#plus-size!reader

[rubynationwins]

Hard To Handle

Soft!Dark!Sebastian Stan x PlusSize!Handler!Reader (Fem!Reader) (RPF)

My Masterlist

Summary: You risk your safety trying to find Sebastian when he runs off, but you don’t understand why he’s so upset. As his handler, it’s your job to keep him in line. Plus, why would any man try something on a girl like you? He decides to show you just what men are capable of.

Warnings: 18+, minors plz go away, dark fic(or my attempt at one), dub/non-con, soft!dark!Sebastian, smut, enemies to lovers, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, biting/marking, manhandling, choking, edging, fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, angst, light dom/sub, swearing, fat shaming/name calling(not by seb), mentions of body image issues // If there are warnings I missed plz lmk so I can include them. In general, if this type of content is triggering for u DNI. Read at ur own risk

Word Count: 5,100

A/N- This is my first dark fic, or at least kinda dark? Idk but I hope you enjoy it! Seb is obviously OOC (since this is a dark fic) he’s also a bit of a brat😉 I tried my best w/ the Romanian but I don’t speak it so take it at face value plz. Like, comment, reblog, I always appreciate feedback so plz let me know what u think!

This story is also on my AO3 account, Ruby_Nation, but should not be posted anywhere else without my express permission.

I want to shoutout the writers who lured me to the dark side with their incredible fics @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @kinanabinks @angryschnauzer @lanadelreyscokewhor3​

Thanks for reading!

-Ruby

Famous actor Sebastian Stan was a lot of things: charming, intelligent, insanely talented, a hilarious goofball, and, of course, drop-dead gorgeous. There was something about his chiseled jaw and hooded gaze that made it impossible to look away from the celebrity. What Sebastian Stan was not, however, was good at following rules. Your rules, to be exact. As his handler, you had specific stipulations set out for him to follow. But did famous actor Sebastian Stan listen to said rules? No, of course not. This made your job as his glorified babysitter immensely more challenging. Since, every time he disregarded your directives, you were the one who dealt with the repercussions. He knew this, and yet on the very first stop of his press tour, he decided to run off and galavant around an unfamiliar city unsupervised. 

5 hours earlier

When you arrived at the hotel with Sebastian, it was 7 pm. Your jet-lagged self was still on LA time, though, so it felt more like 9 pm to you. At least your room was nice, even if it was connected to Sebastian’s by a single door. You quickly changed out of your travel outfit, unpacked your toiletry bag-since hotel shampoo was a cruel joke-and went to the bathroom. After that, you walked over to the door that lead to Sebastian’s room and knocked. No answer. You knocked again, “Sebastian! We need to go over tomorrow’s itinerary.”  Still nothing. Luckily, the door was unlocked. A subsequent sweep of his quarters revealed that they were empty. 

Shit. 

That slippery motherfucker had once again escaped under your watchful eye. Okay, maybe not so watchful since you had been on the other side of a wall when he slipped away. But he was only out of eyeshot for about twenty minutes and he managed to not only fly the coop but also unpack all of his luggage. He had so many suitcases! How in the world did he unpack them all so fast? Not that it mattered, because when you found him you were going to handcuff him to one of those god-damn oversized suitcases. See how he liked lugging around an inconvenient charge for a change. 

Present

Now you were wandering around the nightlife district looking for the escaped actor. You stopped outside a bar that could only be described with the word “dive” in front of it. This had to be it since you had scoured every other location in the area that offered booze and/or entertainment. You had waded through drunken crowds in cramped bars, had enjoyed some nice piano music at a more upscale establishment, you had even witnessed a very flexible dancer shimmy up a pole and then drop back down it hanging on with only one leg. Still, Sebastian was nowhere to be found.

At one of the places, you thought you’d found him sitting on a stool at a bar with his back turned to you. You tapped his shoulder and instead found a drunken man in his 50s. The stench of bottom-shelf whiskey wafted off of him. He teetered in his seat on the verge of toppling over. He’d leaned towards you, either because he thought your touch had been a sign of womanly desire or gravity had finally caught up to his unbalanced state. Either way, you leaped back, smacking into a waitress carrying a tray of beer. The tray went flying. The beer went on you. 

So, you were in a particularly foul mood as you walked into the last bar on your quest to find the most annoying actor on the planet. You were soaked in cheap booze and out forty bucks you had used to comp the spilt drinks. It took one sweep of the bar’s interior to spot the man you had been trying to find for the past five hours. 

He was standing under dim lights in the back, surrounded by a boisterous group of men. The bastard was playing pool. By the carefree look on Sebastian’s face and the way he was joking around with his new buddies, his evening had been a lot less shitty than yours. You centered yourself, trying your best to reign in the anger thrumming through your entire being, and strode towards the man who made your job, no, your life, a constant stress-inducing nightmare. 

Sebastian stood at the far end of the pool table, lining up his cue stick to sink the last solid ball on the pool table. His relaxed demeanor was all confidence, but the slight furrow of his brow gave away how deeply he was focusing. You shoved your way through the loud men gathered around the table. When you finally reached Sebastian, you stopped at his side, glaring at him with murderous intent. You expected him to notice the waves of thinly veiled rage radiating from your presence right away. But instead of turning around to beg for forgiveness, he just kept staring at the ball in front of him, oblivious to your fuming state. At this point, you had had enough of this bullshit and just wanted to get back to the god-damn hotel.

“Hey, asshole!” You shouted so that your voice was heard over the roaring group of men. Unfortunately, since you were right next to his ear, you startled him. Sebastian jumped. The hand that was gripping his cue stick flew forward, sending the cue ball directly into a side pocket. Members of Sebastian’s team went into an uproar, furious about the scratch.

Sebastian whipped around, surprise and anger etched into his features, “Y/N?! What the hell? What are you doing here?” 

You were about to retort when a large hand grasped your shoulder and spun you around to face a man who looked like a frat bro mixed with a pickup truck. He fumed, “You just fucking cost us the game! I’m out two hundred bucks now, you fat bitch!” 

Normally, you were able to keep your cool whenever insults were thrown at you. Years of similar-looking asshats calling you all types of degrading names had given you pretty thick skin. However, there was something about this particular meathead that broke through it. The awful night you were having probably had something to do with it too. You stood on your tip-toes, getting up in his face, “What did you just call me? If I were you, I’d turn the fuck around, prick.” 

He lowered his head, closing the distance between the two of you even more. His eyes were bloodshot and he reeked of cigarettes and dollar store cologne, “And why’s that, little piggy?”

You saw red. You swung your fist back, about to go for a gut punch when a large body pushed between you and the truck man. Sebastian looked like he wanted to hit the other guy too, but instead, he wrapped a hand around your arm and held you at a distance.

In a flash, Sebastian’s cool demeanor returned, “I’m sorry about my… sister, Tod, she’s just in a bad mood right now, ya ‘know?” He gave the man a tight smile as if letting him in on a little joke.

You stepped forward to protest, “I am not his sis–” His grip on your upper arm squeezed tighter. “Ow!” you squeaked, but he just kept looking forward, not even glancing back at you.

Tod, formerly known as Pissface, seemed to accept Sebastian’s explanation. Apparently, though, he still felt the need to give his two cents on why you were in such a “bad mood” as Sebastian had put it, “Yeah. She’s probably on the rag, man.” 

You rolled your eyes, of course. Of course, a grade-A troll like him would say that. Of fucking course.

Pissface–Tod–continued to run his mouth, “I thought she was some stalker man, you guys don’t even look related.” 

Sebastian laughed humorlessly, “She takes after our mom.”

“Huh. Either way, you should put a muzzle on that thing,” Tod nodded towards you. You flipped him the bird and he sneered back at you. “Ugly fat chicks like you always have the bitchiest personalities,” he turned his head back to Sebastian, “Good luck getting any tonight if that’s your wingman.” With those departing words, the deadshit man walked off. Sebastian made no move to rebuke the insult. Instead, he pulled you towards the exit, only pausing to shove a wad of cash at a waitress to cover whatever expenses he’d racked up.

Sebastian burst through the exit door, your arm still clutched in his vice-like grip. He dragged you down the street before finally letting you go. 

You rubbed the spot on your arm he had held and swiveled to glare at the bar that was now almost out of sight. “God, what a douchebag. I’m glad he lost all that money,” you turned your gaze back to where Sebastian stood, illuminated by a lamppost, “why were you even on a team with a dick like him? I’m sure his friends weren’t any better. What’s wrong with y-” 

“Y/N, Shut up!” Sebastian yelled, his usually relaxed tone gone. You took a step back in surprise. His eyes stared daggers at you and there was a brooding aura around him all of a sudden. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his body was stiff as if holding back rage. For the first time since you had started working for him, Sebastian Stan was legitimately pissed off. He tended to be the one who rolled with the punches, who wasn’t bothered by anything. But now, he looked furious. And for whatever reason, his newfound anger was targeted at you.

You were immediately on the defensive, “What’s your problem? Why are you angry with me? Pissface back there was the one being an ass,” you took a few steps closer to him to prove that you weren’t intimidated by his menacing presence, “And I’m the one who has the right to be angry at you!”

He narrowed his eyes and put his hands on his hips, leaning forward, as if talking to a petulant child, “And why is that?”

You let out a frustrated noise. “What do you mean, ‘why’? You snuck off again! Sebastian, you are so selfish, you know that!? I’ve been searching all over, by myself, trying to find you for the past–” you checked the time-“five and a half hours!” 

Your words made Sebastian pause, “You’ve been what?” he didn’t let you answer, “Why the hell have you been out here alone at night? And trying to start a fight with some wannabe pool hustler? You’re lucky I saved you from getting your ass handed to you back there.”

“I didn’t ask you to! I can handle myself just fine. I’m not some fragile doll, look at me,” you gestured to yourself, “I’m a big girl, I can fight my own battles.”

“You’re telling me you could have taken on that prick back there? What about all of his buddies, huh? You don’t think before you act, Y/N.” He said your name like an irritated parent reprimanding their child. “Why’re you so fuckin’ reckless!?” Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends, “Y/N, you’re my handler, not my bodyguard. And even if you were, I still wouldn’t want you wandering around a strange new city at night by yourself.”

“Sebastian, that’s exactly what you did,” you deadpan.

“That’s obviously different, Y/N,” he said flippantly, brushing aside your very valid point, “I can’t believe I have to explain this to you. You’re a woman, that makes you vulnerable. The world is full of dangerous people, Y/N. Especially men, who would do god knows what to you if given the opportunity. That’s true in any situation, but when you do this?!” He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated, “You’re just asking for some random bastard to take advantage of you.”

He was missing the point, “Like I said before; you don’t have any reason to be so worked up. If I was smaller I’d understand your concern, but since I look the way I do, I don’t have to worry about being ‘taken advantage of’ as you put so lightly.”

“What does your size have to do with anything, Y/N?” 

You shook your head, he just didn’t get it. “My whole life I’ve been pretty much ignored by the entirety of the male species, and when they do notice me it’s to reaffirm how repulsive they find me. All because of my size,” your words tasted like bile, painful but true, “That fact doesn’t change when I’m out on my own or when it’s after sundown.” Why was he making you explain this? How could he not see what was so obvious to everyone else?

Sebastian’s voice was somber now, “That kind of thinking is going to get you hurt, Y/N. Or worse, killed.” 

Deep down you knew some of what Sebastian said was true but there was no way you were bowing down to his claims, “How would you even know? You have no idea what it’s like to be me. You never will.” His blue eyes were filled with concern and something else. Something you despised: pity. 

Finished with the conversation, you decided to stop sugarcoating your words, “Sebastian, get it through your thick skull, no man is going to violate me! I’m too big, too fat, too disgusting! I’m just not worth it!" You were out of breath with your words, and your eyes brimmed with spite-filled tears. Sebastian stared at you, wide-eyed and lips parted in disbelief at your outburst. You quickly turned away from him, trying to discreetly rub the tears from your eyes.

“We are done talking about this. As your handler, I am the one responsible for keeping you out of harm's way and fixing any screwups you cause. I will not apologize for doing my job by coming down here to find you. I am the one who lays down the law, not you.” You took out your phone. “Now, I’m calling us a ride and we’re going back to the hotel. That’s an order.” 

Quick steps sounded behind you and when you turned back around Sebastian was right in front of you, “What are you do–”

He snatched your phone away.

“Hey–”

Sebastian grabbed your now phoneless hand and tugged you towards a nearby ally. He kept hold of your wrist as you stumbled after him, confused. What was happening? Had he seen some paparazzi and was trying to hide? If so, he didn’t have to be so rough.

Once you were off the sidewalk and out of sight he pulled up short. You ran into him, unprepared for his sudden halt. Right as you were trying to pull free, he dropped your wrist. You stumbled forward and caught yourself on the brick wall in front of you.

Before you could right yourself, Sebastian was there, pressing his muscled body flush against your backside. What was happening? Startled, you tried to push yourself off the wall to get away from him. His hands shot forward and yanked your flailing fists behind your back. His right hand locked them in place with its strong grip. His left arm wrapped around your soft middle, fingers skimming your waist. It all happened so fast. You froze-too overwhelmed by Sebastian caging you against himself. His heated presence overpowered your senses. You couldn’t utter a single sound.

Sebastian was now devoid of the anger that had been coursing through his veins just a moment ago. His face nuzzled into your neck and shivers shot down your spine at the feel of his rough stubble scraping your skin. He breathed you in and let out a guttural sound. “You smell like beer,” he chuckled. The low rumble of his dark laughter slid over you like a velvety blanket. It caressed every nook and cranny of your body. He flicked his tongue against the base of your neck, sending tingles along your arms, “Taste like it too.”

“Seb-”

You tried to protest but his tongue returned to your skin and you were once again rendered speechless. He licked a languid stripe from the base of your neck up to the notch of your jaw, nipping at the sensitive flesh. You yelped. His rough lips curved into a devious smile as he continued his assault on your exposed throat. Sebastian must have felt your heartbeat increase under his touch because he nipped at your pulse point. He dug his teeth in deeper this time, almost breaking skin. Your cry of pain morphed into a groan of pleasure when he sucked at the spot and then smoothed his tongue over it. 

