That’s new! That implies Jean Jacket’s neighbor has his hackles up even as he moves away!

So Jean Jacket gives a comparatively leisurely chase. Then, just when he gets fed up and goes for the vacuum maneuver—surprise! Flags everywhere! Jean Jacket freaks out as expected, twisting away rather than risk gulping up another bad meal. What the hell, OJ, why didn’t you warn JJ you were a statue this whole time?

And, finally, the climax.

OJ looks at Jean Jacket dead on, still sitting on the flag-strung Lucky. This is when Jean Jacket has completely unfolded into what looks like a full intimidation display. These tiny two-legged things have turned into a big flag-covered, barbed wired headache for Jean Jacket. Perhaps even a threat. It’s down to a fight for the territory in JJ’s perspective. Someone has to go. And OJ, the one he ‘knows’ best, the one that had respected and been respected by Jean Jacket most, like two sullen predators in the same cage mutually agreeing not to bother the other, is the one metaphorically baring his teeth first.

Even as he flexes all his freaky jellyfish anatomy, Jean Jacket hesitates.

Does he think this is OJ warning him away? Or is he really instigating a fight to the finish? …Is there a chance OJ could win?

Even when, finally, OJ does begin drawing him along, away from Em’s bike, we never see JJ strike out with his appendages or make another dust devil. He’ll match OJ’s staring contest, he’ll creep closer, but he does not lash out.

It’s only when Em revs up and takes off for Jupiter’s Claim that Jean Jacket gambles on pursuing what he (mis)takes for the less worrisome Haywood. Simply because she looked at him and fled? Because JJ wants another warning to spit up for OJ later? No way to know.

All we see is that OJ, by a mix of hair-thin good fortune and animal training experience, managed to live with, counter, and psych out Jean Jacket enough to earn the man-eating megafauna’s tolerance and enough respect that it edged near worry.

tl;dr: No, OJ was not a magical horse/alien whisperer. But he did gain enough of Jean Jacket’s esteem to give him the best odds of survival, cohabitation and manipulation, simply by being himself, being respectful of the ‘rules’ once he knew them, and being cool as hell while everyone else fell apart or got slurped.

#hope you like text walls #anyway I love it when directors don't spoon-feed the details but leave them there for you to pick up yourself #OJ Haywood #Jean Jacket #Nope 2022 #Nope #horror #jordan peele #spoilers

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carolmunson · 3 months

Text

carol is at the laundromat.

(reader references being formally catholic as a child.)

New guy, you think, when you shuffle through your apartment door and down the hall — spotting him at the end of it. You’d seen him once or twice before in very brief passing. You’re sure he’d never noticed, you barely noticed him. Only that mop of curly brown hair and the clink of his wallet chain.

“Oh here,” he smiles, holding the door open for you that leads into the stairs to the basement.

“I’m actually not going to the laundry room,” you smile politely but tightly.

“You sure?” his brows quirk behind his curly bangs, brown eyes landing on the laundry in your arm.

“I’m sure,” you nod, “I’m going up the street.”

“Why?” he asks, lifting his full laundry bag higher up his shoulder, “There’s laundry in the building.”

“Eh, when your panties start going missing you stop wanting to use the amenity,” you shrug, “Plus, you’re not gonna find one washer open down there right now.”

“And you are? It’s Sunday — peak laundry day,” he counters. You chuckle, shaking your head — it only makes him more intrigued.

“Maybe downstairs,” you shrug, “You new to the neighborhood or something?”

“Seven months.”

“Hmm,” you nod, “Well, if you didn’t notice yet - lot of churches over here. And if time serves me right, church starts around 9 and runs until 10; sometimes 11.”

Your head tilts toward the clock on the yellowed walls of the hallway, “So, 9:15 is the perfect time to go.”

“No way,” he grins, “I don’t know if I buy it.”

“Don’t take my word for it. Everyone’s at church and everyone who isn’t is probably hung over,” you explain, “You wanna come and see for yourself? Washers are weirdly better over there anyway.”

He looks at the stairs and then at you, then at the clock, and the rainy weather outside. The elevator dings, two people walking by with laundry bags to head down the stairs.

With a sigh, he accepts the fate, “Alright, you got me.”

You both venture out into the soft mist of a dark gray Sunday morning, your IKEA bag of dirty laundry weighing heavy on your shoulder.

“Seventh months, huh? Welcome.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

“Ten years,” you laugh, “Not in this building, this is year three. But I’ve been in the area a while.”

“Cool,” he smiles, “I never see you around.”

“I live on the first floor, so our chances of an elevator meet cute are pretty slim,” you pull at the bag again while you turn the corner, he follows suit.

“Oh true, I’m on four.”

“Jealous. Good sun?”

“Yeah,” he smirks bashfully, “Like, really good.”

“That’s good. Though, it’s a good compromise for sharing a floor with Mrs. Slattery.”

“I really thought I was on her good side,” he turns back when he realizes he’s a few steps ahead, “Three weeks in she saw me in a Dio shirt, came home to a cross on my door.”

“She is…” you roll your eyes, crossing the street to the laundromat on the corner, “Easily the most god fearing Catholic I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot.”

You both make your way through the door, loose on its hinges. It’s a dilapidated place, and there’s a better laundromat two more blocks down, but you’re used to this now. The owner in the corner with her earbuds in, listening to gospel while she works on wash and folds. An older man with four bags of clothing on the other side, bedding for the family.

“You weren’t kidding,” he observes the emptiness, putting his laundry over an unused washing machine. There were plenty available for the taking.

“I know,” you murmur while you load your own machine - your favorite one. Row three, four washers down. Medium sized.

He gets to work too, the hardware on his wallet chain and leather jacket jingle like change in the pockets he pulls out of his jeans and sweatpants before he tosses them in to be washed.

Locked and loaded, he stands next to you, “Do you just go back home and come back to switch?”

“I stay for the wash,” you explain, “And then once I switch, there’s a café another block over that I’ve been going to for a while. Normally get breakfast while I wait for my clothes to dry. They have the best fucking biscuits.”

“Okay, okay, I hear that,” he grins, lower lip tucking into his teeth while he pulls his frizzing curls up into a bun at the back of his head, “Mind if I join you?”

“Nah, I don’t mind,” you take a seat on one of the cracked plastic chairs against the windows walls where he follows suit, “Been here almost a year…have you like, explored the neighborhood at all?”

“Honestly?” he holds his shoulders up by his ears with a hint of embarrassment, “Not really. Hate doing shit like that alone.”

“Do you not have friends?” you ask, realizing how accidentally mean it sounds as it comes out. He laughs anyway, heartily.

“Some, not around this area though,” he finishes out with a chuckle.

“Well, I’ll show you the café, there’s a lot of stuff over there that’s pretty cool,” you assure, checking the clock.

“I believe you. I’m not in a position to be saying no to friends in the neighborhood.”

“Good,” you smile, not even caring that you look exactly how you did when you rolled out of bed this morning.

“But if the biscuits are bad, it’s over,” he teases in faux seriousness. Denim leg crossing over the other, Vans now a grey and black from the weather outside.

“You’re gonna be more mad at me over how good they are,” you cross your legging’d legs to match his posture.

“You better hope so,” he huffs playfully, “I’m Eddie by the way.”

“Eddie,” you repeat back, introducing yourself, “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m glad we didn’t have our meet cute on the elevator,” Eddie smiles, “This is much more fun.”

“Also,” he turns, “If you ever wanna see how good the sunlight is upstairs, you can come over if you want.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction

282 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 3 months

Text

Thinkin' 'Bout You, Part 2

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Infidelity. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), oral (male receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play and swallowing, spanking, dirty talk, degradation kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Use of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: As a sneaky link, Stunna is highly demanding of your time. He doesn't care if you get caught; when he wants you, he wants you. He pops up just as your man leaves for the day and as much as you want to resist, you can't.

Word Count: 3,749k

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 3

A/N: I planned for this being a one-shot. While I would NEVER condone cheating in real life, Stunna just screams perfect sneaky link to me. And it's rotting my brain, so enjoy back to back pieces of filth! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe

You were finally free. You loved your man to pieces, but it was rare that you got the house to yourself. Like truly to yourself where you could run around naked without fear of someone creeping up behind you. And you could watch your stories on Lifetime in peace without a certain someone making fun of you for it.

You sat on the couch in one of his T-shirts, absently folding laundry while you watched the premiere of the week. Something about an obsessed paramedic over a high school girl. Well, they were always obsessed in some kind of way.

Your mind drifted as you watched and folded, appreciating the serenity of the moment. Knocking from your back door pulled you back to conscious thought and you growled. If it was those neighbor’s kids again asking about some ball in your backyard, you were going to pop it in their little faces.

All your life growing up, you didn’t kick balls in others’ yards half as much. You knew your parents weren’t going to replace that shit. You got up, grumbling like an old lady and padded your way to your back door.

You opened it, ready to cuss out little kids when Stunna turned and smiled at you.

“Stunna!” You yelped. You looked behind him but obviously, it was just your tiny backyard and nothing else. “What are you doing!”

“Saw that nigga leave. We got plenty of time,” he said. He pushed into your home and you closed the door behind him. Mostly, so your neighbors wouldn’t hear you yelling.

“Stunna, no! You cannot be here!” You yelled. Yet even as your mouth was saying no, your pussy was already growing damp just from how he was looking today. He wore a Black T-shirt and light jacket, dark jeans and boots. His grills flashed as he smiled and looked you over.

“Easy access, my favorite,” he said. He pulled you by the shirt until he could capture your lips with his own. He moaned as he collided with your lips. “Sexy ass fuckin’ lips.”

You gripped his arms, muscles flexing under your fingers. “Stunna, be for real!” You said. You were in deep shit. You promised yourself that the last time he was at your place would be the absolute last. You had cut it entirely too short, getting dicked down in the kitchen while Stunna made you his famous omelet.

There wasn’t an inch of space in your home that you hadn’t been bent into a pretzel and it had to stop. At least here.

Stunna’s hands ran up your thighs and you shivered as if you were freezing. Your body couldn’t feel more overheated. You were breathless already. You knew he promised untold pleasure but you were at constant war with your mind.

“Come on, babygirl. Been feenin’ for this pussy,” he said.

“You always say that, nigga,” you said.

“And I mean it. How I’m supposed to go about my day when I’m hard as shit thinkin’ ‘bout you?” He smiled, knowing you were weak as hell for his smiles.

You found your shoulders dipping and your body relaxing against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and breathed him in. No one smelled as good as him. The scent drove you wild, like an animal going into heat.

You ached. And right now, only his dick would solve that particular ache. “Aight, hurry up then,” you said with a grin.

Stunna grinned and kissed you. His hands went up further and glided across your damp panties. He growled against your lips as his hand slipped underneath your panties to play with your damp slit.

