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#and she’s scared she won’t get into college
patchodraws · 4 months
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uh oh guys, it’s bad (has come up with a new paper girls fic idea)
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koqabear · 22 days
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For the 2k event I would love to see football player!taehyun x cheerleader! Y/N and idc what the scenario is I would just love to see some spicy smut 🥵🥵 thank you!
[2K Masterlist]
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"How not to scare off the stupid flirt that won’t leave you alone."
football player!Taehyun x fem!cheerleader!reader // wc: 5.7K // genre: college au, one-sided enemies to lovers, smut, MDNI.
warnings: i glanced over it does that count as a proof read, slight himbo tyun, (?!) mans a munch, switchy/kinda sub leaning service top! tyun (!!!?), switchy/dom leaning! mc, strength kink, degrading, praise, oral (f. rec.), dry humping, hair pulling, begging, bondage, creampies, overstimulation, lmk if i should add anything!
notes: went just a bit overboard rawr
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Taehyun— star player of the football team, a total womanizer and flirt— has taken an interest in you. 
It was only a matter of time before he set his sights on you, wasn’t it? The cute cheerleader who was nothing short of energetic and endearing, waving your pom poms excitedly and sporting a bright smile on your face that never ceased at every game— you were easily the smartest person there, given a full-ride scholarship and spending your weekdays cooped up in the library studying, a complete switch from the preppy persona you put on display for the students and families in the bleachers, never giving anyone the time of day and focusing solely on your studies— in short, you were entirely unattainable.
Which only served to entice Taehyun more.
You never gave in to any of Taehyun’s advances— every wave, greeting, or call of your name was strictly ignored; any attempts to be friendly with you were thrown straight into the gutter by a single glare of yours, and Taehyun found himself lucky on the days you would even look at him willingly. 
Of course, your withering glares and upturned nose as you walked away from every approach would have any sane person tucking their tail and giving up immediately— but Taehyun wasn’t just anyone, and he found that it was quite fun to try and rile you up whenever he saw you— in and out of uniform— and it made his friends wonder if he was simply a masochist. 
“Dude, she looks like she’s ready to blow you up with her mind every time she sees you,” Yeonjun told him once, recounting the way you sneered at Taehyun the moment he tried to interact with you after the game, yet another successful win under their belts, “you mean to tell me you’re into that?”
Taehyun never bothered to deny such accusations; why would he, when he felt himself smile a little wider every time you told him to get lost, or would feel himself eager to chase after you when you would simply turn on your heel and walk the opposite direction whenever you made eye-contact with him? And if he spent nights staying up and thinking about the way your bright smile lit up the stadium and the bow on your head would bounce cutely with each stunt you performed, that was no one else’s business but his own. 
To Taehyun, you were the most refreshing part of every game; to you, Kang Taehyun was a stupid tick you just couldn’t get rid of. 
All charming smiles and smooth flirty lines— you were warned of him by your team, you knew that he was nothing but trouble the moment the rumors of his reputation started swimming around from ear to ear— a cocky D1 athlete that couldn’t stick to a single girl for more than a few days. 
So how is it possible that he’s still bothering you? He’s been after you since the season started, following you around dumbly and trying to get you to cave with even dumber lines you know he’s used on other girls. You never even bothered to bat an eye at him— you’ve never spoken to him past a snide remark telling him to get lost; you’ve shown negative interest in him, but even so, you still catch him staring at you with stars in his eyes. 
“Hey,” Taehyun says, managing to catch you after the home game has ended; still in your full face of makeup, so tired that you haven’t even bothered to change out of your uniform yet— you sneer on instinct, turning on your heel and walking the opposite way you were heading, even if it meant taking the farther exit— but Taehyun simply runs after you, not fazed in the slightest at your behavior, “Great game today, right? You guys were awesome. Your routines were super cool.”
“They’re the same ones we’ve been doing for a while now.” you comment dryly, tugging your duffle bag’s strap over your shoulder more; Oh, you can hear Taehyun mumble softly— you wonder if this is the moment he decides it's no longer worth it to pursue you. But again— things are never that simple for you. 
“Still, I just never get tired of watching you.”
You falter; Taehyun senses it, just like you sense his searing gaze on your face. 
“You’re not supposed to be watching me,” is all you’re able to say, albeit softly, a lot weaker than your usual dismissive tone.
“I know,” Taehyun hums softly, tilting his head as he continues to watch you, analyzing your expression acutely, “it’s just hard not to.”
Alright, you find yourself thinking, coming to a complete halt the moment you feel your heart fluttering hopelessly, this has to stop.
“Wow. Smooth,” you say apathetically, pursing your lips in distaste and observing the man before you— his relaxed, cocky demeanor, the lazy smile that pulls at his lips, his head that tilts curiously, grown out hair covering his eyes and hiding what he might be thinking— and you scoff, voice dripping with distaste as you continue, “how many girls has that line worked on already?” 
“None. One, maybe,” Taehyun quickly says, taking a step closer to you, until you’re able to smell him, the natural musk mixed with the fading scent of his cologne, “if she decides to give me a chance.” 
Your lips press together, your face unimpressed; he raises a brow at you, as though asking for an answer— swiftly, you roll your eyes and ignore his silent queues. 
“Not happening.” you’re turning around again, your pace must faster now, “go bother someone else who’s willing to be part of your roster.”
“I don’t want someone else,” Taehyun groans, jogging after you and placing himself in front of you, just so you’ll actually give him the time of day, “I just want you.”
“Oh really?” you laugh mockingly, entirely unconvinced by this act he seems to be putting up, “So if I fuck you, will you finally stop throwing a tantrum over something you can’t have?” 
He’s stunned; with hands on your hips, you step closer to him, getting up in his face as you continue to taunt him. 
“Are you gonna get bored and dump me after? Hmm?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a step back— Taehyun remains bewildered. “You’re probably not even worth it, actually.”
Just like he did earlier, you raise a brow; mocking him, waiting for him to respond as you tap your foot impatiently— instead, he remains silent, eyes scanning your face, as though waiting for you to say something else— you roll your eyes and shake your head, more than ready to push past him and finally go shower in the comfort of your own apartment. 
Your shoulder almost pushes against Taehyun’s body as you go to leave— but you’re stopped in your tracks before you can get the last say, a strong grip on your bicep keeping you still and turning your body around roughly— your duffle bag swings and the strap falls down your arm at the action.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Taehyun says, leering down at you with dark eyes— he’s irritated, teeth gritted and brows knitted together as he speaks.
“Awh, is your ego wounded now?” you ask, pouting and batting your eyes at him, feeling his fingers dig into your skin as a result, “does it hurt your big macho pride to get rejected?”
Taehyun doesn’t say anything to that— his eyes seem to do the talking for him, narrowed dangerously at you, but even so, you still don’t care to take the hint. 
“Or— don’t tell me,” you make a point to lower your voice to a whisper, looking around skeptically for anyone else that could hear— but, the stadium was empty at this point, “did I hit too close to home? Oh no, are you that bad of a fuck?”
Taehyun’s jaw is clenched; he takes one look at your pouting, pitied face, at his fingertips that dig into the muscle of your bicep, and inhales slowly— and with one last glance around the area, he turns away and begins to roughly tug you along. 
“Woah— hey– hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing—?!” 
You’re yelling and bitching at him, slapping at his shoulder and calling him names he could never come up with himself— and yet, you stumble along, refusing to take your arm out of his loosening grip— your actions speak louder than your (abrasive yet creative, Taehyun will admit) words; you’re curious, and Taehyun can already picture the look on your face the moment he finally brings the two of you into the empty locker room he previously raced out of just to look for you.
“What the hell man?” you yell, allowing yourself to be tugged further into the room, straight to a secluded corner that you immediately get backed up in; his hands are on your shoulders as he presses you firmly against the metal lockers, your back arching to get away from the uncomfortable feeling— he’s got you caged in with his body, unable to do anything more than press your hands against his chest in an attempt to keep your distance. You reluctantly take note of how firm his muscles feel. 
“What’s your deal?” you roll your eyes, noticing that he has yet to explain himself, resorting to glaring down at you with his stupid, big brown eyes, “Is this all you can do? Don’t know how to use your big boy words so you resort to force instead?”
“I should be asking you the same thing,” he suddenly says, his voice quiet and restrained as he eyes you carefully; your eyes widen, as though you weren’t actually expecting him to say anything, “all that talk for someone that doesn’t wanna be here.”
Your body heats up instantly at his words; you feel like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes, trying to find your rebuttal yet faltering under the heat of his gaze— he looks pissed, as though he’ll pounce on you the moment you say something wrong. 
“I don’t,” you finally say, the words not as confident as you wish they were, “you were the one that dragged me here.”
“Really?” he asks, raising a brow at the way you scoff and glare at him, standing your ground even if you both know you’re lying; his hands fall from your shoulders and he takes a step back, watching as you simply remain there, shocked. 
“Then leave.”
The look on his face is much too smug for your liking. He crosses his arms and smirks, taking another step back and nodding to the other side of the room, telling you that “the exit’s over there.”
You take a step forward, only to hesitate. Your eyes narrow at the sight of him, deep in thought before you finally kiss your teeth in distaste.
“God, you’re so fucking insufferable.”