While his mouth continued to explore your throat, his left hand began its own expedition. It trailed up your stomach and landed on your right breast. When he squeezed and felt your hard nipple straining against the confines of your clothes, he let out a low growl. You gasped when he balled up the front of your blouse in his fist. He wouldn’t dare. He pulled down, tearing the still damp fabric apart. Before you had the chance to rebuke him for having the audacity to rip one of your favorite shirts, his hand once again cupped your breast, this time slipping underneath your bra. His thick fingers rolled over your sensitive nipple and the sound you made was something so obscene you couldn’t believe that you had just produced it. He rubbed your already swollen nub raw. His fingers pinched and plucked and squeezed until you were a writhing mess in his arms, trying to escape the overstimulation.

“Shh, shh, shh,” his lurid voice whispered in your ear, “it’s okay, Y/N, I’ve got you. You’re doing just fine, sweetheart. God, you feel like perfection.” Suddenly, he stopped his ministrations and slid his hand up to your neck. He didn’t squeeze, just wrapped his fingers around your throat. He felt the thrum of your heartbeat against his thumb. Sebastian inhaled deeply, basking in your scent, “I knew you would be perfection,” 

He caressed the underside of your jaw with his calloused thumb and smiled when you shuddered at his touch. You were at his mercy, he was the one in charge now. It was he who made the rules and kept you in place, “You may think no man is ever looking at you, but trust me, I haven’t been able to look away since the day we met.” His tone was deceptively calm, but his heavy panting proved that he was just as worked up as you were. 

“You’re my every desire,” he growled, “do you know how many times I’ve fantasized about doing this exact thing? About pinning you down and touching every inch of you? Touching, caressing, squeezing your body until you’re a moaning mess. Unable to utter a single, infuriating word.” As he spoke he released his hold on your wrists, instead moving to the button of your jeans. He paused, his fingers skimmed over the clasp as if waiting to see what your next move would be. You couldn’t move, even if they were free now. You weren’t sure how he would react if you did, and you didn’t want to find out. This was not the Sebastian Stan you knew. This was something dark and unpredictable, something primal. A small part of your brain claimed that the real reason you didn’t fight was that you wanted him. That you wanted Sebastian to fuck you until you forgot your own name. “Good girl,” he remarked when you stayed still. You involuntarily preened at his praise, arching your back and grinding your ass against his crotch. He was hard, and from the feel of him, he was large. 

Sebastian hissed, sucking in a groan at the feeling of your ass against his throbbing erection, “You are infuriating, dragă,” he knew you despised his Romanian nickname for you. You had always assumed he used it to taunt you. You were nobody’s “darling.” Maybe he had been sincere this whole time. “You drive me crazy with every order, every scowl, every negative comment you throw at yourself.” He slipped his hand under your waistband, roaming down towards your sex. His fingers danced just above your heated center. “I think I’ve finally found a way to shut you up,” He cupped your mound, his chest rumbled when he felt the evidence of just how aroused you were. 

“S-Sebastian, please–” you weren’t sure if you were pleading for him to stop or for him to actually do something. Sebastian decided it was the latter and plunged a thick finger into your dripping pussy. 

He drew in a quick breath, “Fuck, you’re tight, sweetheart. Not sure if you’ll be able to take all of me-” he added another finger, working to get you ready-“but we won’t know until we try.” He continued to press and stretch your walls. When he added a third finger you lost it, giving up on holding back any sounds. The brief moments his palm brushed over your clit you mewled, desperate for more pressure on the pulsating bud. 

His hand that was still fisted around your neck squeezed before dropping down. He pushed down your pants even more so that they laid at your knees He pulled your thick thighs further apart, widening your stance for easier access to your drenched hole. When his fingers began an assault on your bundle of nerves you threw your head back, and obscene sounds flew from your lips. The fingers inside of you pressed against your G-spot and you started to tremble from the overstimulation.

Sebastian ran his chin along your jaw. The knowledge that he was making you come undone with only his hands was driving him crazy. He ground his clothed erection against your ass, smiling when you gasped at the feel of him. Focus back on you, he flattened his thumb on your clit, massaging it with precise motions. He was greedy for your release. 

It was all too much: Sebastian’s fingers pumping in and out of you, the exquisite pressure he was forcing upon your clit, the feel of his heavy breaths against your ear. You convulsed in his arms, your back arching up as molten lava flowed through your veins. 

You were still recovering from the high his fingers had just pulled from you, but Sebastian didn’t care. There was no way he was waiting another second to fuck you. He spun you around to face him. Your breath hitched in your throat when his hands moved to his pants. He pulled out his cock. It was thick and long, precum was already leaking from the tip. He stroked it from base to tip while his eyes devoured your disheveled state. Your breasts bounced with your every gasping breath. Your peaked nipples were still raw from his earlier torment. It looked like you might crumble that very second, too wrecked to stand up straight. You could barely hold your own weight, he had turned your bones into jelly. Sebastian smirked when he noticed the numerous marks he had left all over your neck and shoulders. His gaze wandered back to your face and his cock twitched when he saw the arousal clear in your eyes. Your irises were just thin halos of color shadowed by your blown-out pupils. It was a good thing he had already gotten you off because he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep from blowing his load once inside your velvety walls.

 “Look at me, dragă.” 

You refused, even though he had just given you the most intense orgasm of your life. There was something about this new position. You felt more vulnerable and didn’t want him to see that reflected in your expression. Instead, you turned your face away from his. That was a mistake.

Sebastian growled. He snatched your neck in his grip again, jerking your head forward to face him dead on. “What did I fucking say?” 

Your hazy focus zeroed in on him, hyperaware of the beating of your heart against his heavy palm. His fingers squeezed tighter and you rasped out, “To look at you.” 

His grip compressed even more, “Say my name. I want to make sure you know who’s in control now.”

It was a desperate fight for air to get the words out, “Y-you are-” He squeezed tighter- “Sebastian!” You managed to squeak out, seeing spots. His grip loosened enough for you to heave in a gasp of air, your body tingling from the return of oxygen to your veins. His hand was still wrapped around your throat, though, his intense blue eyes seemed to see into your soul, “You’re in control, Sebastian.”

“That’s a good girl, Y/N,” his low murmur was laced with warning, “You’re gonna take every inch I give you; gonna be a good girl for me,” his lips widened into an ominous grin, “I’m not going to hold back.” 

You gasped as he nudged your aching folds with the tip of his cock, running it up and down your pussy lips. He thrust into you without further warning. His lips met yours in a deep kiss at the same time. It was an overload of sensations, his tongue caressed the crease of your mouth, demanding entrance, while his hips pounded into you relentlessly. You arched into him, mewling at his unforgiving pace. Your hands flew up to his toned shoulders, gripping them so hard that Sebastian could feel the bite of your fingernails beneath his shirt. Finally prying your lips apart with his tongue, he crashed his lips onto yours, locking your tongues in a heated dance that took your breath away and left you wanting more. More of his mouth, more of his touch, more of him. 

Sebastian seemed to read your thoughts. He rutted into you with even more force. Your pussy walls ached at the stinging stretch of his thick cock. The hand that wasn’t around your neck grabbed your thigh. As he lifted it to wrap around his waist your pant leg slipped down to pool at your feet. His fingers dug into your thigh as he held your leg up. The new angle allowed him to slide against your upper wall with each thrust, the tip of his cock hitting the spot that sent shivers down your spine. He released his hold on your throat and brought it down to your center. When he massaged your clit with his dexterous fingers, you saw stars.

“Holy fuck,” you heaved, trying to get air in your lungs, “Sebastian! Oh my god, Sebastian-” All you could do was string together a jumble of incoherent words and moans and cries of pleasure-filled pain.

“Are you close, baby?” his raspy voice teased. He removed his hand from your core, resting it just above where you needed him. You whined at the loss and tried to grind up to reach fingers. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly, “Awww, poor thing. Do you wanna cum, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, desperate for release.

“Use your words, dragă,” he tapped his fingers lightly, still too far away for the motion to give you any relief.

“Y-Yes, I want to cum,” you hoped that would be enough for him to take pity on your unruly state.

It wasn’t. “Then beg for it. You already got to cum once, why should a disobedient, aggravating slut like you get to cum again?” The angle of his thrusts changed, he was chasing his own release now. If you didn’t convince him, he wasn’t going to let you cum. You didn’t have the energy in you anymore to be defiant for the sake of your dignity. Screw dignity. All you knew was that you needed him to fuck you until you came undone on his fat cock.

“Please, please let me cum on your dick. It’s all I want. I need it,” His hips angled up to brush against your G-spot again, but he still didn’t touch your clit, “Please, I’ll do anything. I’m sorry for what I did. Please forgive me, Sebastian, I need to cum. Make me cum on your thick cock. Please, Sebastian, please.” 

Sebastian tensed when you used his name, his hooded gaze darkened with a hungry desire at the sound of it coming from your lips. Satisfied, he brought his fingers back to your throbbing bud, “That’s my good girl.” You shrieked in delight. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking tight.” He pressed harder against your clit, repeatedly rolling over the spot that made you squeal in ecstasy. 

He groaned at your sounds, “You’re gonna cum when I tell you to, sweetheart.” His hips pumped up into yours, driving you both further to the edge. Sebastian’s grunts and moans filled the space, “Cum for me, Y/N.” Sebastian ordered as he took you, “Wanna feel your perfect cunt milk my cock dry,” his words sent you hurtling over the edge, and with one more snap of his hips, you were gone. Your insides spasmed and your entire body convulsed from the waves of pure bliss washing over you. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his defined shoulders. Sebastian kept moving his fingers against your clit, making your pussy clamp around his massive cock even tighter. 

Sebastian buried himself to the hilt and his load exploded inside of you. “Holy fuck!” He roared as thick ropes of cum coated your quivering walls. His body shuddered at the impact of his release. He felt lightheaded. He dug his fingers into the plump flesh of your waist to ground himself. Your soft whimpers were like music to his ears. He pulled you to him, cementing his cock inside of your still trembling walls. He shifted his hold so that one arm wrapped protectively around your waist. His other hand came up to gently cradle the side of your face. You were too spent to try and object to his hold. It was like your bodies melded into one; his hard, sculpted edges melted into your soft, rounded curves. Sebastian drank in the feeling of you. He was never going to let you go. His fingers lifted your chin so that your eyes met his and he planted a chaste kiss on your lips. “Looks like you’re not as repellent as you thought, dragă.”

(P.S. I really like this handler!reader concept so I might make some more that are also stand-alone's.)

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size fic #sebastian stan x fem reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan smut #dark fic #dark!sebastian stan #soft!dark sebastian stan #dark!sebastian stan x reader #plus-size!reader #sebastian stan rpf #rpf #marvel rpf #mine #my writing #sebastian stan fanfiction #handler!reader #plussize!reader #dub-con #non-con #dub/non-con

[imhereforbrownies]

Ultraviolet - pt. 3

Bodyguard!Seo Changbin/F!Reader

Summary: It’s your birthday party and Changbin has to watch over you. And you don’t make it easy for him by any means.

Warnings: drinking, cursing, jealous!reader, jealous!Binnie, mentions of nudity, a tiny bit of angst, fluff

Word count: 4.6k+

part one | two

————————————————————

Your birthday was approaching and with that you became a little happier, an easy smile returning to your lips, which was something that pleased both your father and Changbin.

After the night he let you sleep in his bed with him, the two of you somehow settled back into a sort of friendly relationship. He could still see the way you were looking at him, making his heart roar for you every time his eyes met yours but he knew this was the best place the two of you could end up in at the moment. You didn't fight anymore, there was no more silent treatment, just smiles and little talks here and there, the comfort returning at least partly into whatever was between the two of you, which he was grateful for.

Your father took it upon himself to prepare a perfect party for you and Changbin could see how happy it made you to be working on something with him, to finally spend time together again. Your enthusiasm became his own and he found himself excited about this party of yours too.

Well, not anymore.

Watching as you stand by the pool just in your pretty purple bikini with drink in your hand as you chat with whoever that boy is, Changbin feels his blood boil.

Your father decided to leave for the night, allowing you to have your privacy and fully enjoy the party, leaving the responsibility of your safety on Changbin's shoulders. And he just couldn't take this.

Of course, he expected you will invite boys too, not just girls but he kinda thought he'll be able to master his will enough to not be bothered by it. Yet here he is, starring daggers into that poor boy.

His gaze slips to you and he can't help the drop of his heart once he notices the bright grin on your face as you laugh at something that guy said, your hand hitting his bicep playfully.

Do you like him? Do you have a crush on him that Changbin doesn't know about?

When he looks at the boys again, he might understand where that would be coming from. He's handsome, still a bit shorter than you but not as apparently as he is, and there are dimples on his cheeks every time he laughs at your reply.

Changbin curses himself internally, clenching his jaw and willing himself to not do something stupid.

He was the one who told you you two have to stay friends, he was the one who pushed you away. If you decide to find a replacement for him, it shouldn't bother him.

But it does. God, you have no idea how much.

"Changbin?"

The female voice calling his name snaps him out of his thoughts, the frown on his face relaxing as his deep brown eyes meet one of your friends.

It takes him a minute to realize what her name was... maybe Anna?

"What are you doing here on your own, hm? That cannot be entertaining," she states, stepping a little closer to him before taking a sip of the drink in her hand, which perfectly matches the one in your own. However, she had way more of it than you did and it's apparent in the way she's trying to keep standing straight and somehow isn't able to make it happen.

She's pretty, her petite body covered poorly in the red bikini she wears. Changbin knows your friends find him attractive, he's not dumb. The last time they were over, they made it clear enough for him to understand. So even now he has a solid idea of what she wants from him.

"I have work to do, Miss. I'm not here for entertainment," he replies, keeping his expression emotionless before he turns to look at you, only to find you already gazing at him, the conversation you were having with that boy half-forgotten.

Oh?

That almost makes Changbin smirk. Almost.

"Oh, come on," your friend insists and suddenly there's a warm hand sliding over his shoulder, making him promptly turn to the girl in surprise.

"Just a second. I'll make it quick, I promise. Y/Nie can handle herself here on her own for a while, I'm sure about that," she murmurs, glancing up at Changbin and bating her eyelashes as if that could make him cave but it has no effect on him.