“Talkin’ all that fuckin’ shit while you wet as fuck. Take them panties off and let me see,” he said. He scooted away from you and moved you over to the kitchen table. There was nothing on there but bills, mail, some coupons and a bowl of fruit. Yet now, you had thoughts of being eaten out like a meal on that table.

Your hands shook as you reached under your shirt and pulled down your panties, kicking them off. You lifted the shirt until it was around your hips. Stunna hissed in appreciation, light glinting off of his grills as he looked you over.

He turned you around and bent you over the table roughly, slapping your ass. “What you always fightin’ me for? Like you don’t be cravin’ this dick. I see them messages you send me,” he said.

He bent down so your ass was in his face. He spread your asscheeks and marveled at your wet core. “Mhm, that pussy miss me, don’t she?” He asked.

You tried to remain silent. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of caving so soon. He had to earn his way in there. You should have known better.

He smacked your ass, hard, and you cried out. “I was reading a nasty book before you came over, nigga. Don’t flatter yourself,” you said. You smirked since he couldn’t see you. Stunna hated when you pretended like he wasn’t God’s gift to fucking. But that was when he blew your back out the hardest.

Without warning, he slipped two fingers inside of you. Your essence soaked his fingers and he hummed, finding you so wet. Your knees buckled. “Ion know why you try to lie when I can feel how wet you are,” he said.

His deep, melodious voice was a physical caress all its own. It reached your ears but you felt him everywhere, all at once. He pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, torturously, and you whined, needing more stimulation. You needed more than just his fingers.

“Use your big girl words and tell me what you want,” he said. He continued to slide his fingers in and out. He had long, thick fingers that almost did the job. Almost. Two of those weren’t nearly the size of his dick. That was what you wanted most of all.

“I need you to fuck me,” you said. You were beginning to move your hips in time with his fingers. You didn’t want it nice and slow. That wasn’t what he was here for. He was here to fuck your brains out and leave you well satisfied.

“I’m already fucking you,” he said. You heard the grin in his voice. Bastard.

“I need you to fuck me with that dick, Daddy,” you said. You pitched your voice lower, more sultry, as you dared risk a glance behind you. He was so tall. He loomed over you with a predatory glare.

“Was that so hard, babygirl?” He asked.

“Yes, nigga,” you said and rolled your eyes.

In all honesty, you did not expect him to smack the air from your lungs when he smacked your ass. Heat and pain blossomed on your ass and you struggled for air. You gasped, mouth open like a fish as you tried to stay standing.

“Nasty fuckin’ mouth. C’mere since you think we playin’ games,” he said.

He pulled you by the arm to a standing position. Then he pulled you into the back bedroom and sat down on the bed. His hands flew to his pants and unzipped them.

“Knees,” he growled.

You dropped to your knees and planted yourself between his legs. He was so hot when he was like this. When his words were clipped, barely expending the air to get them out. Only because you weren’t a mind reader. Not yet. You weren’t sure how long this could continue, but until then, you were going to enjoy the ride.

He pushed his pants and briefs down far enough to slap your mouth with his dick. It was already leaking precum and you licked your lips as you stared at his thick head.

“Mhm, gon’ stuff that mouth since you ain’t got no manners,” he said. He pulled your head down onto his dick and moaned when your lips wrapped around him. “That’s it, like a good little bitch, huh?”

You nodded. It was hard to fit all of him inside but he didn’t care. He continued to face fuck you. You watched his face as he did so. Jaw slack, eyes closed. You sucked harder, running your tongue over his mushroom head and tasting the precum there.

“Fuck, suck that shit,” he moaned. He cracked one eye and saw you staring at him. He grinned. “Lookin’ so fuckin’ cute with your mouth closed.”

Your pussy clenched from the unexpected praise even though it was wrapped in such a nasty package. You got off on being his little slut. His nasty little bitch that took whatever he dished out. Took whatever he gave. Yearned for it. Thought about it. Got off to it too many times to name.

You moaned around his dick as he pushed in deeper. Pushed past your natural resistance to take him deeper. Your hands were planted on his thighs just so he wouldn’t fuck you into the back wall, but you moved one lower to fondle his balls.

His hips jerked and he laughed. “Oh, you want me to feed you early today I see. What was all that shit you was talkin’ earlier? Huh?”

You couldn’t talk because his dick was still in your mouth. Yet he kept talking to you as if you could respond.

“Mouth made to take this fuckin’ dick. My god,” he moaned. His hand palmed your scalp as he pushed you up and down on his dick. Your spit and slobber ran down the length of him. He pushed you down a little too far and you gagged and choked on his dick.

“Gotta fix that attitude with this dick, huh,” he said. He slipped out and slapped his dick on your face. On your chin, on your lips. He pushed you back down on his dick until he groaned. “Say ahh,” he said with a snicker as he busted inside of your mouth.

You greedily sucked him down. He moaned as you did so, trying to wring all of it out. Your gulps were filthy, lewd but music to his ears. He said as much as he shook his head and sighed with deep relief.

You reluctantly let his soft dick go with a final pop. He used his thumb to swipe run away cum from your mouth. He shoved his thumb inside and you sucked on that too with pleasure. Your head was pleasantly numb. You just wanted to please him in whatever form he wanted.

You liked being his stress relief. You liked that when his mind was going a mile a minute, plotting against Malcolm and this war between them, he found solace in between your thighs.

“That’s all you needed, was something in your mouth to shut you up?” He asked. You nodded, still sucking on his thumb.

“Good. Always talkin’ shit,” he said. He got up on wobbly knees and hefted you up by placing his hands under your arms. He moved you to the bed where he flipped you onto your back and you yelped.

Couldn’t he use his words like a big boy? Damn. Always manhandling you. But you knew better than to catch an attitude now. He was focused. And he needed no further encouragement to rock your shit.

He fell to his knees and then opened your legs, staring at your dripping essence. He licked his lips and looked at you, before descending on your pussy. You cried out, hands flying to the back of his head.

Mercy was not in his vocabulary. His wide lips latched onto your clit and sucked hard. “Ouue shit,” you wheezed out and gyrated your hips. You tried to scoot away from him. Where did he pull this shit out from?

He’s eaten you out, quite spectacularly before, but this was something new. This was “I haven’t seen you in a year” type of desperation.

“Fuck you going?” He asked. His speech was a little slurred as if he was getting high off of your essence. He wrapped his big hands under your knees and yanked you back to the edge of the bed. You squealed, your hands grabbing onto your bright green covers.

One of his hands held you open while his other slipped down your folds and entered you. “Oh shit! Wait! Stunna, fuck,” you moaned.

He licked his lips while he pumped his fingers into you. Then his mouth joined in and your body was bowing off of the bed. Your whines and whimpers did not assuage him. He kept it up, licking and sucking.

He swirled his tongue around your clit until it was a swollen little bud practically reaching out for him. He slurped up your essence and moaned when more oozed out of him. He licked everywhere and then flicked his tongue against your clit.

“Shit!” You moaned as you finally came on his tongue. Your thighs snapped shut over his ears but he was undeterred. He kept licking and sucking, wet noises that flicked a switch in your brain.

You trembled and cried out, riding that orgasm like a big wave on the ocean. Your lungs burned from panting so hard.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

Stunna placed wet kisses to both of your thighs. He stood and leaned up so he could plant a sloppy kiss to your forehead. He ran his thumb across your lips before pulling you into a kiss. It was a slow, sensual kiss. The kind that made your toes curl.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away. “You gon’ have to make up for that attitude, princess,” he said.

“Wait! I’m sorry!” You whined.

He chuckled as he shed his clothes. His shirt and jacket went flying, followed closely by his shoes, pants and briefs. He grabbed your hands and pulled you into a sitting position so he could take off your shirt.

He groaned as your titties bounced. He fingered one of your nipples, tugging on it, and it had you biting your lip with pleasure. “Stunna, please!” Wasn’t the incredible orgasm enough?

There was no way you could take him now.

“Stunna, please!” He mocked and laughed. He climbed onto the bed and got on his back, making himself right at home as if he was your main. He patted his thighs and waved you over.

You were shaking as you climbed onto him, reverse cowgirl. There was no love in his heart or eyes as he stroked his dick through your sensitive folds. You hissed and sat up, but he pulled one of your arms to make you sit on his dick.

He nearly slammed you onto him and you cried out at the full pressure of him seated inside of you. “Fuck!” You yelled out.

He chuckled behind you and smacked your round ass. “Don’t start crying now. I still gotta feed you,” he said.

He began to rock his hips but he smacked you for you to understand his little lesson. He wanted you to ride him. And God help you if you weren’t doing it properly.

You placed your hands on his long legs and began to bounce on his dick, slowly. The tap, tap, tap had you seeing stars.

“Guess you ain’t that hungry,” he said. His wet thumb encircled your ass and you flew up and off of him. You moaned at the sensation. He pressed his thumb in further, to make sure you knew who it was that was plugging you.

“I’m sorry!” You moaned.

“Fuck that mean to me? Move this ass,” he said and punctuated it with another smack to your ass. At this rate, you wouldn’t be able to sit down all night.

You bounced on his dick in earnest. You were a moaning, writhing mess on top of him. In this position, you felt him more intensely. You felt the slide and glide of his long dick as he fed it to you. His thumb was still in your ass and he used his other to smack your ass periodically. He just liked watching you bounce.

“That’s it. Nasty bitch,” he moaned and smacked you again. You cried out but he only answered with another smack. “I wish you could see the way you grip my shit. Creamy and nasty as fuck. All that lyin’, but yo pussy know who she belong to.”

You contracted around his dick and he moaned again. His moans were driving your pleasure through the roof. The feedback that you were doing a good job was a precious thing that you held close to your heart.

“Ouue, fuck. Ouue fuck,” you moaned as your belly tightened. You were getting so close, he was hitting it so deep inside of you. You slid on his dick until you were leaning back and began convulsing on him.

You screamed out your pleasure, eyes tightly shut and digging your nails into his legs. Your thighs were trembling on his. Your arousal flooded his dick and he groaned from how painfully you were squeezing his dick.

He pushed his hips up and unloaded in you. The hot, wet pulses of his cum coated your insides. You moaned from the sensation of him literally pumping cum.

“That’s it. That’s what that pussy wanted, huh?” He asked.

“Yes, baby,” you moaned.

“Why you gotta make it difficult?” He asked. He stroked your back as you calmed down. Sweat ran down from your temples without abandon.

“I can’t help it, baby,” you said. You slipped off of him and he groaned, watching his cum leak from your pussy. He didn’t let you go far. He immediately pulled you into cuddling with him. You sighed as you rested your head on his chest.

“I need to clean up,” you said.

“Naw, keep it in there,” he said.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear the nigga was trying to get you pregnant. You could see it now, growing that life inside of you knowing fuck well it wasn’t your mans. You hadn’t discussed babies yet, it was too early in the relationship. You could not have a baby with your sneaky link. That went against every single rulebook out there.