Taehyun doesn’t get a chance to say anything to that because you’re all but leaping onto him after— you’re taking hastes steps to him and your hand reaches out for his nape, digging into his hair before pulling him in towards you for a kiss; to say he was expecting this would be a lie, but he’s more than prepared to melt into you anyway.
You’re nothing like the sweet and innocent persona you put up for the stadium; you’re insatiable, kissing Taehyun like you were starving, a hand reaching up to place itself on his chest, the feeling welcomed until he realizes something— you’re pushing him back, and before he knows it, he’s the one slamming back into the lockers.
His hand falls onto your hip, the other coming up to cup your jaw; his fingers wander endlessly, going from the pleats of your skirt to the elastic waistband, sly fingertips sneaking beneath before he’s pulling away and reaching down to cup your ass— he’s groaning into your mouth at the feeling, your teeth sinking in retaliation to him groping you like a bitch in heat. 
Taehyun’s mind is racing a million miles a minute; he never actually thought he’d get here, but now that he did, he’s found himself to be feeling ridiculously antsy— he wants to feel you, take his time to memorize every detail of you, but he also wants to perform ever fantasy he’s ever had about you, bad. 
And if he thinks he’s good at masking his desperation from you, he’s wrong. Very, very wrong. You could feel it from the way he kissed you back to the way his dick hardened in what you think is record time, his motions growing hasty as he couldn’t stop feeling you up, as though he’d die if he didn’t go from venturing up your shirt to grabbing at your ass, going back and forth and fucking up your balance completely— at this point, Taehyun was only left against the lockers because you were full on leaning on him.
When you pull away from the kiss, lips swollen and entirely out of breath, Taehyun chases after you; his eyes are low lidded and dazed as he looks at you, confused on why you look at him as though you’ll start laughing any second now. 
“Where’s that smooth guy from earlier?” you taunt, punctuating your words by pressing yourself firmly against him, listening to the quiet hiss you get in return, “you almost made me think that your reputation was actually true.”
God, he’s so predictable. You can barely hold back the smile that tugs at your lips, watching Taehyun’s reaction intently; it was like a light finally turned on in his head, glassed over eyes finally becoming conscious as he blinks at you, words registering in his head and grip slowly become harsher; his hand falls from your face and down to the small of your back, pulling you close and raising a confused brow at you. 
“What reputation?” he asks, the faux innocence making you roll your eyes.
“Oh y’know, just some girls saying shit. That you fuck the living daylights out of them, or whatever,” your hand that was braced against his chest trails up, fingertips going to the underside of his chin to flick his head up playfully— his eyes are pinned on you the entire time, and you giggle mockingly. “But all I see here is a horny teen that gets hard over a little bit of kissing.”
You’re baiting him— it’s so obvious and you both know it, but that doesn’t stop Taehyun from biting the said bait shamelessly, dark eyes glaring daggers at you challengingly as stares you down.
It all happens too quickly for you to process; your positions are being flipped around yet again and your back is slamming into the lockers, letting out a small yelp at the feeling— but it’s all washed out by the sight of Taehyun falling to his knees, pushing your legs open before he’s settling himself between them comfortably— his eyes sparkle under the lights as he looks up at you, the crude contrasting bringing a wave of heat throughout your body. 
“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” Taehyun rasps, grabbing your leg before he’s lifting it up, feeling your hand on his shoulder at the unexpected action; he merely chuckles, placing slow, wet kisses from your inner knee before he begins to trail in— once he’s at your inner thighs, he slings your leg over his shoulder leisurely, sucking and biting at the skin before mumbling against it, “fucking dreamed about this.”
His words are pathetically effective— your panties feel uncomfortably stuck to your cunt, and the anticipation of feeling Taehyun’s mouth there definitely isn’t helping.
“Bullshit,” you grit, your free hand reaching down to lace into his hair; your nails scratch along his scalp and pull at his roots, and Taehyun shivers at the feeling, “god, do your other hookups like it when you say this shit?”
Beneath your skirt, he shakes his head, fingertips digging into your thighs at the thought. You’re trying to provoke him, it’s obvious, yet Taehyun can’t help but get irritated at the fact that you seem to be focusing on everything but him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever talked to like this,” he says, pulling out from under your skirt to bring your panties down, dragging them slowly until they’re finally off— you note with wide eyes that he immediately pockets them. “I’m usually not much of a talker.”
“But if you hate it that much, I can be quiet,” he murmurs, beginning to go back to your cunt again, bunching your skirt at your hips so you can get a good view of him— his doe eyes flicker up at you, and you swear he must know what that does to you as he continues. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
The dry laugh you let out comes out shaky and breathy; his affect on you is so obvious, yet you still seem to want to hide it all under this persona of yours, digging your heel in his back and tilting your hips closer to his face— he oggles at how visibly wet you are, a soft hiss leaving his lips as you pull at his hair, not giving him a chance to react before you’re pushing him in to where you need him the most. 
If you’re finally gonna give in to this stupid student athlete, it’s going to be on your terms. At least that’s what you tell yourself, a shaky moan escaping you and your grip tightening on Taehyun’s hair— he really doesn’t want to waste any time, you note.
His mouth feels like heaven; he’s quick to lick a stripe across your cunt, tongue digging at your needy hole before he comes up to your clit, licking at it teasingly until he finally hears you whine. His lips are soft and plump as he places messy kisses at your clit, his hands digging into your thighs in an attempt to stop you from shifting around so much— if anything, his bruising grip only serves to rip out another moan from you.
“S-shit, Taehyun— just like that, ah,” your moans are just as pretty as you— Taehyun feels like he’s in a daze as he presses closer against you, sucking your clit harshly and listening to the sweet whine you let out— he can feel his cock twitching pathetically in his pants, hips bucking at the air as his mouth moves down to your entrance. 
“Fuck!” your eyes screw shut as you feel Taehyun’s tongue enter you, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit as he nuzzles into your cunt, as though he could get further inside your pussy. The sighs and grunts he lets out aren’t lost on your ears either, cunt clenching desperately against him as you begin to wriggle out of his grip without realizing. 
“Mmmh, pretty face was meant to get fucked,” you groan out, the words slipping out of you without control. Your hips rock and grind against him, dazed eyes watching as his hold on you loosens and his tongue lolls out; watery eyes flicker back up to look at you, glowing from your compliment. 
Taehyun thinks that he could die happily like this. Your cunt is so sweet, so wet, the glide of it against his face enough to have him throbbing painfully in his pants. His jaw aches and it’s getting hard for him to breathe, but even then he refuses to stop— the sight of you is like a dream come true for him to pull away now. 
You’re so close— it’s evident by the way your hips start bucking against his face harshly, nails digging into his scalp as you push him closer, impossibly close— your mouth is left open, soft moans turning into curses as your leg tries to hook him in further, pressing against the firm muscles of his back— Taehyun’s eyes flutter shut, and before he can really second guess himself, he pulls away. 
The wet sound of his mouth leaving your dripping cunt should have you curling away and cringing in embarrassment. Instead, the only thing you can muster is a cry of his name, the sound venomous and disappointed as you glare down at the boy. 
“Sorry,” he says, voice broken and raspy, a panting and blushing mess, “I just— fuck, I need you.”
You’re left speechless at his desperation— but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind, getting back up to his feet before he’s grabbing at your waist and leaning in to kiss you; you can feel how hard he is against you, and it allows you to snap into your senses as you go up to place your hands against his chest once more; pulling away, you push against him in order to get him to walk— he obeys immediately.
“Geez, you give a guy a chance and he starts acting like a little virgin,” you sneer, noting with a flip of your stomach that Taehyun only grins, unaffected by your jab. You’ve led him to the edge of the bench set in the middle of this small area, pressing down on his shoulders and getting him to sit down; he watches with stars in his eyes as you straddle his lap, sitting your dripping cunt over his bulge firmly. “Am I gonna have to put in all the work here?”
“I mean,” Taehyun trails off, his hands finding purchase on your ass and beginning to guide you to rock against him; his teeth sink into his lip and his eyes darken as he takes in the sight, drawing a gasp out of you as he bucks his hips up. Looking back up at you, his face is happy and sweet. “You really don’t have to. But it’s kinda hot to get bossed around by you though— just thought you were more into that.”
Your jaw ticks. Without warning, you push him down against the bench, hovering over him and placing your hands on his waistband as you begin to undo his jeans.
“Quite a weird way to try and play off that you’re my bitch,” you grit out, tugging at his boxers and watching his cock spring out— he groans, hips bucking up at the feeling, his tip a pretty pink that throbs and leaks pathetically.
Taehyun laughs softly, watching with awe as you spit in your palm and slowly begin to stroke him; his head falls back and his eyes screw shut, noting with coy satisfaction that your hand doesn’t fully wrap around him. 
“Yeah, I’m your bitch,” he sighs out, his hands flying to your waist and getting him to sit on his thighs, “fuck, you’re too good at this.”
God, he’s so stupid; giving in to all your taunts without much of a fight, sucked in entirely by the feeling of your hand that pumps his length so slowly, tightening your hold on him and twisting, squeezing his tip teasingly— his hands reach up to cover his face before he can stop himself, pretty hands obscuring his heated face and parted lips that let out soft sighs of pleasure. 