Once again he asks himself how can someone like this be your friend? How can you keep someone who's acting this way on your own birthday party so close to you? You're such a sweet, kind girl, nothing like this woman who's trying to persuade him that fucking her might make his night.

So foolish, isn't she? Because Changbin doesn't want anyone but you. The you who's now making her way around the pool to the two of them only to swat your friend's hand off of his broad shoulder and grab it in yours instead, leading her away without as much as a word thrown his way, leaving him standing there completely perplexed at your reaction.

That is until you turn around to give him a little frown and Changbin knows exactly what's up.

It's just like the first night.

You're jealous.

Even after all that happened, you want him all to yourself just as much as he wants you.

It shouldn't please Changbin the way it does, not when having each other is not an option for the two of you. But his heart burns as he watches you dragging your stumbling friend inside, scolding her quietly for drinking too much.

Changbin softly chuckles at that, shaking his head as if he wanted to get rid of the affection he feels for you.

"Hey there," the male voice comes from behind him, making him stiffen.

He turns his head towards the guy, only to find the one you talked with before standing there, hands hidden in the pockets of his swim shorts nonchalantly.

"Hey," he grunts, not sure what's this boys deal.

"You're Y/N's bodyguard right?" He asks, taking a step closer.

Changbin hums in agreement.

"And you are?"

"Oh! I'm her friend, I guess. We have a class together even though we are both different majors. I'm Chris," he introduces himself, offering Changbin his hand, the dimples pressing into his cheeks as he smiles.

"I see. I'm Changbin," he accepts the offered hand and shakes it a little before sliding his hands into the pockets of his trousers too.

"Nice to meet you. Y/N told me a lot about you. You seem like a pretty cool guy," Chris states, smiling at him again. Changbin adverts his gaze from his face, trying to keep his unyielding expression.

What the hell does he want? Why is he being so friendly? Is he trying to start off good with him so he can get to you easier?

Changbin doesn't like him. That's for sure.

"Thanks. On the other hand I haven't heard much about you," he states, watching with amusement as Chris's lips part in surprise.

"Oh, that's fine! It's not like me and Y/N are super close," he brushes it off with a small smile, looking around the pool to escape Changbin's intense gaze.

"You like her, don't you?" He finds himself asking, making the boy in front of him stiffen again.

"Uhm- I mean- I do, yeah. Y/N is a really nice girl," Chris replies, not breaking the eye contact with Changbin this time.

He's just about to tell him that you are much more than that, when you appear by his side.

"What are you two chatting about here, hm?" You inquire, smile on your face as you glance first at Changbin and then at your friend, making them both look away from each other.

"Just getting to know each other," Chris replies and Changbin hums in agreement, clenching his hands into fists as he tries to resist the urge to pull you close against his body. To show that guy who you truly belong to.

But you are not really Changbin's, are you?

"Oh, that's nice. I should've introduced the two of you sooner. Chris here is a music major. You should hear the stuff he makes. He's gonna be famous one day, for sure," you state with a grin, while the boy turns rather sheepish, brushing off your compliment.

Changbin's heart sinks once more in his chest.

Music. That's something he wanted to do. Something he loved too. He still does. But he never had the chance to follow that dream, to make it into reality.

And that guy has the audacity to stand here and act as if it's nothing. He can't help the envy that pierces through his heart. Is he going to steal you from him too?

"No, I mean it! He makes songs with his friend Jisung and the whole campus listens to it. It's great," you state, glancing at Changbin, proud smile on your face that hurts him more than he's ever willing to admit.

"Good for you, man," Changbin gives Chris a nod and the guy smiles.

"Thanks. Oh! My sister just showed up. I gotta go," he exclaims, his gaze suddenly focused somewhere behind the two of you and you quickly turn that way too, waving at the girl.

"See you around, Chris!"

"See ya!"

You giggle a little at that before returning your attention to Changbin, the frown and the way he emptily stares at the water in the pool in front of him not going unnoticed by you.

"What's up?" You ask quietly, stepping a little closer to him to make sure this stays a private conversation even with all those people around you.

"It's nothing. Are you enjoying your party?" Changbin asks, looking up at you with a little smile on his lips.

It's like you flipped a switch. He's hiding something. And you don't like that.

"Changbin, I know something is bothering you. Can you tell me about it?" You try and he shakes his head.

"Nothing's bothering me," he denies and you frown.

"I know it though. You don't like Chris, is that it? Or is it because of Anna? I put her to sleep, she won't bother you anymore, I promise," you say and Changbin can't help but smile genuinely this time.

Look at you, trying to figure out all his problems in that pretty little head of yours. That's how much you care about him?

"No, I'm fine. I just want you to enjoy your night. You've never really answered my question, Miss," he states and you drop the frown and chuckle at his teasing tone.

"Oh, come on! Of course, I'm enjoying myself," you say, bringing your glass to your lips to take a little sip, making him smirk.

"I hope Dorothy won't have to clean up the results of your fun tomorrow morning," he states and you smack his shoulder.

"Stop it! I've never been that drunk in my life," you exclaim.

"Well, there is first time for everything," he states and you chuckle.

"Not for this though. I don't drink. This is my last one, I swear."

-

Well, to nobody's surprise, that wasn't your last one. There was no way Yeji and Lia would ever let that be your last drink. And so when you approached Changbin about an hour later, you were a goner.

He watched you carefully from afar the whole time, ready to interfere whenever something would become too much but even when you are drunk you're no match to your friends. They still made you dance on a table top though, which Changbin found pretty amusing.

"Changbin," you murmur, stumbling to him with a glass of vodka in your hand, making him smirk.

"Yeah?" He asks, ready to catch you if you lost your balance but you make it safely all the way to him.

"I think I had enough," you state, looking down at him with glossy eyes, your hair pulled back messily from your face.

"Should we call it a night then?" He offers and you shake your head, your body swaying a bit with that and you brace yourself against Changbin's chest, his hands coming to your waist for support, meeting your bare burning skin.

"No, no. I don't want to ruin the night for others. I'm just- I'm just gonna nap," you say, your eyes already closing a little.

"Where are your friends?" He asks, looking around over your shoulder as you lean your head on his own.

"Anna's asleep in the guest room. And- and I don't know- I don't know where's the rest," you murmur, nuzzling closer to him, your bodies being parted only by the cold bottle of vodka.

"Okay, I'll help you to bed then," Changbin decides, knowing he has to busy the two of you with something or this won't end up well.

And so when you hum in agreement, he pulls away from you, taking the bottle from you and grabbing your hand, letting you intervene your fingers before he leads you back inside.

He can already picture the mess that's gonna be left here tomorrow. Passing by all those couples making out by the side of your house and people using your father's bonsai pots to vomit, he's reminded why he always hated parties.

You two somehow manage to make your way through the crowd even though you keep making stops to say goodbye to everyone so the time it would usually take to reach your room is noticeably prolonged.

So once Changbin closes the door of your room behind you, locking the bustle of the party on the other side of the door, he can't help but let out an exhausted sigh.

"Okay, you should take a shower," he turns to you, only to find you sitting on your bed, staring at your toes as you wiggle them against the fluffy carpet.

You hum but make no move for it and so Changbin decides to help you. He approaches your closet, taking out an oversized t-shirt and a pair of cotton panties before heading to your en suite bathroom. He puts the clothes on the counter before returning to you.

"Y/N, come on. You need to wash up," he states and you look up at him, lips softly parted, eyes all big and wide as if you didn't understand a word he's saying.

Why are you this cute even when you're drunk?

"Get up, Y/N," he tries again and this time you seem to listen to him, grabbing on his forearms for support as you straighten up, coming now face to face with him as he tilts his head up a bit to look at you.

"Are you still sad, Binnie?" You ask suddenly, staring down at where your fingers run over the hem of his rolled up sleeves, the question catching him completely off guard.

"What?" He murmurs and you meet his gaze, your own full of worry.

"You are sad, aren't you? Or- or you were... by the pool earlier. What's going on?" You question softly, your hands making their way down to his own and you intervene your fingers once again, your gentle hands fitting into his rough ones like a piece of puzzle, making him hold in his breath, eyes unable to leave your own.

What kind of a spell did you put on him?

"I'm not- I'm not sad, Y/N," he states and you pout.

"Don't lie, I saw it, Binnie. Tell me about it. Please. I always tell you when I'm sad," you murmur, looking at him with such intensity and affection, that it leaves his heart feeling raw and bare.

"I'm not sad. I mean it. I feel fine, really," he states but you still don't seem to believe him.

"Why do you always have to lie to me?" You whisper, glancing at him before  you look down and lean your head against his shoulder once more to hide your face and keep your head from spinning so much.

Changbin stiffens, perplexed.

"I- I don't want to lie to you, Y/N. I just- I just don't want to complicate things," he states and you sigh, nuzzling your nose into the collar of his shirt, your hands coming to rest on his broad chest.

Your head hurts way too much for you to be having this kind of conversation with him yet you're not willing to give up, the alcohol making it so much easier for you to talk to him.

"You wouldn't complicate anything, Binnie. I- I wanna know what's going on in your head," you whisper and he smiles softly, running his hand over your bare back, resisting the urge to pull you closer.

You're so sweet to him, always so sweet.

"It's nothing you should worry about, Y/N. The only thing that should trouble you is taking shower right now, stinky bug," he teases and you gasp, pulling away a bit to look at him.

"How dare you?" You ask, offended expression on your face and he can't help but chuckle.

"Come on," he murmurs, grabbing your shoulders and turning you around, leading you towards your bathroom, ignoring your whines and protests.

When he gets you past the doorstep, he lets go of you, his hands immediately missing the contact with your soft, warm skin.

You turn to him with a little pout, apparently not satisfied with what he made you do.

"I'm not a stinky bug!" You exclaim, frowning at him, which amuses Changbin even more.

"I hate to break it to you but right now you kinda are. Maybe if you wash up, things will change," he states as if he was talking to a little child, making your frown deepen.

"That- that's still rude," you state, looking away from him as you raise your hands behind your back to fumble with the string of your bikini that keeps the whole flimsy thing together, making Changbin's eyes widen.

"Wait- I- I'll give you some privacy," he states, taking a step back and forcing himself to keep his eyes on your pretty face and not on your breasts that you just freed from the confines of the top of your bikini, leaving the freely hanging material to cover it poorly.

You look at him, lips slightly parted as if you just now realized that he's in the same room as you and that what you are doing is probably not very appropriate, your hands flying up to cover your chest.

"S-sure, sorry," you murmur, biting on your lower lip in embarrassment and Changbin gets this feeling he might do something really really bad.

But instead he adverts his gaze from you completely and quickly gets out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him as swiftly as possible, his heart hammering in his chest.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Why are you like this? What has he done to be tested so bad? Does God hate him? 

It pretty much seems like it.

Why else would he make him witness what he just witnessed when there's nothing Changbin can do about it?

And the expression on your face... So clueless and innocent, aren't you? Stripping in front of him like it's nothing and then acting all dumb about it. Is this all because you're so drunk?

Thank God Changbin is here. Who knows what would happen if any other guy got you alone like that. Maybe a guy like Chris. Changbin's blood boils just thinking about it.

"Changbin?"

Your voice tears him from his thoughts and he curses quietly under his breath.

"Yes, Y/N?"

There's a little pause and then a thud, making Changbin's brows furrow in worry.

Are you even able to wash yourself on your own?

"I- I just wanted to make sure you didn't left yet. I- I'm not a stinky bug," you state and Changbin chuckles, resting his hands on his hips as he shakes his head in disbelief.

"Sure. I'm not going anywhere," he assures you and you let out something like a hum, before there's the sound of running water as you turn on the shower.

He can hear you singing to yourself quietly as you wash yourself, making him smile softly while he patiently waits outside for your return.

He can still hear the ruckus from downstairs, the party being in full flow even without you there. Changbin's determined to put you to sleep and then get rid of all the kids down there, even though you wished to let them party some more.

It doesn't take long for you to finish your shower, turning off the water and climbing out of it. You dry yourself with your warm, fluffy towel, somehow managing to keep your balance even though it takes all you have, the whole world spinning with you a bit too much for your liking.

You put on the clothes Changbin prepared for you before you walk out of the bathroom only to find him standing  by the big windows, looking down at your friends still having fun.

"I- I don't stink anymore," you murmur, bringing his attention to you almost immediately. Changbin's eyes meet your before he quickly scans your body, taking in the way you get swallowed up by the oversized t-shirt, the coziness of your look making him smile.

"Good. My mission is almost done then. Now all I have to do is get you into bed," he states and you let out a laugh.

"Don't be silly. I- I can do that on my own," you say, heading to your bed slowly before sitting down on it and slipping underneath the covers. Changbin then approaches you, fixing the comforter for you so it covers you fully and just then he looks down at you with a smile.

"You'll be good?" He asks.

"I'm always good," you reply with a little pout and Changbin clenches his jaw lightly.

"That's not what I meant, Y/N. I meant if you won't be sick," he explains and you stiffen.

"Oh," you murmur.

"No, I think- I think I'll be fine," you reply, making yourself comfortable as you can feel your eyes growing heavier and heavier.

"Good. I'll go then," he states, straightening up, but you're quick to sit up and grab his hand.

"Don't- don't leave just yet," you plead, looking up at him with those big puppy eyes he was never able to resist.

He bites the inside of his cheek, knowing that this is a dangerous game he's playing.

"Fine, but only for a while, okay?" He offers and you nod excitedly, laying back down and pulling the blanket closer to cover you all the way to your nose.

Changbin sits down on the bed by your side, gazing at your pretty face under the warm light of the lamp on your bedside table and he can't help but realize how lucky he is to be this close to you. To be able to see you so casual and vulnerable, without any restrictions, knowing he's the only one. No one is as close to you as he is, but even with that in mind he wishes to be ever closer to you. He wants to be yours. And he wants you to be his. He wants to see you like this every day, just in oversized t-shirts and messy hair, to cuddle you, to kiss you, to finally fuck your so good you'll never ever want anyone but him. He knows he would be able to give you all that, to worship you like you deserve. But he also knows he doesn't have the resources to actually give you everything you deserve, to spoil you like you're used to. And if your father knew about this, about those feelings he has for you, about what happened a few weeks ago, Changbin would for sure lose his job and then... what about his mother?