“Nasty ass, no!” You said and giggled. He nuzzled your neck, licking your collarbone. His hand came up to squeeze your titty and you sighed.

“Baby, I can’t,” you said.

“You always saying that shit and I always prove you wrong,” he said against your neck. He placed sweet kisses there, enough to make you giggle and shy away from him.

He kissed a hot trail down your neck before he placed the same sweet kisses against your chest. He squeezed your titty until your nipple puckered and then he wrapped his warm mouth around it. You moaned. You were already fucking sore, your ass stung, and you were greedy for more.

A ringtone went off somewhere in the otherwise quiet room and you both groaned. You were always interrupted by someone calling either one of you.

Stunna disentangled himself from you, sat on the edge of the bed and dug his phone out. “Yeah, nigga, what?”

You tuned out his side of the conversion. You didn’t want to be involved in that world. He hung up and hung his head for a moment, before cussing under his breath.

You got to your knees and crawled over to him, wrapping your hands around his neck. You kissed his cheek.

“What’s wrong baby?” You asked.

“Been fuckin’ dying to get over here and now I gotta go deal with some bullshit,” he said. “Man fuck!”

You hid your grin. He was so damn insatiable. In a perfect world, you two would be together all of the time. And he would spend every moment he could buried inside of you and rearranging your guts.

“It’s okay, I gotta clean up the mess you made now,” you said and playfully rolled your eyes. He was starting to really fuss, so you leaned over him, grabbed his chin and turned him to face you.

You planted a small kiss on his lips. “Hey, we’ll just look forward to next time,” you said.

He sighed and nodded, getting up but still cussing under his breath. You watched him throw his clothes back and was mesmerized by the simple domestic act. First his briefs that covered up his long dick.

Then his pants. The zipper enclosed his thickness and your pussy throbbed just thinking of getting another hit of it. Next went his tank, shirt, and jacket and finally his shoes.

“We need some rules about this, Stunna,” you said quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment but also knowing that your heart couldn’t take this extra stress. “You can’t just pop up whenever you want.”

He checked his pockets and grinned at you. Those fucking golds making your stomach do somersaults. He pulled out a wad of cash and peeled off a band for you. He kissed your forehead and placed it in your hand. “Buy yaself somethin’ cute I can rip off later,” he said.

“Stunna, I’m being serious!”

He grinned and grabbed you by the throat. You grabbed his wrist, but he had grabbed you in the perfect spot. It made your eyes roll back and your head go numb.

He placed a soft kiss to your lips and grinned down at you. “I can’t keep my hands off you, babygirl. It’s yo fault for havin’ such a fat, wet pussy.” He kissed you again and released your throat.

“Corny ass nigga,” you muttered.

“What was that?” His hands flew to his pants as if he would take them right back off and dick you down again. As much as you wanted to, your body was weak.

“Nothin’ baby, I’ll see you next time.” You made your voice super, extra sweet and he grinned.

“Fuck I thought.” With that, he was gone. You heard the back door slam again as he disappeared and fucked off down the street to his car. You could imagine that walk of his and it only made you shiver with horniness. You had to get your libido under control.

When he came around, your body had a mind of its own. And that wouldn’t do. You groaned as you pulled sheets off of the bed to wash and replace them on the bed. So much for a quiet day watching your stories.

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 3

210 notes · View notes

fishcat480 · 5 months

Text

Go Timberwolves!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Plus size! cheerleader!reader

Description: You're a cheerleader and Elijah is in the stands. Your friend Jessica notices him first.

Warnings: none

____________________________________________________________

“Who is that?”

Jessica was looking over at the stands and toward a group of guys, all sitting next to each other. They looked hilariously out of place, all seemingly dressed for different events. The one with reddish hair and kiss-me lips was wearing a velvet jacket over a v-neck, three necklaces dangling over his heart. You’d seen him hanging around before, and recognized him as Rebekah’s brother Klaus. How many times had he been watching Caroline from the sidelines during a game or desperately offering to walk her to her car? Doubtful that Jessica didn’t know who that was, or that he was clearly obsessed with everyone’s favorite blonde.

Then there was the youngest of the three. He was dressed pretty normally for a high school football game in a t-shirt and jeans. He spoke animatedly to Klaus, who looked about as thrilled to listen as he would have been to get struck by lightning. His name was escaping your memory, but it was another K name, you were sure of it. Kyle! No…Kal?

All thoughts of K names were stripped from your thoughts the second your eyes landed on Jessica’s mystery man.

His hair was dark, and his eyes were darker. His features were angular, practically Grecian. He was wearing a suit, which was ridiculous because who wore a suit in Mystic Falls unless they were a realtor or attending a Lockwood party? Somehow, though, he pulled it off so perfectly that there was no question that he should be wearing it.

Never had you been so struck by a stranger. His eyes scanned over the crowd, and across the field, before landing squarely on you.

You blushed and turned away, heart thundering in your chest.

Elena and Bonnie had followed Jessica’s gaze too, and gave each other knowing looks. You were friendly with Elena but not close. You and Bonnie had been good friends since middle school, though, so you felt no shame sidling up to her and joining her conversation.

“Info on Jessica’s mystery man?” you asked, spreading your legs as you sat next to Bonnie, beginning to stretch. She laughed and gave you a stern look. “He’s Klaus’ older brother. No mystery.”

You bent forward, stretching out your back and Bonnie followed suit. “Off limits?” you ask, trying to seem curious but not invested.

“Yes.” she said quickly. Elena smacked Bonnie’s thigh.

“Elijah is not off limits.” she said. “He’s actually the only one out of the three of them I’d say is pretty on…limits…”

Elijah....you tried the name out in your head. Yes, you decided, that was a good name.

You all giggled. “I mean, Klaus is just too in love with Caroline.” you shrugged. “I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere near him.”

You sat up and bent your neck to the side, eyeing the rest of the cheerleaders. “Hey, where is Caroline?”

“Tyler drama.” Bonnie said conspiratorially. She sat upright, finished with her stretching. “He’s leaving again.”

“Shit.” you said, finishing up yourself. “I don’t really know what she sees in him anyway. He’s always been kind of an asshole. And Klaus seems to really like her.”

“Well Klaus needs to earn her.” Elena said hastily, turning away slightly. You weren’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but if Bonnie’s similarly agitated face was any indication, there was something going on that you weren’t in on. It wasn’t really any of your business anyway, you conceded, so you didn’t harp on it. Boy drama was so not your thing.

There was a fanfare suddenly, as the marching band began playing the introduction music for the Timberwolves. Rebekah stood and called you and the other cheerleaders into formation.

Once the players began coming out, you’d go right into the classic Timberwolves fighting cheer.

Just as the first player was making his entrance, a blonde head appeared next to you, startling you. It was as if she'd appeared out of thin air.

“Caroline!” you said, throwing a hand on your chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

She smiled nervously. “Did I?”

You just laughed and joined the rest of the girls in the Timberwolves fighting chant, shaking your pom-poms and kicking your legs up.

The game didn’t start out super well for the Timberwolves, so you didn’t have a ton to do for awhile. You spoke to Caroline briefly about Tyler, but she didn’t want to say much, and she seemed genuinely upset about something. You weren’t close enough with her to give her emotional support, so you instead distracted her with a quick game of fuck, marry, kill between the three handsome Mikaelson boys.

“Kill Kol, Marry Klaus, Fuck Elijah.” Caroline said confidently. Kol! That was his name.

She was speaking a bit loudly, like she wanted someone to hear her. Probably Jessica.

You glanced up at the stands and noticed Klaus and Kol with their heads bent together. Elijah looked completely nonplussed.

“What about you?” she asked.

You glanced up at the brothers again. Elijah was looking in your direction now, almost as if he was listening to your conversation. He was probably just looking at the cheerleaders. He definitely wasn’t admiring you - you were the only girl on the squad who wore a uniform above a size large.

Still, you couldn’t help but fantasize about the idea of the three of them. Kol wasn’t really your type, so he was an easy kill. Klaus was gorgeous, to be sure, but something about Elijah was still singing through your veins after laying eyes on him that first time.

“Kill Kol, fuck Klaus, marry Elijah.”

Caroline gave you a wicked smile. “Elijah, huh?”

You shrugged. “He’s incredibly good looking.”

“Poor Kol.” Caroline said, her lip pouting.

“Rejection builds character.”

You glanced up again, and Elijah looked as if he might be laughing - Klaus too. Kol had his arms crossed against his chest. Weird….

Rebekah shrieked all of a sudden, breaking you out of your thoughts, as the Timberwolves finally scored, and the squad got on their feet to cheer.

The game ended with a Timberwolves win which you were thankful for - every win meant half price burgers at the grill. You and a few other girls planned to go there after, and you grabbed your stuff from the locker room, hoping to get to your car and beat them there - you were not going to be the fat girl in a mini skirt sliding into a booth full of people.

Bonnie, Elena and Caroline were all leaving together, huddled in conversation.

“Half price burgers, ladies?” you asked, walking backwards in front of them. “A Timberwolves win is a win for all of us.” you joked, quoting your incredibly cringy gym coach.

The girls laughed, but shook their heads.

“Homework.”

“Boy drama.”

“Tired.”

They’d all spoken at the same time, and you gave them all an incredulous look. “Ladies, I’m heartbroken. Next time if you’re going to break my heart, do it one at a time.”

You gave them a winning smile, and they returned it easily, thankful you hadn’t been upset.

“Next time I’m making you guys go!” you called, still walking backwards as you exited the hallway out of the locker room. You backed into the double doors leading to the parking lot and called a goodbye to them, turning around.

And slamming right into someone.

“Oh!” you cried, toppling towards the asphalt. The ground never came, though, because a pair of hands was holding you steady, and lifted you slowly upwards until you were staring Elijah Mikaelson in the face.

“My apologies.”he said, in a voice that hit that your ears and sent shivers straight to the apex of your thighs. Your jaw dropped, suddenly faced with his nearness.

“Not at all!” you cried. “I wasn’t looking.”

Not too far away stood Kol and Klaus. The former was watching you and Elijah, looking like he was trying very hard not to laugh. Klaus, of course, had become distracted the moment Caroline had appeared. He was stalking towards her, and to your surprise, Caroline looked like she might be walking towards him too. Normally she brushed him off completely.

You focused your attention back on Elijah.

“Excellent job tonight.” he said, his eyes locked on yours. You felt flushed from the unbroken eye contact, but didn’t dare break it.

“Thanks. It makes our job a bit easier when the team actually manages to score.”

He laughed, full and bright, and it made your heart soar to hear it.

“I’m Y/N.” you said, introducing yourself.

“Elijah. Mikaelson.”

“Nice to meet you Elijah.”

You offered your hand and he took it firmly in yours, but rather than shake it, he brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it. Ok, you were officially a puddle on the ground and people were going to have to step in you to get to their cars.