“Don’t hide from me now,” you say, reaching up to pry his hands away, his eyes fluttering open before locking with yours, “you look so good like this.”
His eyes widen, the tips of his ears reddening with a cute blush; your praise is so unfamiliar, yet it renders him weak and needy for more, reaching out to grab your waist to scoot you up more— your cunt is touching his length by the time you scold him to stop, though he doesn’t seem to care much for your orders as he begins to fuck his hips against you.
“C’mon, just fuck me already,” he groans, your eyes as big as saucers as he continues to whine and beg. “Aren’t you supposed to like, use me and stuff?” 
This… is not what you were expecting from him. 
You’re sure the words are written across your face too, the incredulous look you give him making him shrink slightly, as though he was just now realizing what he was saying. 
But before he can backtrack and say something monumentally stupid to cancel it out, you grin, hovering over his lap and grabbing at his cock, lining it up with your entrance and taking in the way he visibly shudders. 
“You sound so cute when you’re begging,” you say, running his tip along your slit, allowing it to collect your growing arousal, the sound loud to both of you, “y’know, I would’ve given you a chance much earlier if you acted all nice and cute like this from the start.
“That player persona of yours wasn’t really my thing.”
The head of his cock finally breaches your entrance; Taehyun moans at the feeling of you finally sinking on him, able to feel the way he stretches you out the further you take him in, wet and warm walls fluttering with each gentle push. 
“Mmh,” your brows are furrowing at the feeling, not expecting him to be so damn thick— but you took him in regardless, putting on an apathetic front even if you were on the verge of melting on top of him— you can feel him twitch inside you, a weak whimper escaping you as his hands dig into your thighs, digging into the flesh cruelly once he finally bottoms out. 
“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Taehyun breathes out, hissing through his teeth once you finally start moving; your hips are methodical, your movements cruelly calculated as you rise slowly, leaving him waiting for a second before you slam back down— his legs jump, your body bouncing from the motion. 
You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him; he’s the definition of fucked out, sweat that beaded at his hairline causing strands of hair to stick to his skin, chest heaving and teeth digging into his lips with every bounce on his cock— when you start to set a pace, you note with annoyance that Taehyun just can’t stop trying to take over, his hands traveling to your waist to try and guide you, his hips fucking up to meet your pace. It’s endearing, for a moment, but then you find that he begins to get too handsy, his hands now lost underneath your shirt and trailing over your breasts curiously.
“Okay now, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you chide condescendingly, stopping your pace and sinking onto him, your weight fully on him as you swat his hands off. Taehyun begins to protest immediately, groaning about how mean and unfair you’re being. His hands attempt to go back to your waist, but you slap them off again, giving him a glare that makes him pout at you. 
Thoughts on how to get him to listen to you course through your mind, unsure of what to do until one hits you like a freight train. 
Taehyun watches in confusion as you reach for your hair, unsure of what to make of the sly smile on your face— it’s only once he sees the pretty bow unravel from your head that his eyes widen in understanding. 
“Oh no,” he mutters, your smile only growing wider as you reach for his hands— he retaliates, bringing his wrists together and just outside your reach, “oh hell no, c’mon!”
“Give me your hands,” you huff, lips pressing together in annoyance as he shakes his head and puts them over his head instead, just out of your reach, “give me your hands or I walk out right now.”
Taehyun knows how you are. You’re completely serious about that. 
“C’monnnn,” he groans, reluctantly offering his hands out for you to take. He watches with a petulant look as you wrap the ribbon around his wrists, tying them together so quickly he’s barely able to process what you’re doing, “please, I just wanna touch you.”
You ignore him, adding the final touch with careful hands; the bow on his wrists is just as pretty as the proud smile on your face, he notes bitterly. 
“Perfect,” you murmur to yourself, pushing his bound hands against his chest, holding onto them for leverage as you begin to move again; you can practically see all the thoughts leave his mind as he feels you around him, sucking him in and clenching with each prod against your sweet spot, hips angling so you’re hitting it perfectly. 
With a cruel curiosity, you shift on top of him, a hand holding his wrists down while the other drags his shirt up— though expected, you can’t help but whistle at the sight, running a hand over his abs, watching eagerly as he flinches from the contact. Without much of a thought, you bend down to place a kiss on his stomach, laughing at the soft whine you get in return. Sitting back up, you go back to the pace you set before, satisfied by the flustered man you see beneath you. 
Your nails are digging into his wrists; the orgasm he took from you is quickly building back up, your lips swollen and shining from how bitten they are— your cunt gushes around him, a ring beginning to form at the base of his length; Taehyun’s eyes roll back at the sight. 
The pretty moans you’re letting out and the tight grip your pussy has on him is making it impossible for him to last— he’s only a bit behind you as you feel your knees begin to become weak, your pace inconsistent as you grind on him in search of more.
“M’close… fuck…” you breathe out, hovering over Taehyun and caging him in— the roles have been reversed now, your elbows on each side of his head holding you up as you press yourself against him, your pace agonizingly slow as you lean down to kiss him— it’s sloppy and neither of you are entirely in your right minds, pathetically moaning into each other’s mouths the closer to your peak you get.
It’s nice to feel the heat of your body against his, but what you’re doing now simply isn’t enough for Taehyun. And though he knows you strictly forbade him, he can’t help himself from reaching down to grab your side, startling you and forcing you to sit up in confusion. 
“Sorry, I just— I’m so close, I need more,” he says, fingers digging into your side and thighs flexing beneath you— his brows furrow in concentration and next thing you know, he’s fucking up into you. 
The yelp you let out only makes Taehyun’s cock twitch inside you— you sound so good like this, overwhelmed and ruined, unable to stop or control the way he bucks his hips up into you, his hands on your side forcing you to come down on him with every thrust— you’re falling forward and pressing down on his chest in an attempt to not lay on him entirely, and Taehyun thinks that he might’ve just gotten the sight of you bouncing on top of him ingrained into his mind now.
“Oh fuck, you keep fucking squeezing me— are you close? Yeah? I am too,” he moans, watching as you hang your head and dig your nails into his skin— you’re both soooo close, Taehyun can feel it— and before he can second guess himself, words spill from his mouth in a desperate haste. 
“Can I cum inside you?” he asks, your eyes snapping open at the question— they meet his stupid, shiny round eyes, turned completely glassy as he tilts his head, his pace never ceasing for a second. “Can I, can I please? You’re so pretty, feel so good, c’mon, just wanna fill you up like you deserve—”
“Shit, yeah,” you whine, not needing much convincing in the first place to agree. “Fill me up, c’mon tyunnie, wanna be full—!”
The sound of the cute nickname coming from you sets Taehyun off instantly; his cock bottoms out and his hand slams your body down, your faint gasp barely registering in his mind as he finally cums— and it’s so much, spurts and spurts of warm cum filling you up and setting you off seconds after. 
When Taehyun feels your cunt fluttering around him, he helps you ride it out; even if it means his eyes get watery and his cock hurts with every thrust into you. He still does it, the overstimulation a small price to pay for being able to watch you fall apart on top of him, moaning out his name so nicely that he never wants it to be said by anyone that’s not you from now on. 
You’re an out of breath, sweaty mess by the time you finally come to your senses— well, kind of. You’d still rather not accept that womanizing student athlete Taehyun finally succeeded in getting in your pants. Maybe now he’ll finally leave you alone; you try to ignore the disappointed pang you get in your stomach from the thought. 
Beneath you, Taehyun simply pants, eyes closed in a sweet bliss; when they open back up, he looks at you with such fondness you can’t help but startle. 
“Can I take you out on a date?”
Your eyes widen, and you try to pretend as though the question doesn’t immediately lift up your mood. (Though the way your lips quirk up in an amused smile is definitely a giveaway.)
“You ask this now?” you say, crossing your arms and letting out a soft tsk, “I feel like it’s supposed to go the other way around.”
Taehyun smiles, and you can’t resist the contagious sight.
“I know. Sorry for being so irresistible.”
Your smile drops.
“Just for that, I’m saying no.”
“Waitwaitwait—” You make a move to get off Taehyun, but are stopped immediately with his hands on your side, forcing you to stay put the best you can— he tugs you back into him, cradling your face and ignoring your protests to let go.
“I lied, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” he coos, smiling at the way you continue to glare at him; so cute, he thinks, unable to stop himself from craning his neck up and placing a peck on your lips— you melt instantly, giggling softly and placing a peck of your own on the tip of his nose.
“I’ll see you after practice then.”
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rinhaler · 4 months
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So Tell Me What You Need
oliver aiku really really likes you ♡
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ yandere!oliver aiku x f!reader
Genre: college!au (++ smut) Notes: thank u 2 @chososdoll for doing gods work with this fic i hated it hehehe Warnings: 18+, serial killer mention, murder mention, weed mention, smoking, stalking ♡, manipulation, dub/noncon, 'just the tip' ♡, coercion, oral (m receiving), cock slapping ♡, facial, creampie ♡, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, etc.) ♡ Words: 7.2k
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The body of a young woman was discovered in the early hours of Thursday morning. It’s the third body in the last five months to be found, and an inside source has revealed that this is thought to be a pattern by one killer. The victims are all female and—
Your heart pounds as you shut off the TV in your front room. It’s the last thing you want to hear as the windows reveal the dark night sky outside. You don’t even see the stars above; the light pollution takes that comfort from you. All you can see is rows of apartments opposite to your own, some lit and some dim. Some with funky colours but most are warm white.