"You- you're thinking too hard about something again," you say, your words interrupted by a yawn, your eyes barely open now but you still keep them fixed on Changbin.

"Don't worry about it, Y/N," he whispers, glancing at you to give you a soft smile.

"You always say that," you murmur, reaching your hand from underneath the blanket to envelope his own in it.

"It's because I don't want you to worry," he states and you hum.

"I know. And I don't- I don't want you to be sad," you say quietly, your words making Changbin's heart flutter.

Always so caring about him, aren't you?

"I'm not sad. Not when I have a stinky bug like you by my side," he states and you whine in protest, smacking his hand with yours, making him chuckle.

"Changbin! I don't stink," you state, pouting at him and he holds back his laugh, looking down at your joined hands instead.

"I know you don't. I'm just teasing you," he states.

"You're so mean," you murmur and he glances at you.

"Mean?" He repeats.

"Yes," you state, fighting to keep your eyes open as you squeeze his hand lightly.

"Is that so? What should I do for you to forgive me then?" He asks, knowing you're seconds from falling asleep but he's still hesitant to leave your side

"You- you can kiss me," you whisper and Changbin stiffens.

"Kiss you?"

"Mhm."

"You know I can't do that," he states, his eyes involuntarily slipping to your plush lips, your glistening eyes opening up a bit wider now as you look up at him.

"Just one kiss, please," you murmur, squeezing on his hand again.

"It's my birthday."

That's a low blow.

And Changbin knows that the kind of effect you have on him is wrong and that he shouldn't let his heart win over once again but looking into your pleading eyes, he knows he would never be able to deny you.

And so he moves a little closer, leaning down to you and cupping your cheeks, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment, assuring you didn't change your mind but when you close them, leaning in to him, he just goes for it, pressing his lips against yours softly.

It's hard to describe what it feels like. It's so much different than the last time, sweeter, slower and more passionate. As if the time you were held apart intensified your feelings, making it purer, stronger and all consuming.

You hum his name against his lips before you pull him a bit closer, fingers running into his dark hair, making him hold back a groan.

His heart beats so fast it might as well leap out of his chest, your every kiss stealing air from his lungs, leaving him breathless, his mind turning foggy. He wouldn't allow this otherwise, would he?

When he finally forces himself to pull away, you both inhale eagerly to catch your breaths, wide eyes meeting each other, fingers still hesitating in their designated spots, yours in his hair and his on your soft cheeks.

Changbin realizes you both probably cannot believe it. You held yourself apart for so long, trying not to break the secret agreement you've made, that when it finally happened, you both feel like you've just committed something forbidden, something sinful and wrong, yet something so heavenly good that it cannot be considered a crime.

"Binnie, I-," you begin but he hushes you gently, pressing his thumb against your slightly swollen lips as he shakes his head a bit, dismissing whatever you were about to say as his eyebrows furrow.

"Good night, Y/N."

And with that, he parts from you, standing up and heading to the door, the loud music from the party cutting through the peacefulness of your room as he opens it and slips outside before silence settles in once again as he closes it shut, leaving you sitting on your bed with wide eyes and parted lips.

Guess some birthday wishes do get granted.

————————————————————

A/N: hey babes! I was finally in some better mood and I managed to put this little thing together. I’m sorry t last chapter was sort of a filler, I’ve got big plans with this though and I really hope you’ll like it. Let me know as always! And btw thank you for all the love you’re showing to my works and this blog in general, it makes me so happy! Luv u ❤️

#skz #stray kids #stray kids fluff #fluff #skz fanfic #kpop #seo changbin x reader #stray kids fanfic #seo changbin x you #seo changbin #seo changbin x y/n #curvy reader #innocent!reader #tall!reader #curvy!reader #chubby!reader #plus-size!reader #bodyguard!changbin

[coffeepancakes42]

Perfect

Azriel x Plus-size!reader

Summary: Sometimes when you're surrounded by slender figures and petite bodies it can get to your head but luckily your mate is there to support you.

Warnings: no smut but some suggestive and vulgar-is language so 16+

A/N: This is my first ever fic! Right now I'll probably stick to writing only ACoTaR stuff but I'm open to experimenting with other fandoms as well. Hope you enjoy this blurb, I feel like I can never relate to the reader in a lot of fics so I wrote something that is inspired a bit by me and my thoughts:)

Rays of sun flitted throughout your bedroom through the half-open curtains, disrupting the peaceful darkness that surrounded you. Part of you wished you could have been woken up a much more pleasurable way, with Azriel smothering you with his love, however the shadowsinger had left early in the morning to train with Cassian. God sometimes you wanted to throttle the general for dragging your mate out of bed with you so early in the morning.

Groaning you rose out of bed and made your way to the bathroom to make yourself look somewhat presentable for the rest of the inner circle. While Feyre and Mor rose out of bed looking like they just had been kissed by the gods, your bed-head and puffy eyes made it look like you were the crazy-cat lady of Velaris. Avoiding looking in the mirror as you combed through the knots in your hair, your thoughts returned once more to the high lady and her friends.

It wasn't fair. How could Feyre and the rest of the perfect women in the night court have tight toned bodies and stunning faces while you were stuck with your annoyingly huge thighs, thick arms, round face, and big belly? As much as you loved him your mate didn't do anything to help your thoughts of self-deprecation. Azriel was truly sculpted by the gods, the most beautiful creature you ever set your eyes on. It was hard to ignore some of the stares you two attracted while walking through velairs, many of the young women looking confused as they beheld Azriel walking with you. If anything, his beauty standing right next to you brought out more of your flaws, although Azriel would insist on you being the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

Getting dressed you opted for a simple pair of leggings and a sweater, the autumn breeze bringing a chill to Velaris. Walking out of the room, you made your way up to the roof to behold your glorious mate clashing swords with Cassian. Mor, Feyre, and Nesta were already lounging on the chairs, the two sisters oggoling the two powerful bodies moving in front of them. Shirtless and sweaty slicked bodies. You desperately tried to let on how much Azriel was affecting you, to not feed into the Illyrians ego too much more.

Instead, you focused on making your way over to the women, noticing their much more form fitting clothes that accented their curves and each wore a color that brought out their eyes. Next to them you  looked lost, like you were in no way supposed to be there next to the three goddesses. You started to regret coming up when finally the two Illyrians finished their sparring, making their way over. Azriel looked to you, attempting to make eye contact but you averted your eyes which were desperately trying not to cry. Feelings of worry and concern flowed down the bond, softly caressing your mental shields. Sighing, knowing that he would discover your insecurities sooner or later you let him in, showing him the hundreds of moments you felt unworthy of him. You showed you standing in front of the wretched mirror in your room, trying to suck in your stomach and experimenting which stance would lessen your chubbiness.

Immediately he grabbed you and shot into the air, flying you to the balcony that was attached to your room, holding you so tightly to him you thought you might pop. Distantly you heard Cassian’s roaring laugh, probably assuming you two had promptly left to go have sex. Landing you hurried inside, not wanting to meet the shadowsingers hazel eyes.

“Why haven't you told me about these feelings my love?”, Azriel asked, hurt swirling in his eyes at the self hatred he felt from the other side of the bond. Your heart squeezed at the softness lining his voice. Shaking you sat on the comforter of your bed, Azriel following suit.

“It’s just- how can you bear to be with me when we are constantly surrounded by all these slender and beautiful women? Maybe not now but eventually you're going to tire of me, of this”, I said motioning at my plump figure.  

Azriel got up and did something he had never done before. He kneeled. He kneeled in front of his mate, the woman whom he thought was a goddess the moment he saw her. Azriel couldn't comprehend the hatred filled thoughts that clouded his mates mind.

“I love you. Exactly the way you are, how the Mother made you.” He raised a hand to wipe away the tears that had begun to slide down your face.

“ I will never tire of you, ever. You are the only woman that has touched my heart in the way you do. And if you allow me, I'll spend every second of the rest of our lives worshiping this beautiful body, the body that belongs to the person I love the most in the world.”

Azriel had confessed his love to you before, but never like this. Never had been so vulnerable to you, his hands trembling as they held the back of your calves.

Rising up to his full height, he offers his hand to you, and taking it he leads you to the mirror.

“Look at yourself Y/N.” Azriel softly commands, your gaze raising to you body in the mirror, leaning against Azriel’s powerful one.

Bringing a hand to the top of your thighs, Azriel starts dissecting his love for your body. “I love these. I love your thighs, especially when they jiggle whike you walk or when they jiggle while I’m fucking you.” At that my cheeks are stained red as I struggle to maintain eye contact with him.

“I love your stomach and hips. There's so much to hold as you ride me or while we are walking in Velaris. I love how soft it is when I rest in your lap, it’s like my own personal pillow.” Now tears are flowing freely down your face as you behold the lovesick eyes of your mate.

His hands travel up to your breasts, which are in no way as full as the rest of you and don’t sit as many others do. “These will be the death of me,” Azriel’s hands covering each entirely as he struggles to not take of your bra and worship your breasts for hours.

“So soft and theres nothing as enrapturing as how they bounce as I fuck you,” he says, all while maintaining our eye contact. His love is surrounding me as I turn around to meet him face to face.

“I love you, and I will never stop telling you how much I adore you and your body. You look straight out of a painting, and I never want you to think that you are unworthy of me. If anything I am the unworthy one. You are painstakingly pure while I have committed atrocities, but you have taught me to love myself and now I am returning the favor.” Azriel places his hands on my face and I turn slightly to place a soft kiss on his palm.

Leaning forward he softly places his lips onto mine, without a rush, without any urge to take it farther. My chest feels like it will combust from love as I kiss the magnificent man in front of you. As I continue kissing him I know these thoughts won’t magically go away but with Azriel by my side I can start to heal.

Taking my hand, he leads me back to the bed, a mischievous glint now returning to his eyes as he lies me down.

“Let me show you how perfect you are,” he says as he begins raising my shirt to place soft kisses, leading them downwards to where heat is beginning to pool in my stomach.

Something tells me we won't be leaving for many hours, and after settling myself down onto my back I smile, knowing as long as Azriel is with me he will always continue to make me feel beautiful.

#azriel #acotar #azriel x reader #plus-size!reader #acotar x reader

[imaginedreamwrite]

Here’s Your Perfect — Prologue

The billowing skirts of the guests that had come and gone from the halls had been delicately crafted and created with ease and lightness that made those same women look as if they were physically floating across the detailed floor. You had watched them with enticing envy for their ability to steal glances from across the room and sweep hearts out from men’s chests with little thought. It was with that kind of envious draw that made you look at the dress you were wearing with subjugation.

There was no fine lace, there were no deep cuts and details that would have accentuated your waist, the only added benefit you had for being a woman with greater curves and density was the curvature of your breasts that were held by reinforced boning channels that had felt as if they were going to steal your breath.

You were hardly the woman any man had wanted and when it came to trying to find suitors for yourself, your father would have rather found another man for your brother to marry than yourself.

“We will find someone.” In the ways of this bitter trial to find a future husband, your mother and father had focused on pawning you off to men who would get a healthy sum of money, just to take you off their hands. “There’s plenty of men who are looking for…someone…like you.”

Your mother had declared herself a woman of intrigue and beauty, a woman who had stolen your father’s heart with enough power to make him leave his first wife for her. And their marriage had resulted in two children, your brother and yourself.

Unlike you, your mother was a beautiful and charming woman with a slender waist and the youthfulness that still clung to her despite being upwards of age. She conducted herself with an air of sophistication anywhere she had went and with her charm had come a great social circle that granted both her and your father with acquaintances.

Your brother was just as charming and just as attractive as both your parents were, and with his charm and charisma had come a great number of women fawning over him. He had an air of bravado and witticism that followed him, drawing many people to himself with easement.

You were the odd one out, you were the one who had seemingly not belonged to your family.

You were a woman who was quiet, demure yes, but only because you were made to be. You would never willingly attend parties for the sake of being social, you would rather spend hours in the library reading or in the garden admiring the beauty of nature. You had taken it upon yourself to be your own entertainment and friend.

“There are so many beautiful women here,” your brother had beamed when he arrived at the party, eager to spend the late hours of the party tucked away in some corner with a maid’s nipples in his mouth, “and then there’s you.”

Your hands ran traced the corset of your dress, eyes sweeping across the floor. No one had sought you out to dance, no one had sought you out for conversations or marriage.

You would be doomed to the brothel the moment your mother and father had gotten sick of you.

“No one wants a woman like you.”

Courtships and arranged marriages were all proper society had known, women who had no prospects were what the brothels craved.

“Your mother wanted me to inform you,” your father cornered you at the ball, his eyes spiteful and narrowed, “that we’ve both secured you in a marriage. Two poor fools have declared their intent to marry you.”

“Me?”

“A dowry was declined.” Your father seemed relived, and then boastful. “The men have given us a great sum to get rid of you.”

“Father-“

“You won’t be a whore at a brothel, but a whore in the marriage bed. Congratulation, daughter. There was a purpose for you after all.”

• Silverfox or childhood friends? • who do you want to see in this series?

#plus-size!Reader #plus-size reader #plus size!reader drabble #historic au #historic au series #here’s your perfect #here’s your perfect series #here’s your perfect prologue #here’s your perfect masterlist

[steve-harringtons-blog]

omg id be your girl in a heartbeat 😪😫😩! but im big so would you still want me if im chubby??

Honey, baby, what does you being bigger have to do with my feelings for you? I love you no matter what size!

You know how much I love your body and all its reactions to me, but that was never why I fell for you.

I fell for you because you're a good person, sweet, loving, and kind. Your smile lights the room and warms my heart. I love your eyes, the high-pitched sounds you make when you find something really funny, and the way you let me hold you when we watch movies on the couch. I love that you let me love you.

Please don't ever think happiness is bound to a specific size or weight, honey. You deserve the world, no matter what you look like.