“Hi!” came a bubbly voice, and you glanced over seeing Jessica. Of course she was going to try and stake her claim.

“I’m Jessica.” she said, sidling up next to you. “I saw you in the stands earlier. You’re a Mikaelson, aren’t you?”

Elijah nodded politely. “My reputation precedes me.”

Jessica smiled her flirty smile and pushed her chest out. “Rebekah and I are good friends. I make a point to know my friends’ families. It’s only good manners.”

You rolled your eyes involuntarily from behind Jessica, who had stepped into your space. When had she ever spent time with Rebekah outside of practice? She was clearly making her claim known, and you huffed, backing off.

A guy like Elijah wouldn’t be interested in you, anyway. It would have been nice to at least been given a chance, though, before perfect little Jessica had to come in and do her thing.

You sighed to yourself. That wasn’t nice. Jessica was your friend. It just sucked, sometimes, being the only bigger girl in a group of girls. Things were different for you.

“Well, I’ll let you two get acquainted.” you said, and Jessica quickly told you not to wait up for her at the Grill. You smiled encouragingly at her, even though you would have rather eaten nails. Jessica did technically see Elijah first, though, so regardless, the rule of dibs was firmly in place. Elijah’s eyes met yours and he looked…disappointed? It was probably nothing.

As you turned to go to your car, Matt Donovan brushed past you, walking fast. “Sorry, Y/N!” he called, power walking to his truck. You shook your head, laughing. You’d never seen Matt move that fast for anything, not even out on the field.

The other girls had made their way out now, and you caught up with them briefly to let them know you'd be going home instead of out. You weren't really in the mood for celebration any more. They gave you tight hugs and told you to call them in the morning, and you gave them all the finger just to get a laugh out of them.

Bonnie was leaning against her car when you made your way to yours.

“Why’d you do that?” she asked, giving you a curious look.

“Why’d I do what?” you said, tossing your duffle into the backseat.

“You just let Jessica take over. You were talking to Elijah first.”

“Yeah, but Jessica saw him first. Besides, I bumped into him. It’s not like we talked about anything profound.”

Bonnie sighed. “You wanted to talk to him though.”

You crossed your arms. “Yeah, so?”

“So!” she cried, placing her hands on your shoulders. “So you’re the funniest girl on the planet, and you're beautiful and talented and you deserve to be happy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

“It’s true! You’re amazing.”

“I know, I just wanted you to say more.”

Bonnie shoved at you playfully. “See? Your wit is unmatched.”

“And you’re kind.” you said seriously. “And a really, really good friend.”

Bonnie looked down, her mouth quirked to the side. “Thank you.”

A laugh echoed from across the parking lot, and you stared at Caroline and Klaus standing by Caroline’s car. They were standing close together and laughing, and Klaus’ finger was twirled around a strand of Caroline’s hair.

You hit Bonnie in the shoulder and pointed.

“Ummmmmm?” You gave her an incredulous look.

“I know!” Bonnie said, coming to lean against your car. “She said she broke up with Tyler. She said she’s done with wishy-washy.”

You smiled happily as the two continued flirting. “I’ve been dying for them to get together.”

“No, literally!” She threw her hands up in the air. “The tension was incredibly cuttable.”

You snorted. “Like, thick enough I think I’d need a chainsaw.”

Bonnie hid her giggle behind her hand. You watched Klaus and Caroline as Bonnie began asking you if you were still going to the grill. You wished you had a guy to flirt with against your car.

“I’m kind of hungry all of a -”

Bonnie’s voice trailed off, and you tore your eyes away from the happy couple to stare at your friend.

“Bon?”

Her eyes were trained behind you, a small smile on her lips. You followed her eyes, and there was Elijah. His nearness startled you, and you jumped a foot in the air.

“My apologies.” he said, amusement in his eyes.

“We have got to stop meeting like that.” you responded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Bonnie called, already on the other side of her car and hopping in the front seat. You gave her an incredulous look.

“Traitor!” you called, as she began to pull out. She looked completely self righteous as she pulled out of the parking lot, Britney blasting on her speakers.

“Well..” you breathed, turning back to Elijah. “Twice in one night? To what do I owe my great fortune?”

He shrugged. “I have a thing for cheerleaders.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, are you serious?”

He laughed. “No, not at all. But I saw you from the stands and wanted to get to know you better. So here I am.”

You couldn’t help the huge smile overtaking your face. Elijah Mikaelson wanted to get to know you?

“What about Jessica?”

He shrugged. “She’s a nice girl. Not really my type.”

“And I am?”

He huffed. “Am I not making myself clear? Shall I fetch a plane and spell it out in the sky for you?”

I shook my head, faux serious. “It’s nighttime Elijah. I’d never be able to see that.”

He snorted - actually snorted. It was the most adorable thing you might have ever heard.

“You’re a minx, and you know it. Now agree to go to dinner with me.”

“Half price burgers at the grill?”

He smiled wryly. “No, that won’t do. I’m a full price kind of guy. I need candles, roses, the whole chair pulling out thing. Carlo’s. Friday night. Eight o’ clock.”

Carlo’s was like, ridiculously nice. And expensive. “But that’s-”

“It’s what?” he challenged. “Because if you’re suggesting I can’t afford it…”

You shook your head. “No, of course not. I’m sure you can. But I can’t!”

Faster than you could even fathom, Elijah was backing you up into the side of your car, his hands locked on either side of you, face inches away from your own. His eyes were dark and bore into you, making your palms begin to sweat.

“I’m not in the habit of taking women out on dates and having them pay.” His breath fanned across your face. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, and you shivered. His presence was intoxicating.

“Have I made myself clear?” he asked, and damn if that question didn’t excite you. You nodded, your breath hitching, and he leaned even closer to you for a moment before pushing himself away.

“Good!” he declared, and once he backed off, he took a moment to rake his gaze across your body. Your uniform did little for the imagination, and you were kind of thankful.

“See you soon, Y/N.” He called sweetly, shifting from domineering to polite so quick you had whiplash. You watched him go, a dopey smile on your face.

“Wait!” you called. “Do you want my phone number?”

He paused, then reached into his pocket for his phone. He typed for a moment, then locked the screen and placed it back in his pocket.

Your phone dinged.

Tell Bonnie I said thank you.

You smirked. Of course Bonnie had given him your number. You'd have to remember to get her a thank you gift.

As you started your car and got ready to go, movement from the car behind you caught your attention in your mirror. You struggled to see clearly what it was, but when you did, you were shocked.

There, in the pickup truck Rebekah Mikaelson had gifted him, was Matt Donovan making out with her brother Kol.

You laughed all the way home, imagining the look on Rebekah’s face when she finds out.

245 notes · View notes

21wanderer · 5 months

Text

Empyrean Wear

Body a day - #6: Mirror

“Looking good…” Ronald mumbled satisfyingly to himself, whilst snapping a photo in the mirror.

The employee benefits at this airport luxury boutique was something else… With the help of his manager and his colleagues, they had managed to turn browsing customers into skinsuits in the dressing room, they’d then let an employee put on the skinsuit and pay the exorbitant prices of these luxury garments, plus a little extra, then leave the boutique and resume the customer’s life.

Ronald was just the next in the long line of employees at Empyrean Wear, when he saw this guy heading into the dressing room with a thick leather jacket, he knew, he wanted him and he immediately informed his manager.

His colleague treated the customer with top-quality customer service as they guided him to the dressing room, not even mentioning the customer bringing his suitcase with him inside.

Ronald was too excited to be near the customer. Five minutes passed, then his manager came to him at the till: “The dressing room is ready for you now, Ronald. Better hurry.” The manager winked at him and Ronald hurried to the dressing room, where he found the unconscious body of the customer, completely hollow and ready to be worn.

Ronald exited the dressing room with a confident swagger, slowly getting accustomed to his new size. His colleague and manager smiled at him as he approached the polished counter. “Looking good, Ronald,” said the manager with a mischievous grin, “I take, it will be some time, before we see you again.” “His flight is not for another two hours,” Ronald answered, but he knew, that he would have to leave soon to catch this guy’s flight, not knowing when, how or if he would return.

“You look amazing, that’s for sure,” said the manager. “But you’ll need some high-quality jeans to go with your leather jacket, you can’t wear those track pants with that,” he continued with a wink and threw a pair of the most expensive jeans in the entire store at him. And he wasn’t done ‘selling’ him fine equipment.

An hour and a half later, Ronald had to bid farewell to his colleagues, and head for the gate for a future unknown, wearing a brand new jacket, jeans, dress shoes and sunglasses, an entirely new outfit, except the customer’s old hoodie, which Ronald had decided to keep. He may have left the boutique 13,500€ poorer, but he had gained so much more, which you can’t put a price tag on.

#male body transformation #body theft #male bodysuit #male body suit #body suit tf #body a day #male skinsuit

164 notes · View notes

bitten-fruit · 3 months

Text

you invite him inside

It's Summer 2007, and you're on your way home from a party in Edinburgh. You encounter an exceptionally forward Scottish stranger with a buzzed head and a brow ring, calling himself Soap - you roll the dice, and let him walk you home.

18+ MDNI - cw: reader is drunk - 5k words

tags: Indie Sleaze(!!) Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x f!Reader, teasing & denial, flirting & banter

a/n: this is (some) of the first chapter of my longfic Trainspotting on A03, bitterfruit. I thought I'd share on here since I'm working on a part 2!! ♡

You carve through the beating crowd of the house party; sloshing drinks and drunken hands intercept you as you attempt to navigate your way to the front door. MGMT’s Kids thunders from the speakers in the hallway, its deafening volume only exacerbated by the passionate chanting of the dancers that hover around it.

Control yourself! Take only what you neeeed from it!

Your friend Katie, who had brought you as a plus-one, had long disappeared with some boy she had been all over - taking your coat with her - leaving you to make your way home in nothing but your needlessly skimpy playboy bunny costume.

Finally stumbling out of the dense jungle of partygoers, you burst through the front door as if you’d just been birthed, sweaty and panting.

Just a fifteen-minute walk.

With your arms crossed, you trudge down the steps in the stiletto pumps you had borrowed from Katie – glossy, sharp, and a size too small. Fuck, they ache. Before you even make it past the gate, you throw in the towel and unstuff your feet from their latex trappings; holding the shoes with two fingers hooked at the heels, doing your best to avoid stepping on the broken glass on the footpath.

As your distance from the house party grows and the echoes of Paper Planes begin to fade, it dawns on you that you’re far drunker than you had believed yourself to be. Being surrounded by students two boxes and three pingers deep has the tendency to make you feel staunchly sober by comparison.

Still, you feel the slabs of concrete wobbling beneath your feet, your head starts to spin like you’ve stepped off a carousel if you shut your eyes for too long. The streets are utterly quiet, devoid of cars or people, despite the neighbourhood’s proximity to the CBD. You may well have found it off-putting if you were sober, but in truth, you’re just thanking Christ there’s nobody around to see you trotting down the road in nothing but a bodysuit and fishnets. You imagine a car might pull up alongside you, rolling slowly on its wheels as the driver asks through his window, “how much for an hour?”