And your face flushes with heat as you notice one of the latter have a couple fucking up against a window before you turn away to face your roommate.
She notes your concern, but chooses to smirk and poke fun anyway.
“Maybe it’s your stalker,” she teases you. “You might be next.”
“That’s not funny.” you sigh, storming off to your room. You wince as you look at the abandoned study materials at your desk. You’ve been putting everything off for weeks, but your coursework and exams are the last thing on your mind.
You find yourself pacing around a little before you eventually decide to sit on the edge of your bed. There’s no way you can possibly sleep after hearing that. And your roommate’s poor joke has only made you more paranoid. So, what is there left to do?
Music might help, you think to yourself as you unlock your phone. You can barely do anything as your fingers begin to tremor while you look through your playlists. You’re interrupted, though, as a call from an unknown number fills your screen.
You mask your fear with anger, grunting as you swing open your bedroom door to yell at your friend.
“Stop it, Lacey! I’m going to have nightmares, I’m serious!” you yell. She looks at you, confused. You hold up your phone to show her the incoming call. But her eyes drop to the coffee table, her own phone discarded on top of it in favour of smoking from her bong.
“Answer it.” she urges you.
And you gulp, nodding, sliding the button across the bottom of the touch screen to take the call. You steel yourself, already knowing what’s coming as soon as you speak. It’s the same thing every single time. You don’t say a word, not for a few seconds. There isn’t a sound from either of you as you sit on the couch while your roommate’s eyes follow you.
“Hello?” you say, meekly.
It begins.
The heavy, repetitive breathing that sends a chill down your spine. She looks concerned, now. It’s the first time she’s been present when you’ve received a call. You’d started to suspect she didn’t believe you.
“Who the fuck is this?” she yells, snatching the phone from your hand. Their breathing stutters, it’s barely noticeable but you both pick up on it. It’s enough to make her hang up. “I— you should stay in my room tonight. W-With me.”
“Are you scared?” you ask her, earnestly. She doesn’t respond, but the fact that she’s packing away her drug paraphernalia is answer enough. “Thank you.” you smile, though you leave the room as you do.
You start scrolling through your contacts on instinct, tossing your phone onto your bed as you find the number you’re searching for and put it on loudspeaker as it dials. It rings and rings, and you start to worry you won’t get through. You undress, taking off your clothes from the day to change into your pyjamas.
“Hey you,” he starts. “S’pretty late, baby. Somethin’ wrong?”
“Oliver…” you start, legs buckling at the sound of his voice as you feel a combination of relief and guilt surge through you. You sniff, the pressure of your fear and other underlying emotions doing their best to overwhelm you. “My— The stalker called. Again.” you tell him, and you’re instantly met with a sympathetic coo.
“Do you want me to come over?” he asks. “Or do you wanna come here? I’ll pick you up, princess, s’not a problem.” he continues. You shake your head despite him not being able to see.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Sorry, I was just freaking out. Nice to hear your voice, though…” you smile a little, feeling shy all of a sudden.
“Alright. Only if you’re sure.” he speaks, clearing his throat. “I miss you, though. You better let me see that pretty face of yours soon.”
“Okay,” your smile widens. Once again nodding knowing he can’t actually see you right now. “Goodnight Oli.”
“Goodnight, gorgeous.”
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Sharing a bed with your roommate helped. You didn’t even mind her snoring, it’s not like you’d expected to get much sleep anyway. You got enough to get you through the day, though. Classes went by without incident, and you didn’t feel yourself wavering at lunchtime like you have been recently.
The calls are unpredictable, you’re always on edge. There’s no specific times or days or even how many times he’ll call.
You walk back to your apartment alone. The winter sucks. It’s not particularly cold, but it’s dark when you get to your classes and then it’s dark again when you leave for the day. You feel like you’re going crazy, and you can’t pretend you aren’t scared of being outside alone when it’s so dark out.
A text notification frightens you enough to almost drop your phone. You don’t even remember turning your phone off silent. Though you can’t help but grin when you see who it’s from.
Oli: Wanna hang out tonight?
You: I’m too behind on my coursework ☹
You: Another time? x
Oli: Okay princess x
You take a deep breath, pocketing your phone as you continue your journey to your apartment. The elevator isn’t empty, but you don’t mind. If anything, you feel a little better to be around people. Your music plays softly through your earphones the whole time, and your anxiety finally begins to dissipate.
Although, it comes flooding back when you get to the door of your apartment.
It’s locked.
And, normally, that would be fine. But Lacey always finishes early on Monday’s. And she’s always home before you get here. Your mind instantly flickers to the phone calls. The stalker.
The news report last night.
Little hands tremble as you search pathetically through your tote bag until you find your keys. The metal clings and clangs as you search for the right one; you jump as they fall from your hands. Eventually, though, the right one is in your grasp and you open the door quickly.
There’s no sign of her. She isn’t smoking in the front room like you expect. You open her bedroom door without knocking, only to discover she isn’t there either. Deep breaths are taken in vain. You try to call her, but there’s no answer.
You: Are you okay?? Call me ASAP
Lacey: I’m fine! I’m at the frat hanging out with Eita 😇
“Oh thank God.” you sigh, all but falling to your knees when you read her reply. Instantly, you can’t help but think about what a slut she is when you think about her failing to tell you her plans because she’s decided to sneak off to ‘hang out’ with her toxic friend with benefits.
Your mind is clear, though your heart is still beating a mile a minute.
Oli: You’re really just gonna study all night? X
You: Thinking about ordering a pizza :P x
Oli: I like pizza you know 🙄x
You: Next time! Promise x
It’s crazy. It’s embarrassing, actually, how quickly he can put you at ease. You’ve only known him for a few months, but it feels like you’ve known him forever. You sigh, dreamily, as you recall how he had introduced himself to you and Lacey during welcome week. He had to squeeze in the fact he was the president of the most popular frat on campus.
Even then, he made you blush. Though you couldn’t act on it; you’d had a boyfriend at the time. But you’ve been single for almost as long as you’ve known Oli, since you dumped him a week or two after; when you realised you didn’t love him anymore. And, still, nothing has happened between you and Oliver.
You’re scared, truthfully.
You’re scared because you know he’s experienced and he’s confident. You know girls throw themselves at him and he knows he’s popular. You’re not a virgin, but compared to him you may as well be.
After clearing your throat and shaking your head to dismiss your train of thought, you start looking for food to add to your basket from your favourite pizza place. It’s so hard to choose, as much as you’d love to get everything, you’re basically broke.
Incoming call.
“Please, no.” your voice breaks as you speak out loud.
You shouldn’t answer. The number is private and you already know what’s going to happen. But you’ve tried that before. You’ve tried ignoring them, but they just keep calling until you answer.
You’re frozen, paralysed with fear as you contemplate what to do. Lacey isn’t here to support you this time. She won’t be coming back, either. So, do you really want to answer? Do you really want to deal with how many calls you’ll receive if you don’t?
The burden of dealing with this alone is too much to bear.
But you’ve been left with no other choice.
“H-Hello?” you whimper, eager to get it over with. The breathing starts, and you’re surprised that this time it’s enough to make you cry. And it’s not just a few tears falling. Whoever is on the other end of the call will undoubtedly know what you’ve been reduced to. “Please stop doing this. W-What do you want from me?” you cry.
It's useless, though, the breathing just continues.
“I can’t t-take it anymore, please, p-please…”
“Mmmmpf,” you hear, it’s cracked and strained and it makes you feel sick. You aren’t sure if you’re imagining things, or if this sicko is actually getting off to the sound of your anguish and desperate pleas. “Thank you.” they say, the voice is deep and distorted but it’s clear as day.
Your breath is trapped in your lungs. And for the first time, they hang up.
You just can’t anymore.
Can’t breathe.
Can’t function.
Can’t think.
You can think enough to call Oli, though. Tremoring digits manage to navigate away from the takeout website to bring up your text thread with Oliver once more. And you don’t hesitate to press the call button.
Your eyes are soaked, vision blurry like a smudged camera lens as you look around your barren apartment while you wait for him to pick up.
“Hi gorgeous,” he answers, a seductive lilt in his tone. If you weren’t so worked up, you’d be flustered. You can picture the smirk on his face as he talks, though you aren’t really listening. “What’s up, baby? Calling to brag about that pizza?”
“O-li.” you sniff, voice cracking after each vowel. He’s silent, but you hear him move. Like he’s sitting upright suddenly, ready to spring into action to rescue you. “He c-called. Again, Oli… again—”
“Shit.” he sighs. “Do you want me to—”
“Please… come get me. ‘m so scared, don’t wanna be here a-alone.” you whine.
“I’m on my way.” he tells you. “I won’t be long, baby. I promise. See ya soon, princess.” he finishes, cutting off the line as he rushes to his car.
Your body stiffens as the silence of your apartment hits you once more. You can’t waste time, though. So, you pack. You’re quick about it, too. You fill your biggest bag with toiletries, a change of clothes and sleepwear… and your coursework.