Give yourself a bit more love for me, okay, babygirl? 🤎

#✉️ #steve harrington roleplay #steve harrington rp #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington x plus-size!reader #plus-size!reader #plus size!reader #steve harrington x plus size!reader #stranger things roleplay

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with Simon Riley (Part 2):

Having a giggle/chuckle fest almost every time you are intimate. It first happened at the beginning of your relationship when you would giggle every time you two kissed. It opened the floodgates, had let that nervous energy out, and Simon was right there chuckling with you. ("Heh—aw, fuck me.")

Swearing up and down that you're gonna fuck each other's brains out but as soon as you hit the bed, you and Simon are out like a light. The last time this happened, he was supposed to go down on you, but the next thing you know, you woke up to him fast asleep with his head on your stomach.

Kissing the bridge of his crooked nose and Simon turning into putty every time. Hell, kissing any and every dent, bruise, and scar, and making your man melt.

A nice round of horizontal tango turning into a cuddle session after you comforted Simon through a charley horse. Poor baby.

Initially making the telly watch you two make sex but turns out whatever you're watching was pretty decent after all so you guys are back to watching the telly again.

Getting hot and heavy one time but you were so intrigued with the mole you discovered on Simon's inner thigh that you spent the next half-hour or so trying to find other moles on his body.

Telling Simon that you "always wanted to do this" and when you get him hot, bothered, and hard, it turns out what you always wanted to do was measure him. His disappointment was immeasurable... even if he was interested to know the number.

Twinning in some way, shape, or fashion whenever you're out together.

Talking mad shit about his snoring but let him tell it, he doesn't say shit when you take up about 80% of the bed, covers, and sleep under him.

Speaking of talking shit, having disagreements like every couple does and when you go to bed, you're angrily cuddling each other. And yes, Simon still wants your kisses in the morning, even if you two are still mad at each other. Simon doesn't give a shit, you're still gonna love on him, dammit. And him on you.

Being mad with Simon when he arrived too late to get the creepy crawler that was harassing you. Harassing you by doing what it does best: be a creepy crawler. Simon tells you you'll have to conquer your fear one day. You tell him to conquer the couch tonight lmao.

Agreeing to disagree about the superior ice cream flavor in the house. It's too bad there's not any of his favorite ice cream in the freezer. There's some of yours, though. Why? You didn't get any because it was so superior that you wouldn't "dare sully it with your hands". Cue the judgemental stare and him eating YOUR ice cream afterward. Rude.

Scaring the ever-living shit out of Simon on the rare occasions he gets to sleep in. He woke up to you sitting up in bed with his mask and paint on. Oh, and he calls bullshit. He did not nearly fall out the bed. Nor did he jump. Okay, Simon.

Chilling and drinking with Simon. Finding out he gets hot and sweaty pretty easily and off comes his clothes. Waking up hungover the next morning and you're the big spoon to a naked and equally hungover Simon. Choosing to do fuck all but sleep it off that day.

Playfully calling or referring to him as the Missus, especially in front of your co-workers. When they finally meet Simon and ask him who he is, he replies in pure deadpan Ghost fashion: "The Missus".

#2queued4u. #nsfw-ish. #cw: alcohol consumption #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern lovefare. #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #x plus size reader #x poc reader #x black reader #task force 141

[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #call of duty #cod x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #ghost x reader #plus size reader #fat reader #reader insert #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #smut #cod smut #reader insert smut #one shot #Ghost with OCD is my roman empire #he’s so much more well adjusted than I usually write him but it was fun #holly writes

[suguruplsr]

NEED THAT DICKOLOGY!

— fucking your mentor?

geto suguru x fem! virgin reader , v random + pure filthy smut , oral (f) , protected sex ! , overstimulation , folding position , bar restroom scene > car scene , face riding , fingering , hair pulling , choking + spitting n mouth , not proofread + rushed so lmk what i missed ! 🪐

⸝⸝ psychology.. the study of the mind. a beautiful study you’ve always found yourself interested in, along with the long hour videos of interrogations of criminals. so having a mentor for the job you’re aiming for as a criminal psychologist, is very helpful.

like when he takes you out to dinners with large politicians to study their behaviors. not everyone’s a good person, he reminds you.

not everyone’s a good person, when suguru’s looks fucking edible with his dress shirts and slacks, always leaving out a button undone and his beautiful hair draping around him like a water fall. when he looks like a trap you’d love to walk into.

you’d do anything to imprint the image of his stupidly handsome casual+formal look in your mind, the one you love to imagine him wearing when you’re thinking about him taking you on his office desk, so why not take him out for once?

who knew you’d get so lucky..

“we’re still in public,” suguru huffs with a smile, clearly teasing you with that glimmer in his eyes. ignorant, you continue to kiss against his lips, eager and hungry to the male pressed against your body in the shammy bar restroom. “please.” you beg, nearly whining and mewling for suguru with your drawled voice.

you lick at the lingering liquor transmitted from his lips. his hands gripping your waist. his cologne filling your nostrils. his stupid smile. why did your stupid mentor have this— even more stupid, affect on you?

“please what?” “i don’t know suguru,” you impatiently bite back, frowning at his deep seductive chuckle. the kind that pulls victims like you into his aura. into a man who’ll put you into a trance. which it does, “i just need you, please, touch me suguru..”

suguru lets out a deep sigh at your words, eyes speaking louder than his unspoken words. but you can feel his growing erection against your thigh, and you’d gladly point it out if he wasn’t looking at you like he needs you just as much as you need him.

poor girl, he thinks. one of his hands on your waist trail up. his right one, going up to your throat and giving it a comfortable squeeze. he holds you like you’re nothing, and it makes you want him even more, stomach turning with need as he tilts your head back.

soon he’s attacking your exposed neck— and you’d think he’s a vampire with a how the noises of his lips on your neck fill up the claustrophobic atmosphere. his kisses form a line directly up the middle of your neck, leaving you sensitive once they drop down to your cleavage. and suguru almost has half the mind to pull off your clothing with his teeth, choosing to suckle at the peeking skin of your breast that the sleeveless didn’t hide. “touch you hm? how much? just something like this or..” suguru’s laugh is hidden in your skin once his fingers slipped between the slit of your dress, feeling the damp spot on your panties.

the yellow blinking lights above you do no better to help your failing and swirling head. a mixture of alcohol and lust overtaking your senses— and suguru geto himself. one of his large fingers find your clit way too quick, but it’s as expected of a man who exhibits a sleek ambience of sexiness. he presses the bud through the ruined fabric, “or you want your pussy stuffed full of me. you probably haven’t been fucked good for a while— no offense there..” suguru rubs the area in tight circles, catching how your breath hitches, hands immediately latching to his button up shirt. he doesn’t care for the wrinkles, or how he can feel your nails slowly dig into the shirt, probably forming crescents into the skin underneath.

you’re just too cute.

“i’ve always admired how determined you are, such a smart girl huh? so focused on studies you don’t even have time to touch yourself. but it’s okay baby, you got me now.” you almost feel undermined, despite his words. the way he ignores your pathetic whines and whimpers with each second of his exploration around your cunt..it’s all too condescending.

“i’ll fill that cunt of yours with my fingers first, shit— you can probably only take one.” suguru’s observation is made when the pad of a finger doesn’t slip into your hole easily. your panties were forced to the side already and your cunt wet against his palm. the man kneels, sacrificing his expensive slacks to meet your darling pussy face to face. the psychologist pushes your dress up, to which you get the memo, holding the blue dress and bunching it up to your waist.

suguru holds your panties to the side again, squishing it with a single hand and his thumb kneading the skin of one of your thighs. “s’ fucking beautiful down here..” he whispers, speaking to the mess in front of him.

if only you knew how his mouth watered, drool almost coming up and his muscles fighting with each fiber of his body. he just wants to attach his mouth onto your pussy, let all of your juices and wetness fall into his mouth rather then let it uncomfortably mesh together between your thighs.

let him relieve it.

but, ever the man, suguru stays true to his words, licking his lips unconsciously and bringing a hand up to your folds. yet, unlike his usual patience and prudence, he’s quickly forcing one of his fingers into your cunt. your body jerks, “o-oh. wait! please! oh fuck..” you blabber off into a tandem, curses leaving you while his finger works its way into your virgin cunt. an abnormal feeling.

“already falling apart baby. not even moving it, c’mon, just a bit longer. we don’t want you to get dumbed out at some bar, right baby? not being in the right state of mind is dangerous..” caution is nonexistent in his tone, more-so mocking as he moves closer and lifts your left leg onto his shoulder. you know what he’s implying, his words are promises to how he’s going to break you and leave your mind a mess.

is it really sickening how you clench around his finger just from the thought? you already have him here between your legs and yet, he still keeps you on your toes with each damning word that leaves his mouth.

“let’s loosen you up a bit, or maybe you want some extra work with my tongue?” suguru tsks, unapologetically moving his finger inside you, thrusting it slowly before pulling it out completely to add another, “maybe let me spit on your sloppy pussy and treat it like a whore?” you mewl as he gives your clit a pitiful hit of his palm, then massaging it between his fingers, rolling the bud before slipping two fingers in with ease.

it’s all too much.

“i.. i don’t care, jus’ wanna cum— as long as it’s from you sugu..” you whined, looking down at him with tears filling your eyes, giving little sniffles from how his fingers nudge where you need him most, you just want to grab at him, pull at his hair as he fucks your pussy with his fingers.

suguru hisses, leaving your pussy with a kiss on your clit, “we’re getting the fuck outta here baby, not gonna fuck you here.” and as annoyed as you want to be for having to wait, you follow his words reluctantly, quickly making yourself as presentable as you possible could before he’s dragging you away.

you found yourself in multiple positions in the more comfortable sleek pink BMW— regardless of the limited space in the black interior. you continue your heated session in the stuffy backseat, ridding yourself of that bunchy dress and trying your best to get rid of his clothes before you were put in the position you’re in now.

“ride me baby, keep this pussy on my face, and don’t you dare fuckin’ hover.” suguru’s demand makes you bite your lip, crawling over on top of him and briefly resting on his now bare chest to admire him. his usual put together look was ruined by you. the best you could. perhaps the ideals he had promised to you, reflected onto him. his upper body is covered in stains of your gloss, mixed with your brown lip liner. and the cresent’s of your nails and purple hickies are only more decorative additions that stained his skin in the hours of the night.

suguru’s long hair is sprawled underneath him, undone once you had mentioned wanting to use it as leverage. and who is he to complain about your wishes?

“do you really wanna do this? you don’t have to..” your energy now is a stark contrast from before, unsettling hesitation within you as his arms wrap around your thighs, tugging you forward. a slick of your essence drags along his chest, a guttural sound escaping suguru from the warmth of it on him. “do i need to restate your words my love? i’d be happy to brag all about how you claimed to need me. especially when i can tell right now..” suguru scoffs, and you’re quickly lifted onto his face without warning, his mouth widened and is forcefully attached to your cunt.

the way he eat dines on your pussy is like a man starved. from the tight grip of his hands to the way his cock strains so uncomfortably in his pants. his tongue moves like a snake, flexing and gathering every single drop of you on it, then flicking into his mouth with a groan. suguru savored your taste each and every time, slowly rocking you onto his mouth until you were completely riding him with little cries and moans of your own, tugging his long soft strands.

your hands would fly to the handle of the back seat door, holding the black leather as you came or squirted. after so long, you never knew which it was— but you knew the man underneath you would eat it all up in mere seconds, his thirst for you never ending.

after so long, suguru had layed you back, his hands ghosting over the skin of your stomach with your legs sprawled around him. it wasn’t his ideal choice of scenery for the taking of your virginity, knowing it’s something so cherished. and of course, he’d want your first time, and your first time with him, to be more special than fucking you into the rough fabric of your back seats.

his girl is just so fucking needy.

“hah! ha— sug! um.. fuck you feel soo good!!” you nearly scream, voice breaking and your eyes rolled back.

suguru’s cock is stuffed inside your pussy, the only thing keeping him from your gummy walls was a condom around his dick. yet he hits all the right spots without hindrance, the thick member filling and molding you with each of his pounding thrusts. “yeahhh bet i do— clenchin’ around me baby, shit..” the long haired male groans, his arms are around your thighs— his favorite place obviously, not sure to keep you spread or to push your thighs up and fold you dumb.

rather, enjoy the creamy sight of your pussy around him, or fuck you how he wants to?

he chooses the latter, folding you easily and greeting you with a sloppy kiss that swallows down your moans. his thrusts are more methodical, but they have so much force, nudging your sweetest spot and leading you to cloud nine. his balls, slap against you ass loudly with each one thrust, stringed wet with your previous cum. suguru loves to feel it, the absolute mess between you.

“cum. go ahead princess, give it to me, don’t want you to hold back— not at all.” suguru encourages, pausing your wet and spit inducing make out session with a more firmer kiss on your lips. you whine, holding onto the broad escape of his shoulders, adding more scratches down to his back and clawing with each second you’re brought closer to your orgasm. “o-okay sugu.. g’nna cum..” you can barely speak, voice raspy and only getting worse with a thick hand wrapped around your neck. he really wants you gone, to let your consciousness float away and fuck you till you’re incoherent of even breathing.

at least that’s what it feels like once your eyes are rolling back, body stuttering as he fucks you through the impending feeling while a nasty glob of spit is forced down your throat which cause you to release around him suddenly. it’s too good, unable to feel anything, but feeling everything, at the same time.

youre awaken with his hot load shot out onto your stomach, tossing the soiled condom somewhere and jerking himself off to the sight of your cock-drunk state. through your blurry eyes, you see how his muscles contract and react, his head tilting back and his cock eventually giving all that’s left in little spurts. suguru’s mumbling to himself, probably things he’d say to you if he had came in your ex-virgin pussy.

“baby.. fuck.. you with me or dumbed out? seems i kept my promise, hm?” not trusting your voice, you nod obediently, closing your eyes in content as he sighs. “shit, lets get you cleaned up, then i’ll drive.” suguru grimaces, pulling you up to sit back, smiling from your whine of dissatisfaction. “m’tired sugu”

“me too sweetheart, me too,” suguru hushes, leaning into a soft kiss that only makes you want to fall asleep, sighing against his lips, “ you did so good princess, let me take care of you..”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk writing #jjk fic #jjk x black reader #jjk x chubby reader #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x plus size reader #getosuguru #geto suguru smut #getou x reader #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto smut #geto suguru x you #geto x black reader #jujutsu geto

[s1ckh1mb0]

Every once in a while I remember that free use trope and how Gojo would be an absolute slut for it. Like just the idea of you being bent over by him whenever he wants is so fucking hot to him.