And that would almost be preferable to what you actually encounter once you’re halfway home – crossing the street, stumbling in your bare feet as you walk past shops with steel shutters blocking their doors and windows.

You hear the distinctive thuds of sprinting feet from far behind you; the soles of sneakers slamming hard on the footpath, in a rapid enough pace that the person might as well be an Olympian runner. As they get louder, closer, your first instinct is to flee – but before you even have the chance to turn to look over your shoulder, the sprinter has come to a screeching halt beside you, tearing off their jacket and tossing it over your shoulders as if it were a cape.

“What the fu–” You yelp, hastily cut short.

“Shh – shut up, pretend y’know me.”

A man, and a local, evidently – the kind of Scottish accent so thick you can barely distinguish the beginning of one word from the end of another.

“Get away fr–”

He interrupts you once again, tossing an arm over your shoulder as he walks alongside you, shoving his other fist into the pocket of his loose black jeans. “Please, lassie, do me a favour and just go with it.”

Amidst his breathlessness he sounds quite desperate – voice deep and warm, oozing sincerity despite the edge in his tone. So you weigh your options, whether or not to trust him, or to help him, or to scream and flee. You tilt your head just enough to take a peek at him; he hunches over, shoulders shrugging high as if keeping his neck warm, head low like it might hide his buzzcut from whoever may be chasing him.

You quickly discover that there are, in fact, people chasing him – more echoes from further down the road of multiple sets of running feet. You hear an enraged roar from a man behind you; your body tenses on instinct, head twisting further in the hopes of checking how close they are to you.

“Don’t look at ‘em,” he instructs you pointedly, under his breath.

More indistinguishable yelling erupts from his pursuers, though they no longer seem to be approaching. “Cheap fucken’ trick, ye fucken’ coward!”

“Keep walkin’ with me,” he mutters, tugging you along with his heaving arm draped around the back of your neck, forcing you to accelerate so that you can keep up with him.

Adrenaline throbbing hotly in your ears, you try to steal glances at the controlling stranger, not able to see much of him in your periphery. You realise now that the gifting of his jacket was not a chivalrous gesture, but a failed attempt to trick his pursuers. “Sounds like they’ve spotted you,” you whisper-yell, facing ahead.

“Aye,” he grunts, “but they won’t touch me if there’s a witness.”

“I don’t want to be a witness,” you squeak, nervous terror in your throat.

He chuckles breathily, gives a single shake of his head. “Too late.”

“Next time I see ye, yer a fucken’ dead man, hear me? With or without yer hoor!”

The stranger groans as he scoops you around a corner, keeping a hurried pace, shooting looks over his shoulder to ensure he’s no longer being followed. Fortunately – or, unfortunately – this was the corner you would have taken anyway.

“Did he just call me a whore?” You whisper, still in shock.

He chortles at you again, sliding his weighty arm from your shoulders and releasing you at long last. “Ignore ‘em. Fucken' wankers.”

You finally have the opportunity to turn around fully to check behind you, seeing only empty, silent street.

“They won’t follow us,” he assures you, still walking alongside you, arrogant in his assumption that you won’t tell him to fuck off.

But you don’t, not yet. “Why – why were they chasing you?”

“Nosy wee thing, aren’t ye?” He smiles, crossing his arms, and you finally get a good look at him.

Hair buzzed short, the sort of job he likely did himself over his sink with an electric clipper plugged into the wall. A curved barbel pierces through the tail of his left eyebrow, almost as flashy as the sharp grey eyes pointing down at you from beneath it. His grin pushes dimples into his densely stubbled cheeks, revealing charmingly crooked teeth, and a golden crown on his right canine.

There’s something tired, jaded about him, dark eyes and low brows; face speckled with a variety of little scars, one white slash through his right eyebrow, a few pink lines carving over his temple and through his shaven scalp.

You blink, reminding yourself to speak.

“Nosy?” You snap, “you brought me into this!”

He tilts his head, appearing to acquiesce. “Aye, true. They’re just mad ‘cos I short-changed ‘em.”

As he shrugs, the hem of his cropped t-shirt tugs up on his stomach, revealing the hem of plaid boxers sticking out from his baggy trousers, a sliver of firm abdomen, a dusting of curly hair trailing down from his navel. You swallow.

“Hm. For what?” You pester.

“Now yer bein’ nosy.”

You huff, crossing your arms underneath the cape of his jacket, checking over your shoulder one last time to be certain you’re no longer being stalked.

“Fine,” you pout. After a beat of silence, you decide to add; “I’m not a prostitute, by the way.”

He snickers hoarsely, “’course not. Prostitutes are much more subtle. You’d be the first I’ve ever seen dressed as a – a what, a bunny?”

He reaches behind you, the cocky prick, lifting the back of his cloaking jacket and flicking the puffball pinned to your ass. You gawk at him, a surge of adrenaline buzzing within your chest – curious, that it’s not out of fear but fascination.

“See a lot of prostitutes, do you?” You sneer, noting how briefly his gaze lingers on your backside before it flits to your face.

“Not ‘round this side of town,” he chortles. You suspect he’s joking, but who’s to say? “So… why a bunny?”

“Playboy bunny,” you correct him, turning your head to glance at him; he just looks bewildered. “Pimps and hoes party.”

He laughs, richly, lurching forward as he does. “Ha! Had no idea they still did those.”

“Sure do,” you say, failing to suppress your grin. “Too old for them, are you?”

“Aye, for house parties full o’ students,” he admits, “but not too old to party. M’only twenty-six.”

You smile. “Good for you.”

“Got no girlie-mates to walk ye home?” He changes the subject.

Peeking at him, you squint. “You’re not supposed to ask a girl if she’s alone, you know.”

“Oh,” he frowns, “why’s that?”

“Like, stranger danger.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles deeply. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”

You turn to look at him, running your eyes from his cocksure grin, down to his Chucks and back again. He certainly looks the part. Rough around the edges. You wonder if you would have avoided him, had he not approached you so blithely.

“Very,” you nod. “Plus, you’re following me.”

“Am I?” He jibes, “well, love, if ye want me to leave y’alone, tell me and I’ll try to leave ye be.”

Your pout shifts into a girlish smirk despite your dire efforts to contain it. “You’ll try?”

“Mm. Might be easier said than done,” he ribs, leering down at you. Your quiet titter only serves to embolden him. “It’s probably for the best that I found ye.”

“You reckon?”

“Mm. Not very bright o’ye to be walking home by yerself at this hour. And in that.”

You click your tongue impatiently. “You sound like my mum.”

“Then she’s a smart woman,” he says, with a sternness that leaves you taken aback.

You peer up at him, scrutinising. For fuck’s sake, you curse at yourself, get a grip. All better judgement, your guardian angel, screams at you to stop flirting with this bizarre studded stranger and hurry your ass home. But the little devil on your other shoulder is far more interested in seeing how this unusual interaction plays out.

“You gonna protect me, are ya?” You probe.

“Naturally,” he chuffs.

“Walking me home, then?”

A devilish grin stretches in his lips. “Happily.”

“Promise you’re not a psychopath or something?”

He inhales deeply, blowing a raspberry as he puts his hands on his hips. “No promises.”

“Mm. Well, I shouldn’t be surprised,” you say, “only psychopaths would roam the streets at three-a.m.”

“Yeah? What does that make you?”

You giggle. “Shit. You got me.”

“You bet I do. What kind of psycho wears a fucken’ outfit like that ‘on the streets at 3-a.m.’?”

Taking a peek down at yourself, you’re confronted immediately by your obnoxious cleavage, unsure how you could have forgotten it was there. You decide to slip your arms into the roomy sleeves of his jacket, wearing it properly rather than as a cloak – much warmer.

“What’s wrong with it?” You wonder in jest, feigning offence.

“Yer jokin’.” He scoffs.

“What?” You gaze at him, with a cock of your brow; he unashamedly glowers at you, vibrantly grey eyes raking from your lips to your feet before climbing back to your stare.

He huffs petulantly. “I could see yer tits from across the street,” he murmurs, “don’t make me say something about the stockings.”

You laugh coyly, feeling your cheeks burn hot and red. Seems like you got the answer you wanted. “S’that why you ran up to me, huh?”

He shakes his head. “Nae. That was just dumb luck.”

“Ah. Lucky you.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles, voice low, “very lucky.”

Why is your heart fluttering? Why are you suddenly hanging on his every word like a fucking teenage girl? You blame the cherry-flavoured RTDs you were knocking back every ten minutes while you were at that party. They’ve made your cheeks all pink and your tongue all wet.

Yet in the current quiet, strolling nonchalantly down an empty street at half-past three in the morning, you don’t feel any awkwardness in the silence. You just smile at your feet like an idiot.

“What’s yer name, then?” He asks casually, both fists in his pockets.

You hum in thought, “hmm. I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“You’re a stranger, remember?”

“So?” He disputes, grinning and playfully biting his bottom lip with his top teeth, brandishing that glistening golden canine.

You shake your head. “Who knows what you could do with my name! You could be a stalker for all I know,” you explain defensively, “you might find out where I work on MySpace, or something.”

He snickers. “Wouldn’t need MySpace to figure that out, lass.”

Frowning, you give him a disapproving smirk. “You’re proving my point.”

“Ye really won’t tell me?”

“Nope.”

He huffs disappointedly. “Alright, then, I’ll just have to call ye the bunny I found on the street.”

“Fine by me,” you declare proudly. “What can I call you, then? The playboy?”

With a chuckle, he purses his lips in contemplation. “The playboy to yer bunny, I like that,” he says. “But, pals call me Soap.”

“Soap?” You question incredulously, “seriously?”

“Aye. If I can’t have yer name, y'can’t have mine.”

You snort. “Is it meant to be ironic?”

“Can’t be,” he refutes, quick to detect your insult, “I’m clean as a whistle.”

As you open your mouth to offer back some snippy response, you spot your mailbox, number eighteen, three terraced townhouses down – you had lost track of how long the walk was, your charming stranger having sponged up every last drop of your attention.

You find yourself disappointed, unjustifiably; you even consider, briefly, not mentioning that you had arrived home just so you can keep walking with him. God, you’re pathetic.

But imagining yourself having to eventually turn around, having to admit that you purposefully missed your stop – you begrudgingly decide to be a good girl and put yourself to bed.

“This is me,” you say flatly, slowing your steps before you come to a stop.

“Ah,” he stops beside you and rocks on the balls of his feet. “Bugger.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, mindlessly slipping your hands into the pockets of his jacket, preceding a reluctant silence. “Well, um... thanks for walking me home. Who knows what danger I could’ve gotten into.”