There’s no way you’ll be doing any work tonight, but you can at least pretend you’re functioning like normal. You can’t let this creep dictate your entire life, right? Maybe being with Oliver will actually keep you calm enough to actually get some of your work started.
Oli: I’m outside x
The black night sky makes your heart race as you walk out of your apartment. The winter cold is harsher in the bleak evenings. Your thin sweater isn’t enough to protect you from the air nipping at your skin.
It’s the least of your worries; all you can think about is the fact this stalker of yours could be watching you right now. It could be anyone. Someone from your class, someone you shared the elevator with, your next-door neighbour. The very thought makes your steps quicken. You’re hurrying to the elevator and bashing the button until it arrives. It’s the first time you’ve felt safe since you left your apartment, because you’re alone. But even then, your skin breaks into goosebumps as you look up at the CCTV camera in the corner.
You’ll never feel safe, not really.
You rush down the road when you see Oliver’s car in the distance. He honks, and it’s all you need to run to him. You’re running like an athlete, and it feels more humiliating than it should. You’re sure Oliver understands why you’re frightened; and you’re sure he won’t judge you for sprinting to the car. But, still, it feels pathetic.
You open the door roughly before you practically dive into the passenger seat. He moves out of the way a little as you throw your overnight bag into the back seat.
“Hey, you’re alright now. Yeah? I’ve got you.” he speaks softly, doing what he can to relax you. You almost melt into his touch as he tucks a hair behind your ear. You do, a little, your body almost melds to the plush leather seat. Your head falls backwards onto the head rest, and your lip begins to wobble. “Poor thing…” he sighs.
“D-Drive, please…” you say, voice weak and strained.
He nods, driving off towards the frat house.
“I wouldn’t worry, you know.” he tells you, putting his hand on your thigh as he drives slow and carefully. You don’t object to his advances, in fact, it’s a comfort to feel his warm hand on your bitter flesh. Even his rough thumb stroking your skin is a welcome feeling. “It’s probably your ex, princess.”
“You think so?” you wonder. “I don’t know… he didn’t take the breakup well, but—”
“You never know what people will resort to when they’re heartbroken, baby.” he tells you, uneven eyes focus on you even as he drives. It makes you nervous, but his calm demeanour forces you to ignore it. You trust him, wholly. “Plus, he knows he lost the best thing that’ll happen to him in his pathetic life.”
“… Oli.” you smile, looking down at your knees as you try to avoid his cocksure stare.
He doesn’t say another word for the rest of the journey.
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You come face to face with Lacey as you walk through the grandiose double doors. You feel like a guest of honour as you enter the castle that Oliver Aiku reigns over. Everyone is filled with warm smiles and happy faces as you see them. But your expression in return is feeble. You try to smile, but you’re so downtrodden, and Lacey immediately knows why.
She doesn’t even care that you don’t say hello when you run by her on the stairs and hurry to Oliver’s room. Oliver remains at the bottom while he watches you flee.
“She got another call.” he informs your roommate.
“Fuck.” she hisses through her teeth as she looks back up the stairs. Her voice is filled with remorse as she thinks things through. “I shouldn’t have left her alone; I knew she was—”
“S’alright, Lace,” Oliver smiles, his pristine pearly whites instantly put her at ease. “You can’t be with her every second, don’t blame yourself.” his eyes are so warm and full of love, she sees it every time he talks about you. He’s good for you, she thinks. He’s so sweet about you and he’s crazy about you.
“Give her our best.” Eita tells him, putting a hand on Lacey’s shoulder as they descend the stairs. “We’re going to smoke in the garden.”
“Enjoy yourselves, kids.” Oliver smirks, winking at them before chasing after you.
He sees you making yourself comfortable in his room. You’re already undressed, and you don’t care that he can see you. He doesn’t dare look away, either. But you don’t mind. He watches as you put on the mismatched pyjamas you threw into your bag, and he sits beside you on the bed after you collapse backwards onto the mattress.
“I’m gonna change my number,” you whisper. “I should have done that in the first place…”
“Good idea.” he agrees. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his hand rest atop your head, his thumb delicately stroking your forehead again and again. He swears he sees you fall asleep for a second before you scare yourself awake with a too heavy breath. “Should we get you that pizza?”
You nod, lightly.
“I’d like that.”
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He’s the perfect gentleman. You’re lucky to know Oli, you think. That’s how you feel anyway, as he watches you in silence while simultaneously encouraging your efforts in getting your schoolwork done.
He was kind, and he was helpful. Telling you that you could take a break or stop all together for the evening when your food arrived. And so, you spent a good while making notes and studying textbooks.
“Atta girl.” he winks at you, teasingly, when you begin to scribble down words onto pages. “I’m proud of you, baby, don’t let that idiot get under your skin.”
“Thanks Oli, I—” you’re cut off by the sound of your phone vibrating. You look over your shoulder and back to the desk you’ve been sitting at for the last 35 minutes. “O-Oli…” you whimper, showing him your phone.
He sets his own phone down on his bedside cabinet as he focuses on yours. It’s them. Oliver takes your phone, eyes furrowed as he debates whether to answer or not - choosing to answer brazenly. He puts it on loudspeaker, if only so you can confirm it is indeed the man who’s been harassing you endlessly.
The breaths are heavy but also stifled. It’s like he’s trying to control himself. He’s trying to be quiet. Oliver looks at you for answers, but you don’t have any for him. You haven’t got a single solitary clue on how to deal with these calls anymore.
Nothing works.
“Keep messing with her, I’ll fuck you up.” he says sternly. He eyes you up to make sure you’re listening to him. He wants you, needs you, to know he’s going to protect you at any cost. “We know who you are, so knock it the fuck off.”
He presses the big red disconnect button and puts your phone down beside you on the desk. He’s a little taken aback when you rush into his arms, your head resting on his firm chest while your arms wrap tightly around his torso. His hand comes down gently on the crown of your head and hear him emit a soft chuckle. You can’t see the small smile etching its way across his face, but you know it’s there.
“I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, okay?” he assures you. You feel like a different person, with him. It’s like you’re having an out of body experience when you find yourself lunging forward on your tippy toes to place your lips against his. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. Not right away, at least. He holds your shoulders after a few seconds go by. “Where did that come from?” he smirks.
“I don’t know, sorry… I just—” you’re interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. You back away a little, smiling. “Saved by the bell.” you joke.
“I’ll go,” he closes the gap between you again, bending down to capture your lips in a soft, chaste kiss once again. “Find a movie or something, anything you want.” he whispers against your skin before parting from you.
You shiver, slightly, after he closes the door behind himself. The rational side of you knows that you’re fine. Nothing bad is going to happen right now. But you can’t help feeling safer with Oli around.
Maybe that’s why you kissed him.
You’re just so grateful to him.
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“We should prob’ly go to sleep.”
You nod, agreeing when you see the time tick tick ticking on the plain black clock above his desk. A few hours had passed since the most recent call. You didn’t even pick a movie, you ended up watching some silly gaming videos on YouTube while you ate together.
It was divine.
And you can’t deny the possibility that it tasted better with a smile on your face and good company.
You get under the covers, your body feeling warmer as you watch Oliver circle the bed to turn off the light. He’d decided to forgo wearing anything to cover his chiselled body, and you suspect he did it on purpose.
The room is plunged into darkness until he uses the flashlight on his phone to guide his way back to bed. The mattress sinks behind you as he gets under the covers, and you only just manage to suppress a yelp when he presses his body against yours. You could quite literally dissolve under the pressure.
He smirks against the juncture between your neck and shoulder as he kisses you there, a desperate mewl escaping you in an instant. His hand rests on the curve of your hip, though his thick fingers begin to sink into your malleable flesh. You can’t even bring yourself to protest as you feel him not so subtly nudge his hips into you. And you can feel him.
“Oli… w-we shouldn’t.” you say, softly, the desperation clinging to your tongue gives away your true feelings instantly. You shouldn’t? That’s your opinion, clearly, as a rough hand winds its way around your body and up the baggy unflattering t-shirt you’d decided to wear.
“Are you sure?” he whispers against the hairs standing on end on the back of your neck. Words formulating in your mouth crumble to pieces when he squeezes the supple flesh of your breasts, alternating between them like he’s deciding which is his favourite. He experimentally rolls one of your nipples between his finger and thumb, and he’s mesmerised by the sound you release and the way you back your ass up against his aching length. He offers his own breathy sound in response. It’s almost a gasp. “You like this?” he wonders aloud despite knowing.
And you could cry as you nod.
It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. Since you’ve been loved.
And why should you put your needs on hold just because you’re a little scared?
“What about just the tip, princess?” he mutters, you feel your panties soak through as gravelly words enter your ear canal. He’s that desperate. He needs you that badly that he’s prepared to settle for just the tip. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand how much I need you, baby?”
“We r-really shouldn’t…” you tell him.
Even through the material of the top you’re wearing, you feel his rock hard body pressed heavily into your back. His hard-on makes you dizzy, you may as well be drunk from how much the room is spinning as you do all you can to resist.