You’re busy trying to set the table, bending over making your shorts rise up over the curve of your ass, catching the attention of Satoru. You don’t even hear him come behind you but you definitely do feel him. Suddenly being pinned against the table, his bulge pressing against your ass. Next thing you know he has you screaming and crying his name out as he fucks you dumb. You think you’re being loud? Satoru is wayyy worse than you. He’s whimpering and telling you how fucking good you feel.

“Ngh! Fuck baby. God can’t get enough. Can I cum in you? Please I swear it’s just this one time. Feels too good, like I’m in fucking heaven. Love this shit s-so much baby. All mine. Tell me you’re all mine, please.”

@silas-222

#fanfic #x character #x reader #spotify #x black reader #x black male reader #x male reader #x black plus size reader #x bottom male reader #smut #gojo headcanons #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #Spotify

[rubynationwins]

So You Want To Tango? Part 2 (18+)

Stepbrother! Ransom Drysdale x Virgin!PlusSize! Reader (Soft!Dark!Ransom)

Series summary: All you were trying to do was lose your v-card, was that too much to ask? Apparently so, according to your stepbrother.

Main Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Chapter Warnings: Soft!Dark!Ransom, reader is a junior in college, plus-size!reader, virgin!reader smut, non/dud-con, fingering (f receiving), swearing, ransom being an ass, choking, manhandling, degradation, slut shaming, manipulation, angst, mentions of self-deprecation/body issues, stepcest. 18+ Minors DNI. DNR if you do not like or are triggered by such topics. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 4,973

A/N: This part is a lot longer than the first, I guess that might explain why it’s taken me so long to fucking finish! But I did, woo-hoo! I also wanted to note that I've never written step-sibling stuff b4 this series so this is new territory for me. It's used more as a plot device and not as a 'kink' if that makes sense. I just wanted the kind of dynamic it creates & it works for me so whatever. (Fuck it, right?)  Like, comment, reblog, I always appreciate feedback so plz let me know what u think!

This story should not be posted anywhere else without my express permission.

(If anyone is confused about the timeline, reader arrived from college at the Drysdale residence on Friday, part 1 takes place on Sunday, and this part is about a week after part 1. Hope that helps!)

Thanks for reading!

-Ruby

It had been a week since the incident with Ransom and you had done your best to act like everything was okay, like your ex-stepbrother hadn’t shoved his tongue down your throat and threatened to take away your virginity. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as you had hoped to forget his twisted words.

“I’ll be happy to teach you how to dance like the slut you were always meant to be.”

An involuntary shudder ran down your spine at the memory of the intense heat of his body pressed against yours as he spoke those vile words into your ear. Whenever your… interaction with Ransom popped into your head, you felt a deep course of shame roll through you. Not only at how he utterly humiliated you, and not just at how he’d so easily set your nerves aflame but at how his accusations had hit you right to your core.

“When you get to be your age without having a dick shoved up your needy little hole, you open your legs up to whatever comes your way.”

You despised his misogynistic slut-shaming, but a niggling at the back of your mind said he was right. You had only agreed to Tod’s proposition because you just wanted to get it over with. You were tired of feeling excluded from your peers, tired of feeling like you weren’t mature just because you hadn’t “popped your cherry,” as some people put it. That pressure seemed to outweigh your moral sensibilities because you had given it up to the first guy to show you some interest.

You hadn’t really liked him – he was one of Ransom’s friends for fuck’s sake – but when Tod came on to you that day it felt like your only option. Taking him up on his offer for a quickie in one of the guest bedrooms hadn’t felt like all your hopes had finally been answered, it had felt like you were giving up. Giving up on a real relationship. Giving up on having sex with someone you actually cared about and who cared about you too.

You had already been regretting your decision when Ransom had burst into the room and sent everything to shit, but that wasn’t any excuse for the way he’d treated you like some hussy. He didn’t own you. He wasn’t in charge of your body, or your sex life, for that matter. You gulped when, again, you recalled what he’d said.

“I’ll show you who really owns this cunt: me.”

Fuck him and his domineering, supercilious attitude.

The more you thought about it, the more you were convinced his “promise” had just been another way to mess with you. The fact that you hardly saw him this past week seemed proof enough. He was a lazy trust fund kid who barely had a job, it’s not like he had much to do other than lay around the house whenever he wasn’t off with his friends partying and being a playboy douche. He was definitely staying away from the house, and if you had to guess you’d have a pretty clear choice as to why: you.

He was avoiding you. If given the chance, you would be doing the same, but it’s hard to avoid someone when they’re not around. His arrogant ass was probably worried you would try and take him up on his “offer” and that he’d have to back down.

Of course, you would never do such a thing, but it was clear that he viewed you as nothing more than a wanton skank who was going to throw herself at his knees, begging for him to rescue her from the woes of virginity. What a fucking joke. At least his absence saved you the constant anxiety of looking over your shoulder and jumping every time you heard a door shut, afraid he would corner you and try to make good on his word.

It was obvious now that he didn’t actually want to fuck you, it had been the heat of the moment that made his body react that way – that made yours react that way. Not to mention, he couldn’t possibly be legitimately attracted to you. It was just the forbidden thrill that riled him up.

You didn’t look like any of the women he’d ever brought home, he cycled through plenty and you recognized a certain type he preferred. A type that you had, and never would, be able to fit into –  quite literally. That realization should have relieved you, but it somehow left a sour taste in your mouth. Whatever. The thing to focus on was that Ransom couldn’t give two fucks about you and the incident had just been a little blip.

With that confirmation in mind, you could walk around the house like normal and not act like some coward. Instead, you walked around confidently while internally wrestling with the feelings and images he had implanted in your head.

Sure, Ransom was conventionally attractive, handsome even, but beneath his well-defined stature was a rotted pile of bullshit. That’s what you kept repeating to yourself when the feel of his thick fingers digging into your ass flooded your mind. You replaced the sensation of his kiss that still lingered after how many days with the reminder of how many other mouths he’d shoved his tongue into before.

You were nothing to him, had always just been a footnote in his privileged path through life. The daughter of the woman who had replaced his mom and stole from the pot of gold he had amassed as an only child. You knew he looked at you and despised everything about he saw; your parentage, your background, your lack of original wealth. You weren’t worthy in his eyes. But that didn’t matter, because you regarded him all the same. ---------------------------------- It was Saturday night. The staff had the weekend off and Richard had left for some kind of overseas trip before you had even arrived last Friday.

Once again, Ransom was nowhere to be seen – thank god – so you had the house to yourself. While it was fairly large and isolating, you didn’t mind being alone in the cavernous home. On Tuesday, your stuff had finally arrived from college, so you’d taken up the guest bedroom furthest from Ransom’s.

When you left for college two years ago, your old room had been stripped of any trace of you. It was back to a pristine grayscale guest bedroom with navy accents and overstuffed furniture. Obviously, during all those years you lived in the mansion, you’d just gotten in the way of the Drysdale aesthetic of meaningless overpriced decor and detail.

Presently, you were in the kitchen, microwaving some popcorn for the movie you’d chosen to watch that evening. The popping of the kernels was loud and quick, and soon the smell of melted butter flowed through the room. A beep sounded to alert you that your food was hot and ready, so you opened the microwave door and plucked the now-inflated bag off the turntable. You held it at the corner, careful not to burn yourself, and turned around to grab the large, metal bowl sitting on the island counter.

You jumped when you saw the figure standing in the doorway.

“Whatchya makin, sunshine?”

Startled, you dropped the bowl and it tumbled to the ground, the clattering setting off even more alarms in your head. The popcorn bag had also fallen from your grip, and yellow-tinged kernels were strewn across the floor.

Ransom stood at the entrance of the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes crinkled in amusement as he examined the scene, taking in the spilled popcorn and silver bowl still comically rolling on the ground, making a loud whooshing noise. Looking up, his wolfish eyes landed on you. He pushed off the doorjamb and stalked forward, monitoring your shocked expression from the other side of the counter. He stilled the spinning bowl with his foot, the room now filled with tense silence.

“Well, aren’t you the fucking chef, sunshine?” He made a show of once again looking at the scattered popcorn, “I don’t remember you being such a klutz.”

Your heart was still beating fast from the surprise of seeing him, but you scrunched up your face and hissed, “I’m not a klutz. You’re the creep sneaking up on unsuspecting girls and ruining their dinner. How can you be so massive and yet so silent?”

He grinned, “I’ll take that as a compliment, sunshine. Maybe I’ll take to cat burglary one of these days. But it was pretty easy to ‘sneak up’-” his fingers made air quotes around the label- “on you when you’re making such a racket in my kitchen.”

Your jaw clenched at his choice of words. He was always laying claim to things like that, making sure you knew you were just a guest; unwanted, at that. He always made it clear that this place was his and not yours. Which didn’t really bother you. You didn’t want his life.

You ignored his attempt at a dig and walked to the long cabinet in the corner of the kitchen that held cleaning supplies and grabbed a broom and dustpan. 

Ransom gave you a quizzical look as you swept up the fallen food, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? Cleaning.”

“Just let the help do that.” He actually sounded a bit baffled.

“They’re gone, it’s Saturday,” you stated bluntly as you swept the debris into a small pile.

“So? Leave it until Monday for them to take care of. That’s what they’re fucking paid to do.” His privileged tone dripped with sharp disdain.

You rolled your eyes. He was such a spoiled brat. “That’s how you get ants,” you said, secretly hoping your flippant tone would irk him. Inwardly, you were grateful for the task, though. You could focus on sweeping and not on Ransom’s intimidating form, or the memories it dredged up. “And I’m plenty capable of cleaning up my own messes. Although this was caused by you.”

Once you were certain all the popcorn was in a pile, you bent down, placing the dustpan on the ground and lightly sweeping the ruined food into it.

Ransom had been silent for a while, watching as you worked with a disapproving gaze, but when you bent forward, unknowingly sticking your ass out right at him, he changed his tune, “On second thought, you look pretty good as a maid.”

You scoffed and glanced back at him, eyes narrowed. He hid the glee that spread through him at your annoyance and pointed to a single kernel that sat right in front of his shiny brown shoes.

You stood back up and emptied the debris into the trash can hidden under the counter. “You have opposable thumbs and working limbs, why don’t you get it yourself?” 

“You’re the one who said you were perfectly capable of cleaning up your own mess,” he countered.

Heaving a sigh, you trudged up to him. You stared him dead in the eyes before crouching down and snatching up the tiny piece of popcorn. 

Your plan was to spring back up and flick it right into his stupidly good-looking face, but that was thwarted when a weighted hand pressed on your shoulder.

You looked up and Ransom’s blue eyes gleamed. “Why don’t you stay down there, sunshine? You look so perfect kneeling before me.”

A rush of heat flooded through you, but you batted his hand away, moving back slightly before standing up, successfully, this time.

“Ha. Ha. Ransom,” you tossed the last piece of popcorn into the trash as you walked over to the sink, “I know that you get some kind of sick amusement making misogynistic comments like that, but I’m not about to let your pompous ass intimidate me. Not again.” You turned your back to him and started washing your hands. The water was scalding, but you welcomed the distraction.

This time you would stand up for yourself. This time he wouldn’t catch you off guard. “So go back to whatever man-child frat party you came from and have fun with people who act just like you – drunk assholes with the mental capacity of 15-year-old boys who think being a dick is a personality tr-”

Two large, thickly veined, hands slammed down on on either side of you. They gripped the edge of the sink tightly, caging you in. You squeaked when you felt a domineering form hovering behind you. One of the powerful hands reached forward and turned off the roaring water of the faucet.

Hot breath prickled against your ear. “Looks like the little virgin’s finally got some balls,” Ransom’s low voice sounded sinister, even with his usual sarcastic bite, “I forgot how infuriating you usually are. Even though you play-act this strong, empowered, bitchy character, I know what you really are beneath all that big talk, and I miss that begging, distraught, wannabe whore.”

You flinched, feeling inside every bit as helpless as he accused you of being. You fought not to let it show, though, “Ransom, remove yourself from my personal space.” Instead of the strong, unbothered tone you were going for, your voice sounded hushed and weak.

His deep chuckle sent shivers down your spine. “Sunshine, what did I just say? Remember how the last time we saw each other, you were whoring it out in my home?” He shoved his hand between your thighs, cupping your mound. “All because this virgin cunt couldn’t last a single second more without being filled full of cock.” The heel of his palm dug into your pulsing core and your body curled forward, shocked by the sudden pressure. “I already told you that I’d give you the honor of losing that innocence to me, so I don’t see why we have to beat around the bush, so to speak.”

You clutched his hand and pried it away from your heat, not sure where you found the strength to do so. You pressed yourself against the sink, trying to leave as little room for another move like that as possible.

Instead of attempting to dive back in, Ransom rested his hand on your plush waist, squeezing tightly, “Still playing hard to get, huh? I know you want my dick inside you, sunshine.”

You shut out the millions of charged electrons shooting through you and blurted out, “Even if I wanted to have sex with you – which I absolutely do not – I don’t need some pity fuck from a two-pump chump like you. You could be the last person on Earth and I’d still rather die a virgin than let your limp little dick anywhere near me.”

Ransom stilled behind you, fully removing himself from your body. For a second you thought that was it, that he’d leave.

How foolish of you.

Strong hands gripped your hips and spun you around. Ransom dug a hand into your hair and pulled the locks tight. You felt the bite as they tugged at your scalp. Just like last time, his eyes suddenly lacked the mischievous glint that always seemed to shine in them. Instead, they were cold, sky-blue orbs. You could see a seething fire beneath his stoic face, only given away by the twitch in his left eye and the clench of his chiseled jaw.

He didn’t do anything though - not yet - he just held you there to cower before him, letting you become more and more fearful of what was spinning around in that twisted mind of his. You looked away but he shook the fist tangled in your hair, your eyes rattled in your skull as you brought them back to focus on him. 