He waves away your jocose gratitude. “Oh, ‘course,” he says, “had to make sure ye didn’t get tricked into a chase by some strange gadgie.”

You snicker. “Oh, yeah. That would be terrifying.”

Crossing his arms, her gives you a wide but wistful grin. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it, hen.”

“Okay,” you nod, chewing your lip, you feel something in his pocket – rolling it between your fingers, feels like a wad of paper. Cash? A receipt? You start to wonder what he might have ‘short-changed’ those thugs for. Don’t be nosy. “Oh – your jacket.”

As you slip it off your shoulders, he disputes; “don’t wanna keep it as a memento?”

You chuckle, frowning, shaking your head in bemusement. Memento? What a peculiar bloke. “No. It sorta smells.”

“Bollocks,” he retorts, reaching to take the jacket from you – a brown leather bomber, now that you can see it properly. “I smell divine.”

God, he does. Like patchouli and sweat and leather; some sort of earthy masculine concoction, the kind of scent that’s probably entirely accidental – underpinned, you note, by something strangely chemical, like he had just taken a walk through a hospital. Still, so delightfully distinct from the stench of Axe body spray that the boys at your university gassed themselves with daily.

You pass him the bomber, shivering once your scantily clad body is once again exposed to the chilly air of the night. He’s quite shameless, this stranger, eyes almost bulging as they comb brazenly over you – legs, hips, tits – finally getting a good look at you, he takes his time.

“Eyes up here, playboy,” you chide.

He smirks, piercing gaze jumping to yours while his head remains tilted down; you’re almost intimidated the intensity of his eye contact from under his brow. “Aye. They’re just as pretty.”

“Alright, alright,” you giggle, face glowing hot. “I’d better turn in.”

“Yes, you’d better.”

Before you bring yourself to turn around, his hand reaches toward you, plucking the bunny-eared headband from the top of your head.

“Oi!” You bark, smoothing your disturbed hair; watching in confusion as he meticulously sits them on his head, flicking one of the fuzzy white ears with a pleased grin stretched in his lips.

“I want a memento,” he explains boldly. “Never know when I'm dreamin’ these days.”

You stare at him in bewilderment, amused and oddly endeared. He slips on his jacket, stuffing his hands into his pockets and shrugging it over his shoulders.

“Fine, all yours,” you capitulate, smiling meekly, once again letting a pregnant silence linger while you resist a goodbye. “Um. Alright. Goodnight. Soap.”

He nods. “G’night, wee bunny.”

You nod, too, finally turning on your bare feet and walking up the stairs of your flat’s brick stoop. Fumbling around in your handbag, you pluck out your keys – jingling loudly with all of your various keychains as you unlock the painted white door.

You hear his footsteps as he strolls away, slowly, growing duller as the distance grows. You find yourself frozen in the open doorway, staring into the dark abyss of your foyer, facing solitude. Bouncing in dispute with yourself, you exert all strength to bite your tongue. Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid.

He starts to whistle, some obscure tune from just down the street, as if he is purposefully reminding you he’s still in earshot – a smug little prompt.

Fuck it.

Spinning around to face the road, you lean out of the door, and call out; “Hey!”

As though he had expected it, he stops in his tracks, twirling on his heel to face you with his hands still in his pockets. Had lit himself a cigarette already, in the thirty seconds since you had bid him farewell.

“Hm? Want the ears back after all?”

“Um–” You scramble to come up with an excuse. “Those guys won’t be looking for you, will they?”

He grins. “Oh, they could well be.”

“What’ll they do if they find you?”

“Who knows,” he huffs. “Probably kill me. Might gimme one o’ those Glasgow smiles.”

“That would be pretty terrible,” you remark solemnly.

“Aye. It sure would.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, battling with your drunken little demon. “Maybe you should hide out here for the night.” You daft bitch.

“Hm,” he ponders aloud, sauntering slowly back towards your stairs, squinting in thought. “Sounds like a bad idea.”

“How come?” You challenge, tapping the inside of the doorframe with shy fingers.

He creeps up your short footpath. “Never know what might happen.”

Your lips curl into an impish smirk. “That’s the best part.”

He laughs, plucking the cigarette from his teeth, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “How drunk are ye. On a scale one-through-ten.”

“Um,” you muse, biting your lip. “I’m not that drunk.”

“Well, hen, you must be steamed. ‘Cos that’s not a number.”

You snicker, then groan impatiently. “Four.”

“Only four, eh?” He asks dubiously, standing at the base of your stairs, he gazes up at you devilishly. “You gonna remember in the mornin’ that you asked me to come in?”

“’Course,” you say. “I want you to come inside.”

He sneers. Filthy boy. “Don’t wanna get in trouble,” he refutes.

“I want you to come in,” you insist, correcting your wording just slightly.

He hums, feigning deep thought, as if he hasn’t been hoping you’d ask. “Alright,” he surrenders. “Why not.”

You do your best to conceal your glee, nodding, grinning, you turn to step inside and you hear him follow you.

“Ye live alone?” He asks, as he looks around the empty hallway, shrouded in darkness.

Shutting the door behind you and locking it, you tut at him. “Still shouldn’t ask that.”

“You’ve already invited me in,” he jeers, “if you’re worried I’ll hurt ye, you’ve made it well easy for me.”

“I s’pose so,” you admit, smiling sheepishly as you go to switch on the light hanging in the centre of the foyer. Christ, it’s a tip – you and Katie are equally dishevelled, leaving shoes and lip gloss and hair ties and clothes in your wake wherever you venture. “Can’t be too careful,” you add – very aware of how uncareful you are being.

“Do I scare ye?” He asks coyly, taking a raffish drag of his cigarette.

“I dunno,” you answer frankly, leaning bashfully against your front door with your hands tucked behind you. “Should I be scared of you?”

“Mm,” he shrugs, “probably.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Stranger danger,” you remind yourself.

“I reckon you’re a lot more dangerous than me,” he grins.

You frown. “Why’s that?”

He puts his cigarette between his lips, holding it with a pinch, taking a puff as he eyes you scrupulously. “Look at you.”

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Fucking hell.

“I have a flatmate,” you finally answer his initial question, and change the subject. “But she’s not home tonight.”

“Good,” he says, milky smoke spilling from his smile.

“Um,” you make noises to fill your flustered silence. “Want to go upstairs?”

He cocks his eyebrows. “Lead the way.”

Pushing yourself from the door, you slip past him and trot up the staircase that sits flush with the panelled wall. The old oak creaks and moans under the weight of his heavy steps, he follows you steadily.

Rushing to get to your room before he can see it, you scuttle across to your bedroom door from the landing, hoping he ignores the kaleidoscope of peeling stickers you’ve tacked above the handle. You shove it open, quickly kicking aside a pair of twisted up panties you had left on your red shag rug.

In a blink he’s behind you, standing in the doorframe, a terrifyingly tall and bulky silhouette against the dim glow emerging from downstairs – made uniquely funny by the rabbit ears sticking up from his head.

You step over the piles of discarded outfit options and switch on the lamp by your bed; the yellow bulb glows coral pink from behind the vintage fabric lampshade. Looking back at him, he’s already perusing your room like it’s a museum.

He picks up and analyses the assortment of trinkets on your shelves and chest-of-drawers (old jewellery, empty lighters, some strange ceramic babies you once picked up at a flea market), and admires the mosaic of posters on your wall (Gorillaz, Feist, The Killers, MGMT, Arcade Fire, The Strokes, Peter Bjorn and John – careful cherry-picks of your favourite bands, in the hopes you’d one day impress some hot guy with taste as good as yours).

“Bit of an artiste, are ye?” He queries, nodding at the easel against your wall – housing a half-finished and long-hated painting of yours, an attempt at a masterwork copy of Monet; sitting amongst a bombsite of palettes, brushes in dirty cups, and curled-up tubes of oil paint.

“Guess so,” you answer. “It’s my degree.”

He leans into your hideous painting, taking a drag but careful not to stain the canvas with the smoke. “Still studying, then?”

“Yeah, uh, my Master’s.”

He nods. “If you’re already this good, what does a Master’s in painting get ye?”

You snort. “Good fuckin’ question.”

Feeling suddenly shy, you venture to busy yourself, electing to pull the curtains shut over your window.

You hear him chuckle while you aren’t looking. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

You spin on the ball of your foot, and freeze instantly – stare caught on your grape-coloured vibrator, held comfortably in the palm of his hand, he tosses it and catches it again. You had left it on your bed, a rookie mistake. You fucking idiot!

Your hand shoots to cover your mouth, fire burns white-hot behind your cheeks; but you can only giggle, humiliated. “Put that down,” you plead into your palm.

Ignoring you, he inspects it, quickly finding the button to turn it on; its buzzing rings out obnoxiously loud into the cripplingly awkward silence, forcing you to grimace. He doesn’t seem to find it awkward at all, holding the end of the purple rod into his other hand, curling his lips in disapproval as he evidently evaluates the vibration against his skin.

“Never understood why you girls like these things,” he remarks insouciantly.

“Please put it down,” you cry, staring at the ceiling as if it might hide you from the embarrassment.

He only sniggers. “Cannae compare to the real thing.”

You cover your eyes. “It fills the void,” you quietly admit.

He finally switches it off, but continues to fiddle with it as he ambles towards you. “Mustn’t do a very good job o’ that.”

Uncovering your face, finally, you jolt when you see how close he is to you – only a foot between you, you can feel the heat of him from where you stand. You do your utter best to prevent your eyes from jumping to the vibrator in his grip, but he still toys with it, as if just to taunt you.

“What makes you say that?”

He gazes down at you, lips stretched into a smug grin. “Why’d you invite me in, eh?”

You swallow, stifling a giggle – you look around capriciously, anywhere but his drilling stare. “Just wanted to help you out.”

“Help me out?” He interrogates you, inching forward, forcing you to step onto your back foot.

You’re suddenly short of breath. “I didn’t want you to get stabbed.”

He gleams that cheshire smile, suddenly his canines seem sharper. “You’re a bad liar, wee bunny.”

“Am I?” You utter, shambling back further has he continues to encroach.

“Took me to yer bedroom straight away… didn’t even offer me a drink…” he teases, “I’m thinkin’ ye want me to help you out.”

You feel a sudden bump as your back hits the door of your cupboard, shrinking as he leans over you, closing the gap. Your eyes catch on his lips as he again places his cigarette in between them, its smoke drifting softly over your face, your stare lingers.

“Dunno where you got that idea,” you breathe, entranced by the cloud that’s left in his mouth once he tugs the roll out again.

Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid.

Ignoring any remaining shred of common sense, you step up on your tiptoes to slam your lips against his, sucking down the smoke lingering behind his teeth deep into your chest. He matches you with no hint of hesitation, leaning into you with the full weight of his body, you hear him finally drop the vibrator as it lands on the carpet with a dull thud.