“But you want to.” he tells you. He moves you onto your back and cages you in. He brushes his bulging sweats into your heat, his head drooping as he feels so close but so far to what he’s always wanted. Since the very moment he set his sights on you, he wanted this. “I can feel you, princess. You can feel me too, yeah?” he asks.
“Y-Yes, Oli… I feel you.”
“So stop fightin’ it.” he commands, though there’s a level of desperation interlaced with his words. He pulls down his sweats and his cock springs free, slapping against his abs and leaving a sticky smear against his tensing muscles. You whimper when he repeatedly taps his cockhead against your clit, even through the layers you’re wearing to cover it. Your toes curl. “Just the tip, sweetheart. C’mon, for me… been waiting so long for this.”
You don’t even answer before he hooks deft fingers into the waistline of your shorts. He leaves your panties, though. And you yelp as his fingers tease the pretty lace covering your drippy folds. He hums, he moans as his fingers run along the clothed length of your slit.
“You’re fucking soaking, baby. You need this cock, please. Let me fuck you. Why are you tryna deny yourself of a good time?”
And with that, you find yourself nodding dumbly.
He growls at your muted answer. It’s all he needs. It’s all he fucking needs and he’s happy his odd coloured eyes even manage to pick up on the gesture even in the dark. Could he have imagined it? He doesn’t know, nor does he care when your legs spread open for him like a flower once he moves your panties aside. The dewiness is cold against the crease of your thigh, but it’s barely noticeable as Oli spits down on your pulsing clit.
“Just the tip, o-okay?” you stutter.
“Mmm,” he answers. He hisses as your tight cunt swallows him, practically sucking in the head of his cock as soon as your entrance feels him. His eyes lose focus for a second and his breathing is erratic.
It’s happening.
It’s really happening.
He almost loses balance, hands settling on your bent knees so he can stabilise himself. You’ve been playing so hard to get for so long. And even you aren’t sure why.
He cups your face as he lowers his body on top of yours. His lips slot against your own as he kisses you passionately, though he breaks it soon enough.
“’m sorry.” he apologises. And you’re confused, only for a moment, before you feel his full-length plunge into your unprepped walls. Your hands fly to his back, nails digging and scratching over beautiful musculature and marking him like he’s yours “You’re fucking tight, baby.” he chuckles, kissing you again as his hips begin to gyrate.
“Oli, I said—”
“Don’t care.” he argues, already knowing what you’re about to say. “You feel too good. So tight f’me, princess. ‘n I’m making you feel good, yeah? Let me fuck you, stop thinking and take it.” he tells you, hips snapping harder to accentuate his point.
“Nngh—!” you moan, your nails still claw and mark at his back. He chuckles, darkly, as you draw blood. He doesn’t care, not in the least. He hadn’t expected you to be like this, but he can’t say he isn’t enjoying it. He kisses your neck as his thrusts get deeper and harsher. You feel his lips curve as you clench around him tighter.
He’s found your spot.
That perfect spot deep inside of your perfect cunt.
Your tight walls that now he’s certain were made for him to fuck. He pulls out, and it’s so brief. But the way you’re whimpering tells him how much of a good girl you are. You’re trained without even needing to cum. You’ve never been fucked so good.
After all of the sex you had with your ex, you didn’t know missionary could feel like this.
Doggy was always your favourite because it was the only time you could really feel anything with him. But this… you can feel him in your fucking throat. Your mind is blank as he pounds into you again and again at an unrelenting pace.
“Who’s making you feel good?” he mumbles into your ear. You feel close to passing out when he nibbles on your earlobe right after. Your cunt clenches and he laughs because he swears if you do that again you might actually break his cock. “Who’s fucking you so good, hm? Tell me who’s making your pretty pussy purr.”
“Y-You!” you gasp. “Oli, please! Please don’t stop.” you wail.
You can’t even feel embarrassed at the thought of anyone hearing you. Not when he’s dangling your first penetrative orgasm right in front of your face like a donkey with a hanging carrot. You mumble his name like it’s a prayer as he batters into your g-spot as if it were his soul reason for living.
“Waited too fuckin’ long for this,” he admits, the scruff of his facial hair scratches your skin as he gives you a filthy, sordid tongue kiss whilst continuing to assault the button deep within that will lead to your eventual ruin. And it’s close. It’s so fucking close and the two of you can feel it. “First time you’ve been fucked properly. That pathetic ex of yours—”
“D-Don’t,” you warn him, having no desire talking about your potential stalker when you’re so close to reaching your peak.
He grabs your face and squeezes until your lips pucker for him. Your eyes widen as he stares into them. You will listen to what he has to say, he’s making damn sure of it.
“Had a perfect pussy right in his face ‘n he didn’t know what to do with her.” he smirks. “No wonder you didn’t want him anymore.”
“Oli,” you sob. “Oli, please.”
“But I can make you cum.” he tells you. He frees your face and holds his hands under the bends of your knees. You feel every breath in your lungs escape as he folds you in half. He can’t help but laugh, not quite at your expense but it feels like that regardless. Only because he’s shocked. He can’t believe such a simple change could have you cumming so quickly for him. “Good girl, that’s it, baby.” he praises you.
“Haah, hah, aaaah! O-Oli! Mmmpf—!” you gasp, creaming around him pathetically as he drills his length in and out of you.
“I’ll make you cum t-that hard. Every fucking time, princess.” he stutters as he nears his own end. He isn’t sure, but he’s almost certain he sees your eyes cross as you cum for him. God you’re such a slut. He can’t believe you’ve been acting so coy and hard to get for so long. You’ll be addicted, now. You won’t be able to get enough now that you’ve experienced what a good fuck can really do for you. “Fuck. Fuuuuu-ck…” he finishes, still thrusting into you.
The warmth you feel coat your insides has your self esteem at an all time high. And you hate how much of a simple-minded girl you really are. As if guys won’t cum in anything they stick their dicks in if given the chance. And, still, you feel so special that Oliver Aiku chose you to be his own personal cum dump for the night.
His sweet words and ability to make you unravel make you feel more meaningful to him than you really are. He kisses you repeatedly before collapsing by your side. His seed dribbles out of your spent cunt and, now, you feel disgusting. But it doesn’t take long for him to catch his breath and move to spoon you again. He puts his softening length back inside, intent on keeping you plugged up with the goal of falling asleep like this.
“T-Thank you… Oli…” you whisper.
He doesn’t speak.
But a sweet kiss on your shoulder is all you needed from him.
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“Oliver.” you whisper.
He grunts in response, and that’s all. You consider saying his name again. You consider saying it a little louder this time so he’ll hear you. But instead, you drop it. If anything, it’s probably a blessing. You raise your head a little to check where all of your belongings are. If he’s so out of it that he can’t even respond to his name, you should take the chance to sneak out before anyone can tease you about your antics.
You’re expecting an earful from Lacey. She’ll want to talk about every sordid detail. And, truthfully, you’d rather die. You’re embarrassed. You’re ashamed of yourself for even having sex on your mind when you’re dealing with a stalker.
The thought of the other guys seeing you is filling you with embarrassment, too. You know already without even seeing them that everyone knows what you did. You were so loud, both of you were. And in the moment, you didn’t care. Oliver didn’t either, but he’ll wake up not caring too.
Guys that hadn’t heard you fucking will have definitely been told by now. You’ll be greeted by smirks and torment on your way out of the frat. You should have known this would end up happening. It’s been obvious how much Oliver wanted this for a long time, and you held off, but last night you were weak.
So weak, and now you want to runaway from the scene of the crime.
You’re taken aback as you try and get out of bed but you’re pulled straight back into Oliver’s arms.
“Where’d you think you’re going?” he asks.
Fuck.
As if he couldn’t get any sexier, of course his morning voice is hot. It’s coarse and rugged and you instinctively melt back into his arms. You’ll tell him. You will tell him that you’re leaving. Right after you grind on him a little bit.
Just a little bit.
“I h-have to go,” you lie. “I’ve got things to do, Oli.”
“Mmm, don’t care. Got morning wood, feel it?” he asks. His arm snakes around your body and his palm flattens against your stomach so that your ass is pressed against his erection once again. “Can’t go ‘til you do something about it.”
“Oli I, aah, fu—! N-Not fair…” you mewl as his fingers dip into your panties and his fingers begin to play with your silky clit.
“Suck me off.” he commands, his touches on your clit become lighter and lighter until he stops completely. “I’ll finger you ‘til you’re droolin’ if you suck this cock f’me, princess.” he stuffs his wet fingers into your mouth so you can taste yourself. It catches you off guard, and you sputter around them. But as he continues to finger fuck your face, you begin to mewl around his thick digits. “Good girl, just suck my cock like that.”
He reaches behind his head and throws a pillow to the ground for you. He lifts you so you’re facing him, and can’t quite believe how seamlessly he manages to carry and move you exactly where he wants.
And then you remember, he’s experienced.
He sits on the edge of the bed whilst your legs are wrapped around his waist as you make out. He bites your lip and encourages you to drop to the ground. You nod, reluctantly, worried that you won’t be able to give the performance he’s hoping for.
But regardless, he watches as you move the pillow across the floor and between his feet so you can kneel on it.
You whimper a little as your legs widen as you kneel, feeling last nights ejaculate slowly drip out of you and onto his fresh, pristine pillow. He doesn’t care, though. His dick is soaked from your cunt and his pre. And it’s all you can think about as he lightly slaps it against your nose and lips.