He breathed in deeply, “Pity fuck, huh?” He used his grip on you to tilt your head back and forth, examining your frightened features, “That’s what you think I’m doing, sunshine?” You gulped. He shook you again, “Answer me!”

“W-why else would s-someone like you be interested in m-me?” You squeaked out, hating the self-deprecating words, but not knowing how else to combat his advance.

His eyebrows turned up in something you assumed was supposed to convey sympathy. “Oh sunshine, that’s real cute. You know, I thought this shy, self-conscious shit was just an act to turn me off, but you actually don’t see what you do to me?”

He brought his other hand up and stroked your chin, grazing your jaw as he traced some invisible line down your neck. “Besides, when have I ever been known to show pity?” He spat the word out like a curse as his fingernails scraped your sensitive flesh.

His look of pure fascination as he watched his hand’s descent baffled you. You pushed your thighs closer together, unsure as to why his expression sent heat rushing between them. His ghosting fingers came to a stop right over your heart and he splayed his fingers out, palm flat against your sternum. He stared at his hand as it moved up and down with the rhythm of your breaths.

“Sunshine, I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I can’t keep my eyes off of you. And even when you’re not around, you still won’t leave my fucking head. It infuriates me. That this girl that stumbled into my life, this nothing, suddenly flipped a switch in my brain. I mean, I’ve fucked plenty of chicks in my day, even went out with a lucky few, but none of them have done what you do to me.”

His other hand moved to grip your waist, kneading the soft slope. “I’ll be the first one to agree that you’re not the stereotypical type of woman I keep around, but maybe that’s just another reason every time you enter a room I lose sight of all reason.” His fingers bit into your soft flesh as his grip tightened. “I lose my fucking mind, sunshine, and it’s all your fault.” 

You didn’t know what to say. All you could do was stare at him helplessly as his hand on your chest curled up to wrap around your throat. His eyes blazed with desire as he squeezed, leaning forward so that his lips brushed yours.

The way he was acting scared you more than him cursing and berating you. That you understood, that you could fight. But this? This spelled more than a one-time thing, more than misplaced desire or hate fucking. There was a possessiveness in Ransom’s eyes that terrified you.

Even more than that, though, his actions had your mind and body in overdrive. No one had ever wanted you like this before, and the fact that it was someone with an icy heart like Ransom, made you feel almost special in some fucked up sort of way.

Everything was wrong. You needed to get out of there. You shook your head and brought a hand up to pull at his wrist. “N-no Ransom, you don’t actually like me. You just like the idea of fucking someone who’s off limits and I’m off limits for a very legitimate reason-”

His hand moved from your throat to your mouth, muffling your protests. “Sunshine, you always make it perfectly clear that we’re ex step-siblings. Besides, it’s not like we were raised up together, it’s really not that big of a deal. But you’re not wrong completely, it does make this all the more enticing - and I bet you feel the same way, too.”

His hand returned to your core, this time diving past your waistband and into your panties. You shrieked, again grasping at it in an attempt to remove the appendage. It was buried in there though, so your attempts were futile and when he ran a finger along your slit you convulsed. Your body wasn’t used to this kind of sensation. It wasn’t used to any attention like this.

His sadistic laugh echoed off the sterile kitchen walls, ringing in your burning ears. When the fingers that had been rubbing through your folds, playing with the embarrassing amount of slick, moved to your clit, you lost touch with reality. The sodden digits working over your coursing bundle of nerves in rough circles was sending shocks through your system.

You cried out at the sparks and Ransom grinned. “That’s right Sunshine,” His fingers plunged into your drenched pussy as his palm ground into your clit. “Only I can make you feel this way.” You quivered against his touch, already feeling the pull of your orgasm. “You think any 20-something college shithead is gonna touch you like I do or make you cum like I’m about to?” 

You pressed your eyes closed, trying to drown out his words and focus on the magic happening between your thighs. You tried to imagine it was anyone but Ransom touching you. He grasped the side of your face, turning you to look at him.

He jostled your eyes open again and you gasped at the intensity in his darkened eyes, the pupils overshadowed any of the icy blue they usually held. “Answer me.” His grip was bruising and pulled your focus from his relentless toying underneath.

You gulped, not wanting to say the words, but the need for release beat out your pride in the end, “N-no, Ransom, only you.” The words felt heavy on your tongue but your mind was clouded with electric sparks as he curled his fingers up into your g-spot.

A garbled cry fell from your lips at the new pressure and Ransom swallowed it with his mouth as he lunged forward, arresting your moans with his own as you locked lips. His teeth bit into your lower lip until they broke skin, the slight tang of blood mixed with spit as he dragged it into your mouth, caressing your tongue with his own as he growled at the taste and feel of you. 

His fingers followed the motions of his tongue as they both explored all that you had to offer. His hand dropped from your face and moved down, roaming over the expanses of your skin. He pressed it against the soft curve of your belly, and you made a disapproving sound, your hand coming up to pull his away from the parts of you that you didn’t want anyone to know about, nonetheless touch. He growled a warning and batted your hand away.

“Mine,” he grumbled into the harsh kiss and continued to run his large, warm hand over you, over all of you. He took his time to squeeze and caress every part of you that you always hid away as if to force you to acknowledge that the feeling of his heated palm and deft fingers actually felt incredible. It made you feel desired in a way you hadn’t before, a way that made your knees weak.

His long fingers were pumping in and out of your aching pussy, the squelching sound that filled the room made you both ashamed and turned on. Your breath hitched when he focused back on your clit again, his fore and middle fingers dancing around it as you started to shake in his strong embrace. You felt lightheaded as Ransom dragged you to the edge, your feet scrambling for purchase because you didn’t know what was going to happen when you inevitably came. You had never experienced such a crushing, overbearing tension in your abdomen before, the pressure made your body tense like you were a live wire about to spring.

Ransom buried his fingers in your pussy again as his other hand ceased its exploration of your generous curves and came to join it at the apex of your thighs. He settled his fingers on your bundle of nerves and once more began his blissful torment. He worked his hands independently as one pistoned into you over and over at an agonizing speed and perfect angle and the other attacked your clit. His endless teasing was pure torture as he rubbed the pulsing nub, not letting you build on a simple incline but bringing you up and down over and over as he kept switching between determined, heavy pressure and feather-light touch.

His mouth was still devouring yours. It was like he was taking control of your entire being, working your body in a way that only he knew how, removing your autonomy from the equation. He was showing you that he was the only person who could bring this kind of soaring pleasure to you, not even your own hands could do what he was doing. It was as if he was inside your brain and knew just how to light up every one of your nerve endings.

He wrenched his lips away and you let out a lewd cry as he ran his teeth down your exposed neck, nipping and slurping as he went. Your hopes that he wouldn’t leave a visible mark vanished when his teeth bit into your pulse point and he sucked. You had always found hickeys to be vulgar and unnecessary, but the sound and heat made your knees weak. 

Your voice was a mix of unintelligible sounds and a tumble of expletives and even Ransom’s name. Every time his name spilled from your lips, he pressed into you even further, which seemed impossible at that point.

He finally stuck with grinding his fingers against your clit fully as he added another thick digit to the two that were already thrusting in and out of your quaking pussy. He’d been keeping you at the crest of your peak for who knows how long. All you knew is you would say anything - do anything - for him to make you cum right now, and that sentiment played across your lips in a garble of wanton pleas.

He must have been able to decipher the mumble of your slurred words because he stilled. You whined, your hips bucking up, but he stilled you with a flat palm to your abdomen. A low laugh brushed across your collarbone as he licked his way back up to your ear. His hot breath sent tingles along your spine as he whispered, “You better remember that promise, Sunshine. Begging for an orgasm like the little cockwhore I always knew you were. My little cockwhore,”

You couldn’t combat his claims, heat flamed across your face at his cutting words. They felt true at that very moment, even though the part of you that detested him screamed at you to deny him. “But, who am I to resist when you beg so nice and pretty for me? Go ahead, I’ll give a fucking slut just what she wants, Sunshine. Give my pussy what she needs.”

With that, his fingers thrusted back into your hole, curling up as his other hand’s fingers practically vibrated against your aching clit. 

You screamed as your orgasm overtook you, it blasted through your body in a strike of lightning that shook your bones and boiled your blood. There was nothing else there as the world collapsed around you, you couldn’t even hear the satisfied laughter of Ransom as you drifted through a fucked-out abyss.

Your legs fell out from under you and Ransom pulled you closer, grinding his hard-on into you, groaning into your ear. In the back of your mind, you knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help the muffled, “Thank you, Ransom” that flew from your mouth as his fingers worked you through your peak.

It felt like hours before you finally came down from your high, Ransom’s hand still buried between your thick thighs. He couldn’t remove it if he wanted to, not with how tightly you clenched around it. His free hand came up and brushed away the hair sticking to your sweaty brow, gazing at your still panting form.

He gripped the back of your neck and yanked you into another searing kiss before he bent down to your neck again and bit into the mark he’d already made, sucking even harder to make sure the bruise would last. “Mine,” his low voice grumbled, as he lapped at the mark.

He licked his way up to your ear before he spoke in a clear voice, breaking you from your reverie, “Gotta run, sunshine-” he managed to finally pull his hand from between your still trembling thighs. He wiped his drenched fingers on your shirt, staining it with your essence- “don’t get me wrong, I’d love to stay and continue the fun, but I’ve got a date with a hot piece of ass from my gym named Vanessa.” He spoke the name like it dripped molten gold.

For some reason, your heart sank to your stomach at his words.

He fully removed himself from you, straightening out his tight fitting, thin, sweater and rolling down his sleeves. His eyes raked over the messy, cockdumb state he’d put you in, a self-satisfied smirk played at his lips.

He checked his watch before he continued his cutting speech, “I’m already running late, not that she’ll mind though, it is me, after all.” He palmed his cock, shifting it in his straining pants. “Might have to skip dinner and head right to dessert, if you know what I mean,” he winked at you as he sauntered out of the kitchen.

Before he turned the corner, he paused, glancing back at you with fire in his eyes. “I’ll see you around, sunshine. You’re gonna have to return the favor, after all.”

With that, he exited your vision, the sound of his measured steps echoed off the hallway walls and rang in your head as you sunk down to the floor. Tears ran down your cheeks, unbidden by you, and you let out a shaky cry as you were once again left to wallow in guilt and shame and insatiable desire by Ransom fucking Drysdale.

#ransom drysdale #stepbro!ransom drysdale #soft!dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x plus size reader #mean!ransom drysdale #stepbro!ransom drysdale x reader #stepbrother!ransom drysdale #tw stepcest #soft!dark!ransom drysdale x plus size reader #ransom drysdale smut #virgin!reader #plus size reader #plus-size!reader #plus size reader insert #chris evans character fanfic #Chris Evans #chris evans x plus size reader #Knives Out #ransom knives out #my writing #me #rubynationwins #dark fic #no y/n

[shaisuki]

“c'mere megumi. i know you're tired.”

gojo calls out to him but the boy ignores him and continued to walk.

“he won't satoru. you traumatized him.” you quipped at him.

teleportation is fun and all but not to a fourth-grader megumi who got almost dropped mid-air from the teleportation skill gojo have, only to catch him mid-air before he truly drops.

“i catched him before he fell.” the white-haired male pouts.

“catched him before he fell?” scoffing at him. “he's a child, satoru. think before you do something to him. you almost endangered him with your antics and you can't do whatever you please when you want. you're an ass and you know it.” you spat at him and gojo pouts and he's like a child kneeling down while being scolded.

you crouched down to meet the height of megumi. patting his head and you began to speak in a soft voice. “i'll carry you, okay? i promise no funny business.” drawing a cross in your chest to convince megumi. the poor child is sleepy and fighting the urge to not sleep caused by the earlier wrongdoing of an pre-adult.

deciding to trust you, megumi comes closer to you and puts his arms around your neck before carrying his small body in front of you. your arms tucked under his thighs and it turns to snuggle you. his jaw in your shoulder.

megumi blankly stares at the adult behind you. immature, he thought but his eyes are getting heavy and sleep is calling to him. before his eyes closed he reminds himself not to be carried by that weird man.

it took a few seconds before the child snuggling in you fell asleep. you can tell from the lack of movements of his body and the small snores. patting his back before continuing to walk.

gojo followed you. he felt bad and it was like a punch to him in the gut when you scold him but he likes it. loves it when your cheeks puff and your eyes rolling at him in annoyance.

stopping at a bakery to get a few sweets to satisfy his sweet tooth and for the siblings to eat back home. you continued to walk, enjoying the little peace and quiet before a old lady approached at you three.

“oh my! what a cute family.” the old lady commented and your eye twitched at the comment. giving the lady a smile before briefly bowing.

taken a back at the sudden statement before gojo burst out in a laughter. “she called us a family, (y/n).”

“ha-ha-ha. funny.” you dryly responds to him and adjusting your arm to make megumi comfortably settle in you. the child is completely passed out in your grasp and you can't help but to kiss megumi's wild hair in which megumi groans before going back to sleep.

“aww, come on. i didn't mean it, okay?” gojo whines, blocking your way as he walked backwards to meant he really is sorry.

“okay.” you replied back to him. “just don't do it again.”

“okay!” he beams up and once again silence filled in the long way of walking.

dusk is beginning to settle down and the sky turns into orange. the sunlight giving it's final rays before the night falls.

“kind of you to take them both, satoru.” you break the silence and gojo hums. thinking about something.

despite gojo's stubbornness and his lack of tact in things, you like that he's willing to help the children to have a roof over their head and spoiled them like it's his own. even preventing megumi to be taken away from his clan and let him have a normal childhood with his sister.

“say, (y/n). what if we adopt them both?” gojo asks you.

“we? and adopt?” gojo nods. waiting for your answer. “i think it's fine. these two will have two guardians to look them over if the other one's not around and in case something's happen to one of us.”

“don't say that, (y/n).”

you raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.

“it's inevitable, satoru. in this line of work we have.” you said to him. referring how dangerous the jujutsu society is and you'll never know what the future may hold.

“i'll protect you. us”" his bright blue eyes peeking through his dark glasses with sincerity. looking at you and megumi sleeping in your arms.

“satoru....” you call him and his eyes full of sincerity.