Fuck, his tongue tastes good – like tobacco and peppermint chewing gum, soft and hungry as it writhes against yours. He does what he can with his one free hand, starting tastefully with a cup of your cheek, then a hold of the side of your neck, down to your shoulder – before plunging into a greedy handful of your breast, kneading it like dough.

His wet and eager lips drag along from yours, taking soft bites out of your cheek, hot tongue licking from your jaw to your neck, where he burrows his teeth. You let out a breathy whimper, fervid fingers clutch and claw at his chest through his t-shirt, using the fabric to pull him closer. His busy hand ventures along your waist, taking a palmful of your hip and tugging it only slightly towards him.

Impatient, ravenous, your fingers slither down his firm stomach to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling to get his button undone; you feel him smile against your skin, a breathy chuckle, before his other hand moves to stop you with a hold of your wrist.

He releases your neck from his maw, standing upright with a fucking cocky and self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. You let go of his button and return your hands to your sides, worried you’d been too eager, put him off with your fervour.

“Glad to know it’s this easy to get ye hot n’ bothered,” he drawls, taking another drag of what is now nearly just the butt.

“No idea what you mean,” you pant, utterly breathless, you sweep some stray hair from your forehead with your palm. “I’m not hot and bothered.”

“Aren’t you?” He goads, and the hand that clutches your hip sneaks towards your centre, prompting you to hold your breath; he snakes it over your mound, gliding it brazenly between your closed legs.

His shrewd eyes watch you, arrogantly, as he palms your aching pussy through the thin fabric of your bodysuit – under which you wore no panties, you wonder if he can feel how damp it is. He pushes a coaxing pressure against your covered clit with the heel of his palm, forcing you to whine in desperation; your insatiable hands return to his chest, balling the fabric of his t-shirt into your fists – and he only chortles.

“I could fry an egg on that,” he says.

And suddenly you snort, breaking into cackling laughter as you shove him away with both hands. “God, you’re disgusting!”

He laughs with you, proud of himself, he finally takes off the fucking bunny ears.

“I could hang a towel on that,” you jab, eyes suddenly caught on the frightening tent pitched in his roomy trousers. That can’t be real.

“You could hang a lot on it,” he agrees rakishly, chuckling, palming the length under his pants to tuck it away.

You try to contain your giggles as you push yourself upright, attempting to un-fluster yourself by smoothing your hair and wiping the dampness of his saliva from your neck. You feel the slippery wetness of your cunt with a step. “You’re evil,” you spit, still throbbing from his attention.

“Cannae fuck you yet,” he declares bluntly, turning to dump the end of his cigarette into your paintbrush cup full of brown water.

“Why not?” You pout, whingeing like a spoilt brat.

He returns with a debonair grin. “Gotta give you a reason to see me again.”

#johnny mactavish absolutely fucks with a brow ring #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x female reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #indie sleaze #johnny soap mactavish smut #soap x you

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

Take It Out On Me Part 7 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I am having a bad day and what I wouldn't get to have these two take care of me right now.

Warning: Dom Steddie/ Plus Size Sub reader and all that that implies! (I regret nothing!) , Jealous Steddie as well, Degrading, slapping, first time use of titles (we'll be seeing more of that from here on in), Billy being a dick to Steve. I think that's all. Smut, a dash of fluff, with a sprinkle of angst.

Word Count: 4055

This past summer was more than perfect. Spending two months in New York was the break you desperately needed from Hawkins and all the stress that came with it. You did miss Eddie and Steve but it was nice to be away from them for a while to clear your mind. You called them a couple of times but it was hard to be on the phone for long in house full of people.

When you got back home, you were ready to start your senior year. You had bought a whole new wardrobe, wanting to show people like Tommy and Carol you weren’t the same meek, scared girl anymore.

“Holy shit. Is that my sexy best friend?”, Masie grinned as she picked you up from your house on the first day. “You look so good.”

“Thank you.” You flashed her your silky, red tank top under Eddie’s leather jacket. The blue jean shorts showed off your legs and the cute black, velvet boots made you feel extremely powerful.

“I missed you so much.” You smile as she leans over to give you hug.

The school was full of electricity with student’s hugging each other and comparing class schedules. You couldn’t help but giggle when some of the boys did a double take as you walked by.

“Hm. I guess you’re going to be popular this year.” She smiles as she links her arm into yours. “Eddie Munson definitely has some competition.”

“Oh my god, Maze. Let it go!”, you sigh, rolling your eyes as you point to a room across from you both. “This is my first class.”

“Alright. I’ll see you at lunch later, okay?”

“Ah, Miss Y/N. I saw you were in my class this year. Hopefully you’ll behave, yeah?” Mr. C smiled with you nodded. “Good. I gave Steve the same warning. Now I’m just waiting for—”

Eddie skids into the classroom with his hands high into the air. “Mr. C! My favorite teacher!”

“Mhmm. Mr. Munson, please, for my old heart can you keep it together for me this year?”

“No promises.” Red paints your face as the metalhead’s eyes finally land on you, drinking you in. “But who knows. Obviously, people can surprise you. Hey sweetheart.”

“Ay yi yi. Ok, none of that. Both of you take a seat.”

As you turn, your eyes meet Steve’s as he lets out a shaky breath and flashes you a tender smile. Unfortunately, there weren’t three seats together so you were a bit farther from them than you would have preferred but at least you had one class together.

You hadn’t realized how much you actually missed them until they were in front of you again. Eddie still looked the same with his torn up blue jeans and heavy metal shirt blanketed under the smell of cigarette smoke. Steve had grown his hair out a bit more and seemed like he got some sun this summer. Currently, they were radiating that softness that you enjoyed when they were taking care of you.

That was short lived however when a new face entered the classroom.

You’d be lying if you didn’t say you thought the boy that came in was incredibly attractive. His blue eyes penetrated your own as he sauntered over and stopped at the seat in front of yours.

“Hey, man. Do you mind finding another desk?”, he asked the boy sitting in the desk. When he didn’t immediately stand, his beautiful eyes clouded over with intensity. “Move. Now.”

The kid promptly collected his things and quickly shuffled away as the man grinned, turning to you as he extended his hand. “I’m Billy Hargrove. What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“I’m, uh, I’m Y/N.”

Billy smirked as you stuttered out your answer. There was something intimating about the man in front of you that scared you slightly but not in the same way Eddie and Steve had. The boys originally frightened you because of the way they made you feel. Billy, on the other hand, had this air about him that practically screamed he liked things his way whether you liked it or not. You imagined he knew how to satisfy a woman but with that extra sense of arrogance he wasn’t going to stay with one for long.

As you scanned the room again, you found both Eddie and Steve glaring at him with immense anger. Shit. This may be a long year.

#########

The rest of the day went by much too slowly for your liking. You found out you did have one more class each with the guys and you three still shared a lunch period. As the day went on though they started to feel more distant as they huffed at the people around you who gawked as you walked by.

After your basketball practice as you and the team started to head in to get showered and leave for the day, you passed the guys team having their own practice.

As you entered the gym, you noticed Eddie leaning against the risers with his arms folded as he watched the display in front of him. Billy was in front of Steve bouncing the basketball mockingly in front of him as he cockily grinned in his direction.

“What’s going on?”

Eddie glanced at you before turning back to the court.

“Seems your new boyfriend is trying to take Steve’s place on the team.”

“Really? My boyfriend.”, you sighed as you rolled your eyes.

“Roll your eyes like that again, Y/N. I dare you.” His eyes never leave the game as he speaks. “Seems this summer made you believe things are different. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but they aren’t. We still own you.”

“What makes you angrier, Eddie? The fact he sat in front of me or the fact that he showed more control by moving someone to sit with me? Makes you wonder else he’d do to be near me.”

As if on cue, Billy shoulder checks Steve knocking him to the ground as he runs around him to make a basket. The teams claps as he grins before he notices you watching, giving a subtle wink before focusing on the game again.

“Hm. I can’t wait to tell Steve you said that. I’m very curious to see what he thinks.”

With that you turn and head for the locker room as nerves fill your stomach. You’re going to regret saying that but you weren’t sure how or where it would come from.

############

They practically ignored you for the rest of the week which made you both furious and heartbroken. You spent all summer missing them even falling asleep in Steve’s sweatshirt or Eddie’s jacket just to have them close in some way. Why weren’t they as desperate to have you as you were to have them?

“Hey, pretty girl.” You head swiveled around to meet Billy’s cocky smile as he threw his shirt on the risers behind you while you were sitting in the gym during your free period. “Come to watch me play?” Steve passed you both, his eyes full of fire as he walked by. “Oh, I see. You have crush on ‘King’ Steve Harrington. Trust me, baby girl. He’s not worth your time.”

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me things like that.”

“Ooo… do I have to earn it? I’m really good at that game.”

He chuckles as he runs out onto the court and the team begins practice. Billy is just as ruthless as he was the last time you watched them practice, him taunting Steve any chance he could but like the fighter he was Steve was always right back in front of him trying to take the ball.

“Do you know she has a crush on you? Is that way you’re trying so hard, Harrington?” Billy shoves around him, knocking him down as he makes a basket. You get to your feet and run to help him up, but the other boy beats you reaching out his hand for him to take. “Oh, I get it. You like her to. This is going to be fun for me.” He chuckles as he pushes Steve back down to the floor.

Your hand reaches for his and he aggressively smacks it out of the way, jumping to his feet and exiting the double doors to the outside the gym. Running after him, you find him pacing as he fumes.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

When you extend your hand again, his palms grip either side of your face as he backs you against the brick wall, crashing his lips to yours. You mewled at the taste of him as you pulled his hips to yours.

“You think he shows more control than we do? That he’d do anything to be with you?”

“Steve—”

He cut you off with his mouth on yours as he unbuttoned your jeans and slid his hand through the waistband of your panties. You moaned, gripping the back of his neck as his fingers breached your entrance.

“You really did forget a lot while you were away. This pussy and your body belong to us. Only we can make you feel this good.” All you can do is nod as he steadily builds you up. “You think because you come home with this new look and attitude that you can do better than us?”

“No…no, Steve. I—mmm—I only want you two. I missed you both so much.” He curled his fingers inside of you practically lifting you on to your toes as you hand flew down to grab his wrist. “Steve, please.”

Your other hand tugged on his sweaty shirt as your head fell to his chest, your moans muffled as you came. You continued to pant as he removed his hand and buttoned your jeans back around your waist. “Don’t let him get under your skin.” Your tone was soft as you pressed your body to his.

Steve sighed heavily before you felt his arms finally wrap around you. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“I don’t either. He calls me names you guys call me and it just feels weird.”

“Weird how?” His tone shifts back into authoritative as he pulls your head back to look at your face. “Does he make you uncomfortable? We can talk to him. I can knock him on his ass.”

“No, baby, no. Don’t worry about him. Just ignore him. I, um, I hope it’s ok but I got you guys something while I was gone. Can I come over after school and give them to you?”