Your jaw loosens and your mouth is a perfect ‘O’ shape for him to slot into. His fingers lace through your hair as he slowly lowers you onto his cock. You hadn’t noticed in the dark, but he’s uncircumcised. You’ve never seen a dick like his before.
Your hand wraps around his length as you take him into your mouth, but you soon pull away again. You can’t believe how much easier it is to work someone with foreskin.
He smirks, seeing the thoughts go through your head. He’s so sensitive and receptive and you’re clueless. He’s practically putty in your hands and yet you think he’s the one in control. You’re so cute and naïve.
He loves girls like you.
“Suck it, princess.” he commands. “S’not a toy, y’know. Suck my dick clean.”
You clear your throat before sinking down onto his length once again, finding a steady rhythm to suck and lick and take him down your throat. He’s average length, but he’s girthy. It’s hard to take, honestly. Compared to your pencil-dicked ex, your eyes are watering and you’re doing anything and everything not to choke or gag.
He sees it, too, he’s got a perfect view as he tugs at your hair to make sure you’re keeping eye contact with him as you suck him dry.
“That’s a good slut,” he smirks through a heavy breath. “Take this dick, jus’ like that…” he continues.
Your thighs squeeze together as he degrades you. You don’t like it, you don’t like that you’ve become a slut after being his princess. But at the same time, you love it. You want to hear it again. So you take him deeper. And deeper.
“Such a dumb girl letting that loser ex of yours stick his dick in you.” he says, licking his lips as he pushes your head lightly. His chest rises and falls rapidly as the pressure of his hand intensifies until your nose brushes against brunette curls, and then squishes against his pubis. “And now he’s stalking you… what do you think he’d do if he knew you were sucking this cock?” he asks, his voice breathy and desperate as his hips start to buck.
You try to pull away, but the barely trying effort of his hand keeping you in place is somehow stronger. He coos as you stutter, struggling to breathe through the desperation.
“Breathe through your nose, stupid.” he tells you. “Good cock makes pretty girls like you real dumb.” he smiles.
He yanks at your hair until you’re fully removed from his cock. Pre and dribble pools from your mouth as you gasp desperately. You want to be mad at him, you want to tell him not to speak to you like that.
But you can’t.
Not when his lips are on yours and you feel yourself getting off from the idea of him tasting himself on your tongue. You’re breathless and out of words when he breaks it momentarily, and the sound of tacky masturbation is like a tidal wave in your ears.
“My pretty little slut, aren’t you?” he asks, kissing you again before you can answer. You can’t answer when your head is so empty. Is that really what you are? It doesn’t matter, you suppose. He’s already decided for you. “God, don’t you have any self-respect? Don’t you think you deserve better than being a stupid slut for me?”
His face contorts as he jerks himself harder and faster. You’re too busy thinking about his question to notice, though. You suck his tip into your mouth before he forces you away. His intimidating glare telling you that he’s looking for an answer this time.
“M-Maybe…” you pout, eyes wet and wide as you wonder aloud. Do you deserve better? Isn’t this all your good for? He’ll keep you safe, at least. He seems to like you more than any other girl on campus. He’s the best fuck you’ve ever had and you’re way more into him than you’d ever let on.
And just the as word leaves your lips, he’s moaning boisterously. Your face painted in white, pearly cum. A showing of just how much worth you have in his eyes. It feels almost endless as he gives you a full facial, hissing as it drips from your eyelash and into your eye.
He scrapes some of it from your face and force feeds it into your mouth.
You’re disgusting, too, because you suck without question.
“Fuck, you’re nasty.” he laughs. He lifts you up from the ground and tosses you onto the bed with little care. You almost want to cry from the stinging sensation you feel in your eye. You should have left when you had the chance. Instead you’re starting off the morning and Oliver Aiku’s cum rag. You don’t feel much better when he throws your shorts at you. “Clean yourself up.”
You try your best, focusing the material around your eye area as you try to do some sort of damage control. You see him tuck his dick into his sweats with your unaffected eye, and he swaggers towards the bedroom door.
“Where are you going?” you ask.
“I’ll get you a towel, wait here.” he tells you.
He hastens down the stairs and walks into the kitchen. The frat is bare, he suspects most of the guys must still be in bed. Though as soon as he rounds the corner, he notices Eita sitting at the kitchen table. They share a knowing smirk, silently celebrating the fact that Oliver finally got what he wanted out of you.
Oliver pours himself a bowl of cereal, leaning against the counter as he crunches it between his teeth. Eita looks up from his phone after a few moments of silence and finally speaks.
“Did you fuck her, then? Or—”
“Fucked her stupid. ‘n she sucked me off this morning.” he smirks, slurping the milk on his spoon as he thinks about your pretty face covered in his seed. “All thanks to you, my friend.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eita laughs, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and igniting it with a lighter from his pocket.
“No no, really, thank you.” he laughs, “I got to be her knight in shining armour when you called her last night. She was so easy to fuck after that.” he grins, holding a fist out for him to bump. Eita chuckles, trading which hand holds his cigarette before returning the gesture.
“You’re such a sick fuck.” Eita laughs, scrolling through his phone. “Look,” he shows his screen to Oliver. He can only laugh when he sees yet another article about the psycho serial killer that has made your anxiety worse than it already would be with a stalker on the loose.
“I’m not the one killing girls, am I?” Oliver comments, “Just scaring one girl with some heavy breathing.” he shrugs.
Even he isn’t twisted enough to think whoever this local serial killer is isn’t completely fucked up. But he can’t deny that it started happening at the perfect time. After he set his plan in motion to be your stalker. After he planted a seed in your mind that he’d always be there for you if you needed him. He’d always protect you no matter what happened, and he wasn’t about to let this stalker get to you.
You fell for it. Hook, line and sinker. You’re even starting to suspect your stupid limp dick ex because he told you to suspect him. Oliver Aiku, the guy who’s always around when you need him most. The guy who’s always just a phone call or text message away. The guy who’s always offered to be by your side and jump in harms way to protect you.
Oliver wasn’t even on your radar.
Perfect Oliver.
Sweet Oliver.
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© 2024 rinhaler
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hoonvrs · 1 year
Text
NOONA — p. sunghoon smau
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PAIRING younger!sunghoon x older!fmr
SYNOPSIS park sunghoon experienced love at first sight when he first laid eyes on his friends older sister. a series of sunghoon desperately trying to do anything in his power to get the girl and yang jungwon cockblocking him for funsies.
GENRE smau, fluff, highschool/college au, crack, sunghoon having no shame
FEATURING ( enha ) all, ( aespa ) karina + winter, ( txt ) beomgyu + soobin, ( loona ) olivia hye
WARNINGS swearing, kys/kms jokes, friendly bullying, dick/sex jokes, sunghoon crying every other chapter ( more will be added if necessary )
STATUS complete
TAGLIST (CLOSED)
S. NOTE adding this note here to remind everyone to not spam like! it shadowbans my posts and lessens my engagement, enjoy <3
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PROFILES loser lamo wannabe | WOMEN IN STEM (and man) | privs
CHAPTERS
01 | BLONDE JAKE HATE PAGE
02 | surprise shawty!
03 | what’s her name, quickly
04 | why’s he kinda…
05 | not a virgin anymore
06 | all da virgins mad😹
07 | do it for noona
08 | he’s out of line. let’s kill him.
09 | we both crode (+written 0.5k)
10 | you are scaring the hoes
11 | not living not laughing not loving
12 | she won’t me
13 | sounds sus…
14 | hey dweeb
15 | me n her are like this🤞🏼
16 | you wanna kiss me so bad
17 | i’m bathed in his blood
↳ extra: can you fight
18 | never beating them delusions
19 | what the actual fuck dawg
20 | you scare me sometimes
21 | what did you just call me
22 | hoes be mad
23 | gotta make mommy proud
24 | HES SO!:&:@2’d
25 | no comment
26 | the sexy six (+heeseung)
27 | y’all
28 | messy girls
29 | a little birdie told me
30 | i’m better than her
31 | BRING HER BACK🗣️
32 | heart brocken
↳ extra: ask me if i care
33 | i’ll understand
34 | I WAS A LITTLE EMOSH
35 | is it cause i’m too swaggie
36 | imma dawg imma freak
37 | y’all hear sumn😰
38 | ruh oh
39 | liverboy
40 | what if i was suicidal
41 | omg hes fucking french
42 | girl what
↳ extra: i can fix her❤️
43 | virgin with a capital P (+written 0.4k)
44 | in big 20 23
45 | kill you’reself
46 | i hate virgins
47 | we’re breaking up.
48 | the ‘park’ date (+written 0.4k)
49 | YOU CANNY TRICK MEH
50 | i’m gonna eat him
51 | not you lying on my name
52 | back up missy
↳ extra: deez nuts
53 | WELL THATS TOO DAMN BAD
54 | shut up 5’9
55 | /sad
56 | have some shame
57 | elimination
58 | do it No balls.