“that's nice, satoru.” you smile at him but the expression in his face is anticipating something more.

“i know you will, satoru.” and he grins. pressing a tender kiss in your forehead and patting megumi's head. “stop that, sato. you'll wake him up and don't get too sappy with me. it's not you.” he pouts at that but kisses you again.

he can't wait to be with you forever.

#꩜ ⋮ shai's thirst/drabbles⸝⸝ #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x chubby reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #jjk megumi #child megumi #x reader

[fatecantstopme]

Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

Loved this fic? Support my work by buying me a coffee 💜

#supernatural #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfic #supernatural smut

[imaginedreamwrite]

First of all thanks for cliche Tuesday. I love watching cliches, not all the time, only when they are executed beautifully, which is the least of my worries here, you would do it damn fantastically. Also, I am kind of confused while writing which cliche do I exactly want between rich/poor and bad boy/ good girl. So maybe a balance of both, with Colin/Hayden/Ari ( I am leaving the pairing decision on you, just these three seemed good for it). Also if it’s not a problem with you could the reader be plus-sized? have a great day and thanks in advance for answering the ask

“With a dress like that, you like a real woman-” His gruff statement is cut short when your hand slams into his chest, a cheap blow before you smooth your hands down the front of your dress.

“And you’re still a horses’ ass.” You hissed at Colin, aggressively shooting him a hasty glare. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I am funny,” he grins and looks you over, his blue eyes familiarizing themselves with the cut of your form in your gown, “are you vying for the prince?”

“He’s searching for a bride, not an ox.” You snidely degrades yourself, wincing when he pinched your arm. “Besides, why have a prince when I have an ass to take care of?”

“You’re beautiful,” Colin chided you, and then exhaled slowly, “Blue-bird I have to tell you something.”

“You think I look good?” You pondered, adjusting the cut of your dress as best as possible in an attempt to hide the bumps and curves you weren’t always so proud of.

You weren’t a delicate fairy nor a graceful ballerina. You were a woman with an overabundance of curves, heavier breasts and an ass that couldn’t always be hidden by the layers of your dress.

“The prince is going to choose a bride! This is so exciting, Colin!” You beamed and grabbed his arm, trying to see over the crowds forming as the King stepped into view.

“No one’s seen the prince in 23 years.” Colin drew in a shaky breath and slowly turned to face you. “He isn’t supposed to appear until he finds a bride.”

“Its exciting-“ your arms were grasped and your best friend that you’d ran through the village with for years upon years, bent down on one knee.

“My sweet little blue-bird,” Colin swallowed heavily, “will you marry me? Become my princess?”

#prince in disguise #hidden prince #plus sized reader #plus size!reader drabble #plus-size!Reader #prince!Colin Shea #rich/poor cliche #hidden prince cliche

[sageworld]

rafe cameron p!links

riding frat!rafe in his dorm after a party

bestfriend rafe sucking your tits for fun

rafe eating you out

riding rafe in his truck after a fight

backshots with rafe

rafe playing with sarah’s best friends pussy while she’s in the store

rafe fucking sorority reader outside a party

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #jj maybank imagines #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x plus size reader #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #jj maybank smut #john b smut #kiara carrera #obx icons #outer banks #sarah cameron #topper thornton x reader #obx season 2 #pope hayward

[lxvvie]

fuck nasty!Ghost who shows you how much he misses you.

You were out running errands, leaving Simon, home from his latest deployment, to his own devices. All was going well—so you thought—until you heard the telltale ping of your phone and saw that he had texted you.

Simon probably needed you to pick something up for him on the way home. Mm. Doable. You opened the text under that innocent assumption.

And you know what they say about making assumptions.

Because right there in front of your very eyes was a picture of underwear. Your underwear. Your favorite pair of underwear. Your favorite pair of underwear you'd been searching for while you were getting dressed this morning.

They were covered in cum. Simon's cum.

You receive another text not even a second later: Miss you, sweetheart.

It was a miracle you didn't drop your phone.

#this is in response to the anon who sent me the ask about ghost and the underwear. #I had deleted the wrong ask by accident. I'm so sorry! #nsfw. #fuck nasty!ghost #call of duty modern whorefare. #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #x poc reader #x black reader #x plus size reader #task force 141

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡What I Cannot Give You｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

After sleeping with your boyfriend for the second time, you find out that he’s never cum with you- but his ex says that he always did with her

Warnings: smut, angst, insecurities, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, inability to finish (on Steve’s end), ooc!Sharon, mentions of diets, comfort

WC: 2.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Alright, what’s going on?” Numbly, you looked up from your cold cup of tea to meet the piercing green eyes of your best friend. Natasha was almost glaring at you as she stood with her hands on her slim hips, quite obviously having been watching you for some time.

You swallowed thickly. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” Her scowl deepened.

“That’s not what I asked now was it?” Your stomach flipped and you squeezed the teacup even tighter. “But now that you’ve said that, what’s wrong? And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know.” 

You should’ve known that Nat would spot your unease from a mile away, you should’ve just stayed in your room. But the need for food and a distraction from your thoughts had been too great of a temptation. Your vision blurred with tears as you pitifully shook your head. 

Suddenly, all the exasperation was gone from her expression and she was kneeling before you, one hand on your knee, the other on the arm of the couch. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” You whimpered loudly, now unable to stop the onslaught of emotions.

“It- it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” With a free hand, you furiously wiped away the fat tears that were now rolling down your full cheeks. Natasha sighed heavily and pulled the cup from you, placing it on the coffee table behind her.

“Was it that commercial about the cat and the raccoon again?” She teased though her tone still held some strain of wariness. 

“No.” You groaned tearfully, making Nat smile warmly at you.

“Then it can’t be so bad can it?” Moving gracefully, she plopped down on the couch cushion next to you, taking your shaking hands into her steady ones. “Did something happen with Steve?” The watery look you gave her in return was all the answer she needed.

“Stevie!” You cried, your head tossed back in pleasure. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it was everything. The man above you groaned as you tightened around him once more, practically strangling his cock with the force of your orgasm.

Your nails scraped down his muscular back, leaving behind bright red lines that would disappear before dawn even broke the horizon. “Feels so good!” Your sobs echoed through the room along with the wet slapping of skin as his hips met yours.

Blonde hair brushed against your nose as Steve buried his face into your neck, lathering your burning skin with even hotter kisses. “That’s it doll, one more time for me please.” And as the fat head of his cock hit that spongy bundle of nerves inside you, you obliged him. Though less powerful than your previous three, your soft body still tensed with ecstasy and your mind went hazy.

“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve muttered softly, laying one last gentle peck to your shoulder before he pulled himself away from you. “Did you have a good time?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I can’t feel anything below my hips, does that answer your question?” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Alright, no need to be smart about it.” As gently as he could manage, Steve sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness of your cunt and the soreness that came along from having his massively thick length inside of you.

But there was no other sensation after that, no telltale feeling of cum inside of you or drying on your thick thighs. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at your boyfriend. “Did you finish?” The question came out more shaky than you intended but Steve seemingly didn’t notice.

“No but you did and that’s all that matters.” He dismissed as he stood up from the mattress. You sat up on your elbows, not done with the conversation just yet.

“That’s the second time it’s happened and we’ve only had sex twice.” You pointed out but Steve just sighed.

“It’s fine, it happens sometimes. I’m just happy that you felt good. That’s more than enough for me. Now stay there so I can clean you up.” And as he walked to the attached bathroom, your heart sank and a pit began to grow in your stomach.

“Stevie.” You started but quickly stopped as his blue eyes bore into you. Rage oozed from them like lava, stunning you into silence.

“That’s enough. I told you it’s fine, I won’t be having this conversation again.” With tensed shoulders and clenched fists, he left the room leaving you lost and feeling far more empty than ever before.

“Okay so he didn’t finish but you did. I see no problem with that, it would be the opposite for most guys.” Nat shrugged, a lean arm around your shoulders as she continued to comfort you despite her apparently dismissal of the whole thing.

You huffed, now more frustrated than distraught. “That’s not the point.” You tried to yank away but she held strong, easily pinning you back down onto the couch.

“Then what is?” She implored.

“That I’m not enough for him!” You cried. “That I’m not pretty enough or good enough in bed to even get him to cum! There has to be something wrong with me and he’ll figure that out soon enough and leave me.” Fear and sadness filled your heart as you spilled out your deepest fears to your best friend who was now stunned unto silence.

“He’ll find someone better, just like everyone else did.” You bit down on your lip as more tears rose to the surface. 

“Pcholka-“ She started but was quickly interrupted by another person strutting into the communal living area.

Sharon Carter, the very personification of everything that you wished you could be, was smirking devilishly as she strolled past you and Natasha, apparently heading for the kitchen. You held your breath as she gracefully walked by, her high heels (which weren’t needed for her job) clacked against the expensive flooring. 

“Don’t mind me ladies, just getting myself a protein shake. This new diet is a killer I tell ya but it’s so worth it.” Her smirk made you shrink into yourself but Natasha’s firm grip kept you from escaping. 

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Sharon flitted about the kitchen. Until she finally began her walk back out. You breathed a sigh of relief as she passed by the couch once more but right as she reached the door frame, she turned back and made eye-contact with you.

“Oh Steve always finished with me.” Your eyes went wide with shock. Sure there had been rumours that your boyfriend and the CIA agent had been involved but nothing more ever came out of it so you always just dismissed it as office gossip, until now. “Every. Time.” She said, rubbing even more salt in your already wounded ego.

“No one fucking asked you Sharon. In fact, why are you even here, weren’t you reassigned because of your fuckup in Bosnia?” Natasha snarled, her eyes narrowing on the other agent. She twisted her body around, giving you the opportunity to rip from her grasp and make a run for it.

Nat called out your name but all you could focus on was the way that Sharon smirked at you, her bright eyes alight with an evil plan and you wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it play out, not when you knew that she would be successful.

——————

Being the completely understanding and perfect boyfriend he was, Steve could be easily avoided with a simple text that you weren’t feeling well and needed some alone time. He would always ask if you needed anything and you could tell that he was curious as to why you weren’t letting him come take care of you but he respected you too much to pry any deeper.

Natasha hadn’t been so easy to avoid but your stubbornness won out over hers so she had left you alone, just like you wanted. It was easier being alone with your thoughts than having her try to convince you that what you were feeling was stupid and a total misunderstanding.

Groaning, you threw your phone across the bed. The screen was still bright with the Cosmopolitan article about ’10 Tips and Tricks to Make Him Go Crazy For You’, all of which seemed very expensive in the case of toys and lingerie or positions that you were not nearly flexible enough to pull off.

Maybe it was hopeless, you already knew that you weren’t good enough for him so what did it matter if you couldn’t get him off. You were barely even together in the first place, it wasn’t as if you were already in love with him and breaking up would devastate you.

You rolled over onto your side and curled into the pillow that miraculously still smelt like him, squeezing it tightly to your chest. This feeling was familiar, the drop of your stomach, the stutter of your heart like you were at the precipice of a cliff and unable to stop moving forward. 

And all you could think about was the disgust and the anger in Steve’s eyes that night. It was like in that moment he also figured out how one-sided the relationship was and he hated you for it.

“Doll, I know you’re in there.” Your body snapped up, your muscles pulled taut with anxiety. “You don’t have to open the door, I just want to know if you’re ok. Nat said you were having a tough time.” 

“I’m fine Steve, just having a moment.” You tried to dismiss but the dry crack of your voice had him opening your door and slipping inside. 

In the dim light of your bedroom, Steve’s figure was imposing, his sheer size creating a void in the space. Your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as he gently shut the door behind him. “You only ever call me Steve when something’s wrong.” His steps were featherlight as he cautiously crept closer.

“Steve-“ 

“See, there it is again. I’m your Stevie not Steve.” He whined playfully, making a ghost of a smile dance across your lips. The mattress dipped under the weight of one of his hands as he planted it by your wide hips, giving you enough space to be respectful but close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your pyjamas.

He leaned closer as if going in for a kiss but you stopped him with a hand to his strong chest. He paused for barely a second before he pulled your hand away and brought it up to his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your eyes dropped to your lap, you could guess what was coming next. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I just think we’re better off as friends’. But instead of the breakup you thought was going to happen, Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your gaze back to him.

“Is this about the other night? I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.” He tutted as his thumb gently caressed your jaw. You hesitated nuzzling into his touch, still too hurt to want that comfort.

“But why would you even be with me if I can’t make you feel good?” As soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. Steve’s expression turned stormy and suddenly, his grip became tighter until your jaw ached from the force of it.

You could see the way the vein in his neck twitched as an angry flush crawled up his cheeks. You knew he wanted to yell, to lash out at you but he quickly swallowed down his anger, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.

“You do make me feel good. You make me feel amazing, both in and out of the bedroom. You’re gorgeous doll, and smart and funny and caring. I’m with you because of that, not because I want to just get off. I get pleasure from your pleasure.” He cooed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own.

His breath fanned across your lips as his other hand finally cupped your hip beneath your oversized shirt. “Sharon told me that you always finished with her.” You whispered, your fingers curling into the compression shirt he wore.

His pecs rippled with your touch, his heartbeat strong beneath your palms. “I can’t cum, doll. Or at least I can’t anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued.

“I don’t think I’ve cum since before the serum.” His voice was soft, ashamed. His broad shoulders dropped as he finally admitted the truth. “It did something to me that no one has been able to figure out yet but we’re getting closer.”

“But Sharon-“

“I faked it with her. Every time.” At your puzzled expression, Steve smiled softly. “I always wore condoms so she couldn’t tell and besides, it was only a couple times before you were even around. I haven’t thought about her since the moment you walked into the tower on your first day.”

Only now did you melt into his hold, letting him pull you closer as he endeavoured to comfort you. “You’re all I want, all I need. I promise.” 

“Really?” You whispered, your lips drawing closer to his. The corners of his eyes scrunched as he smiled back at you.

“Really. As long as you don’t mind that I can’t fill you up with my cum, mark you from the inside out.” He growled playfully. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the dirty talk, your mind now filled with images of just that.

“Stevie!” You yelped but was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he held you tighter, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate.

“That’s my good girl.” 

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