“Yeah, of course.” You grin as he kisses your forehead before running back into the gym.

############

“Where are your parents?”

“Uh, my dad is in Europe…I think…and my mom went with him.”, Steve shrugs as Eddie lights a cigarette and leans back against one of the lawn chairs by the pool.

“I hear you bought us things.”

Smiling, you reach into your bag and hand them each a box. Steve beams as he holds up a pair of sunglasses and places them over his eyes.

“They’re like the ones Tom Cruise wears in that movie you like.”

“Risky Business. Yeah! How do I look? Do I look just like him?”

“Better.”, you giggle as you turn to Eddie, pausing when you notice his vacant expression as he stares at the gorgeous, gemstone Dungeons and Dragons dice in his hand. “Did I get the right kind? I don’t know much about D&D but the guy in the store said these were perfect for a… Dungeon Master? I think that’s what you said you were, right?”

“I did. Um, yeah, no, princess these are beautiful. No one’s ever got me a thoughtful gift like this before.” His arms wrap around you as he kisses your temple before pulling you down with him against the chair making you laugh. “Thank you.”

There’s a comfortable silence that follows as Eddie continues smoking with you laying on his chest between his legs, his hand occasionally rubbing your arm while Steve stares off into the distance still wearing the sunglasses.

Was this what they meant when they said they wanted to just be? You didn’t mind it, feeling like you could stay this way forever. The only problem was Steve was so far away…

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?”

“Huh?”

“You just sighed. What’s running through your mind?”, Eddie asked with that syrupy sweet tone you dreamed about while you were away.

“I’m just thinking about how far Steve is right now.”

“Hm. Kinda greedy today, huh? I heard Steve made you cum outside the gym, naughty girl.”

“But I haven’t seen you both in over two months. I missed you. D-Did you miss me?”

“Uh oh, Eds. She’s reverting back to that shy little girl again. It must be you, dude.”

“I’m not a little girl!”

“Hm. Sound like a little girl to me.”

You know what you’re doing and so do they, you three waiting for someone to make the next move. You decide it will be you, hoping they respond the way you want them to; NEED them to.

“Well, fine then. If I’m such a little girl and you didn’t miss me, I guess I’ll go home.” Pushing Eddie’s arm out of the way you march back into Steve’s house and head for the front door. As you open it, a ringed hand cuts you off, and slams it shut.

“Where do you think you’re going, little girl?” He starts to slowly walk you backwards towards the living room. “You think you can talk to us like that and then just leave? I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Seems like she still needs a reminder of who’s in charge.”, Steve grins as he closes the back door and leans against it.

“Is that what you need, little girl?”, Eddie taunts.

“I’m NOT a little girl.”, you growl.

He towers over you as his eyes stare you down. “Yes, you are. You’re a bratty…slutty…bad…little girl.” Between each word he gave you a small but forceful shove until you stumbled onto the couch. He sat beside you, his fingers pinching your cheeks as he turned your head to look at him. “Say it.”

When you shake your head, Eddie loosens his grip, running his thumb along your bottom lip. “Steve?” The other boy descends to the floor between your legs, unbuttoning your jeans, and tugs them off your body.

Abruptly, a palm connects with your face eliciting a squeak from you. Your eyes meet the metalheads as he searches within them, gauging your reaction. When you don’t respond or protest, his fingers grip your cheeks again.

“Do you remember what we talked about before you left? About us having titles and taking care of you?”

“And…in return I show you the…respect you deserve?”, you pant; completely turned on by his words and the slap he delivered you.

“Yeah, sweetheart, that’s right.” He pauses when your breathing stutters as you feel Steve pull down your panties and toss them aside. “Is that something you want to try…with us? For example, I just hit you. Did…f-fuck… did you like it? Say yes or no and then follow it with Sir or Master.”

You moaned, feeling Steve’s breath hit your core as your legs opened wider for him. “Yes, S-sir. I liked you slapping me.” His tongue licked a stripe between your folds and you practically melted into the couch.

“See? You’re a natural.” Eddie’s lips delicately traced your jawline down to your neck. That combined with Steve wrapping his mouth around your clit was having you seeing stars.

“Wh-what should I—mmm—what should I call, Steve?”

“What feels right? I have a feeling when it comes to Stevie, there’s been something in the forefront of your mind. Just say it and see if he likes it.”

You lick your lips as your fingers tangle in his soft hair, pressing him further into your cunt. “Daddy…”

They both groan as Steve’s tongue flicks faster against your nub. Eddie unbuttons his jeans and lifts his hips to push them and his boxers down his legs. His lips roughly find yours for a moment before clinging to your face again.

“Say it. Say you’re a fucking little girl.” Your eyes start to flutter closed and he pulls his hand back to smack you again. “Harrington! Don’t let her cum until she says it.”

“I’m…I’m a…” You struggle to find the words as you hurtle quickly towards the edge.

“If you cum before you say it, I’m going to use my belt to punish you again and I won’t be as nice as he was!”

“Fuck! I’m a little girl! Please…please!” Your thighs close around his head as you cum, lifting your hips off the couch. Steve’s fingers force your legs open as he continues licking you clean.

When he sits up on his knees, you bring your lips to his, tasting yourself on his breath. You don’t see it but both men glance at each other as Eddie nods his approval. Steve lifts off his shirt as you reach down to unbuckle his belt and tug at his jeans.

As he leans back to take them off, the metalhead’s fingers turn you to face him. “Now, be honest, we…we have to ask. Were you with anyone in New York?” His tone is gentle, not carrying any accusation within his words.

“We just need to know if we need to use condoms.”, Steve follows as he runs his palms along your thighs.

“No, I swear I wasn’t. Were…were you…with anyone?” Your eyes squeeze shut and a thankful sigh escapes your lips when they both shake their heads.

Eddie lifts off your shirt and Steve leaned forward to passionately kiss your lips. Your eyes rolled back as he reached between you both to guide his cock into your entrance as his arms wrapped around your back. He clung to your body as thrust into you at a steady pace, his mouth and tongue attaching to your nipple making you whimper.

“Say it again, baby girl. Mmm…call me that name again.”

“Daddy.”

“Fuck me…” His hips rolled into yours as you lifted your own off the couch to meet his pushing him deeper into you. Your head lulls to side to search for Eddie but he was still in the same place stroking his cock as he watched you.

“Fuck, princess. I can’t wait to have you after him. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be feeling me for weeks.”

“God damn it.”, Steve grunted as your pussy clenched at Eddie’s promise. His head fell beside yours as he pumped into you faster. “Beg me, honey. Beg Daddy to make you cum.”

Your lips pressed against the shell of his ear as your fingers pulled at his hair. “Please, Daddy. Please make me cum. Mmm… fuck…I missed you so much. You feel so good inside me.”

His mouth sloppily kissed your own, swallowing your moans as you came. “That’s it. Fuck…such a good girl…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he pushed up on his hands and slammed his hip into you as released his seed deep inside of your cunt.

As soon as the other boy pulled out, Eddie was on you, wrapping his arm around your stomach as he tugged you back against the couch until you were laying on your side with him behind you. His fingers roughly gripped your thigh, holding your leg in the air as he slid his throbbing cock into your dripping hole.

True to his word, he thrust into aggressively, bordering the line between pleasure and pain. His blown-out eyes met yours when your hand reached out to hold the one the that was dangling off the couch behind your head.

“Steve’s right. Mmm…such a good…beautiful girl.” His lips kissed yours before your whimper vibrated against them as his fingers circled your clit. “Look at me, Y/N. Don’t…take your eyes off me.” Eddie’s mouth opened in a silent O as he watched you struggle to keep them open. “Does that feel good, baby?”

His fingers left your bundle of nerves as they flew to your face so he could pinch your cheeks. “I asked you a fucking question. You answer me, little girl. Does my cock feel good?”

“Yes—mmm—yes, Sir. Your cock…feels so fucking good.”

“Don’t you dare take those eyes off of me, ok?” He places his hand back between your legs as you moan. Eddie’s hips start to faulter as he watches you come undone, screaming his name as tumble over the edge. As your pussy clings to him, he drops your leg as he clings to hips, grunting as he cums inside you.

You both pant as you try to catch your breath. A hand pets at your hair and you turn your head to see Steve’s soft eyes glancing over your face.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” When you respond your voice comes out hoarse giving him pause.

“I’m going to grab a bottle of water.”

After you watch him leave, you turn back to see Eddie’s eyes are closed. Delicately treading the waters again, you lift your arm, placing it under his head and to your pleasant surprise he scoots closer to you, pulling your body to his.

“Alright, honey. Drink some of this.” Steve places his hand behind you as he guides the bottle of liquid to your lips. “Atta girl. Eddie, do you want some?”

The metalhead declines with a cute nu uh sound that makes you giggle as you feel him smile against your skin.

“Come on, Munson. We still have to clean her so she can go home.” Your eyes swivel around to find Steve as he tilts his head. “Don’t you? Your parents expect you home at a certain time.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to go home yet.”

“We don’t want you to go either, baby, but we don’t want you to get in trouble.” You sigh as Eddie releases you so you can both sit up. “Do you want to use my shower or…”

“I don’t think I can make it up the stairs.”

“I can carry you—”

“No…no, Steve. I’m ok.” You lean against Eddie’s shoulder as Steve heads back towards the kitchen to find a washcloth. “Eddie? Did I do good?”

He chuckles through his nose as he reaches down to hold your hand. “Princess, you were more than good. Did you…like it?”

You nod as the other boy reappears and sits beside you, gently opening your legs as he cleans between them. Steve stops when you hiss and bite you bottom lip.

“Sore.”

“Y/N, um, we’ve been thinking a lot and talking over the summer…” Your eyes shoot open as you look at him, terrified of what he’s about to say next. “We still don’t know how to define this but we do want you to be comfortable.”

“You said you liked being used and degraded but we’ve never talked about anything that may be a step too far.”

“Well…what would be a step too far for you?” They both laugh at your question making you pout.

“We asked you first, honey.”

“I-I don’t know how to answer that. I just know that I didn’t like what I had before with guys. So far, I’ve enjoyed everything. I’m open to trying anything with you two. I’m yours.”

“Fuck, you’re going to make me hard again.”, Steve sighs as he starts helping you get dressed.

“Um, I have a question. Do I call you by your titles now? All the time?”

Eddie finishes sliding on his jeans before extending his hand to help you off the couch. “Do you want that?”

“I asked you first.”, you parrot back as you grin.

“How about yes when it’s just the three of us?”

“I’m ok with that, Sir.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he mewls before leaning down to kiss your lips.

“Still so fascinating.” Steve kisses you as well, taking your hand as he walks you both outside to your vehicles. “Can you call us when you get home?”

“Of course, Daddy.”

He smirks as he opens your car door for you.

“Glad your back home, honey. We missed you to.”

#############

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