59 | past tense of see. seew
60 | CIC
↳ extra: random
EP1 | proof or it didn’t happen
EP2 | his ass is NOT studying
EP3 | #SNOWAPPDIE
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copyright © hoonvrs 2023 all rights reserved
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
Text
better late than never
in which uni student fem!reader finally shares exactly what she's been worried about with spencer
18+ for pregnancy scare warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, reader doesn't want to be pregnant, age gap (unspecified) a/n: listennn lots of you guys asked for more spence x uni reader... but u didn't specify WHAT u wanted... so now we're fantasizing about pregnancy scares because we're all what?? say it with me!! MENTALLY ILL!!!!
For the fifth time, you have to restart the paragraph you were reading. For the fifth time, it doesn’t make any sense—words strung together like clashing beads on a dancing string, blurred together by the tears you’ve been fighting all day. Anthropology is by far the easiest of the six classes you’re taking this quarter, but suddenly completing this routine assignment feels like scaling a mountain. It is, of course, nothing in comparison to the catalytic source of your immense stress. The thing you’ve been trying to ignore for nearly a week, and as a result, have become more and more obsessive about. 
A flare of rage overwhelms you and you slam your laptop shut. Then as quickly as it appeared, it dissipates, cooling to desolation as you bury your face in your hands with a sob. You hear paper shuffling from the desk where Spencer has been silently working and you try to reign in your emotions, but it’s too late. 
“Hey,” he says gently as he approaches, slowing to a stop in front of your spot on the couch. “What’s going on with you?”
You sniff, quickly brushing the tears away with trembling hands. But your voice is thick and strained when you fruitlessly attempt to lie. 
“Nothing.”
When you refuse to look up at him, he kneels down in front of you. 
“Really? This doesn’t have anything to do with why you’ve been so quiet these past few days?”
Of course, he noticed. You were a fool for thinking he wouldn’t. Finally you break, looking to him for subconscious comfort. And he’s looking up at you so earnestly, with so much genuine concern in those puppy dog eyes, that the waterworks threaten to start up all over again. Your lip quivers. 
“I can’t tell you,” you squeak. 
“That’s a really scary thing for me to hear. Do you understand why?” His voice is calm, carefully grabbing your hand and bringing to his heart. “Because I need to know if something happened to you.”
You shake your head tearfully, looking down at where you’re weakly grasping the front of his shirt. 
“‘s not like that,” comes your reedy whisper. “Nobody hurt me or anything, I just—I don’t want you to get mad at me.”
“I won’t get mad, I won’t,” he promises desperately, “right now I just want to know what I can do to make this better. I hate seeing you like this.”
A shuddering sigh forces its way out of your lungs. You suppose this is the kind of thing you probably should tell your boyfriend about, as petrifying as it may be.  
“I don’t know, I… I’ve just been freaking the fuck out because I’m worried I’m pregnant, and this would be the worst possible timing—like I know I want kids one day but I’m still in college and you’re like a real adult with an adult career and I don’t want to fuck that up for you and I know that even if I am pregnant I have choices but that’s still so scary and… and I don’t know.”
You’re expecting a long pause, punctuated by some berating and bemoaning, but it never comes. Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Honey, this is exactly the kind of thing you tell me about,” he says, voicing your earlier thoughts. And he doesn’t even sound furious. You glance up, watching his visage swim beyond your teary eyes. “I am not mad. That wouldn’t make any sense. Do you know who’s fault it would be if you accidentally got pregnant?”
“Well—"
“Mine. So if this ever happens again, please don’t keep it to yourself for so long. I won’t be mad at you for something like this, ever.”
“But… you’re not worried?”
He shakes his head slowly, looking utterly unperturbed. 
“I wouldn’t be worried either way. But no, I’m not concerned that you’re pregnant. We’re really safe. The chances of you being pregnant are essentially negligible.”
“But I’m two weeks late.”
“That can happen when you’re taking six upper level classes,” he agrees, swiping your cheek with a thumb. “You’re under a lot of stress. I’m completely unsurprised that your body is reacting to it.”
A weight like a ton of bricks is lifted from your shoulders, but doubt still lingers. 
Spencer sees the hesitation in your eyes. 
“Would it make you feel better to take a test? Just in case?”
You nod gingerly, wrapping your hand around his wrist. He takes it in both of his, kissing the back before dropping them to your lap. 
“Okay. I’ll go get a couple. But I’m confident that you have nothing to worry about, and I’m usually right about these things.”
You take another deep breath, the last of the anxiety floating away with it. He’s usually right about everything. 
“Spence?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing your palm with his thumb and looking at you with so much love in his eyes. 
“Do you maybe feel like doing my homework for me?”
He smiles. 
“Nice try. Get it done and we can go out for dinner, okay?”
“Always worth a shot,” you shrug. 
He laughs, shaking his head as he stands. 
“And the answer will always be no.”
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star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
She Calls Me Baby
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader
—-
synopsis: college au, in which you slowly realize something is wrong with your girlfriend.
a/n: love this song. had to do it sorry. anyways this sucks actual BALLS but idc i just have to write something or else i will lose my empire and title as mother of clarisse tumblr ☹️
Jackie and Wilson - Hozier
warnings: NOT BETA READ, im sure this is so discombobulated but IDC!!!!!! anyways, swearing, mentions of death and the usual demigod stuff, mentions of monsters, idk pretty chill…, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Your favorite story Clarisse ever told you is the one about soulmates.
She told it to you in the dark, in her bed, hand on the side of your face as she whispered to you like you were secret lovers.
She told you that humans once had two heads and four arms, but Zeus thought they would grow to be too powerful and split them apart. Hearts split in two, detained to roam the earth, trying to find each other.
That’s how it feels with Clarisse- like you’ve known her for years, like your bodies were born of the same speck of dust, souls grew next to each other, fires inside of you burning in the same altar for a hundred years before you met.
Clarisse approached you fast- hard and unrelenting like a hurricane. She wanted whatever she could take from you, love, comfort, a one-night.
It scared her when you wanted to give.
It was kind of crazy how easily the two of you just fit together, crazy how you both liked some things, both hated things, hated something things she liked and nice versa. It was like there was this natural balance between you, everything sort of cosmically weighed out- and it just felt so right to be with her that everything else faded away.
But it was clear that Clarisse fell head over heels for you, the way she would smile and just tell you that you were so different, so much better than her. You were everything she wasn’t, and she resented you so much for it she loved you.
You weren’t exactly sure why Clarisse loved you so much- maybe it was the way you respect her past, maybe it was the way you didn’t push- you just accepted the crazy and tried your best to save her with what little information you did have. It surprised her and you when you became the one to get greedy, to take from her, but you knew she loved the feeling of being wanted.
But lately, Clarisse has been particularly… off. It’s not exam season, so you can’t chalk it up to that. And she’s the most talented player on the field hockey team, you’ve seen her play- she’s overconfident and for good reason. She has no reason to be stressed there, unless somethings changed.
But something tells you it’s not that.
The first real concrete clue you ever got was when you first met her.
The library is where you met Clarisse. The one closest to your dorm hall, the one that’s two floors and built like an out-of-place Greek temple- it always makes you smile when Clarisse gives it a dirty look, trying to persuade you to go to any other library. It doesn’t make sense to you- why go to the one all the way across campus when this one is only a five minute walk?
She always seems on edge when she meets you in here, but she bites it back and won’t tell you no matter how much you ask. She says it’s just a weird thing she has, hard to explain, so you let it go when she clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she smiles, pulling out the chair next to you. She glances around the library, not nervously, but observant. Ready, waiting. She’s always been able to do that- scan an entire room in seconds and find out everything.
“Hi,” you smile, stretching as you push your books away from you, grateful for the distraction her brown eyes and sweet voice provide.
She picks up a textbook you’ve pushed off to the side. She scoffs at the title, mumbling about how she still doesn’t know why you would choose the major you did.
“How was practice?” you ask, choosing to ignore her remarks in favor of soaking up her attention and the much needed distraction.
“Boring,” she hums, rubbing her foot up and down your leg, head in her hands. “Freshmen are pissin’ me off, they don’t know shit. Coach has to teach them all the basics over again.”
You lay your head on a thick textbook, staring up at her. “The freshmen are always shitty. Then you love them by the end of the year.”
“I don’t,” she huffs, but some of her favorite members of the team are the freshmen she hated her sophomore year. “Whatever. It’s different, they all suck. Shouldn’t be here.”
“Sure,” you say, yawning again.
“Okay, did you not sleep last night?” she chuckles.
You shrug sheepishly, Clarisse is always so adamant you sleep and eat enough, but sometimes you have to sacrifice the little things for your grades.
“I had a test this morning, stayed up a little later cramming.”
“Uh-huh, so, like, until 1 in the morning? Worse?”
You hold your breath, sitting up as you conveniently look away from her. “3,” you exhale.
She smiles and puts a piece of hair behind your ear.
“But,” you smile, sensing the lecture. “After these five questions, I can be all yours for the rest of the day.”
She pretends to weigh her options.
“Well, I do like the sound of that.”
—-
The second clue is the way she always seems like she’s running away from something.
Your rooms are blessedly only a few doors down from each other, so someone is always sneaking into someone else’s and your roommates have both learned to deal with it.
Silena, Clarisse’s roommate, only greets you with a smile as you sheepishly slip past her in the mornings- Clarisse’s shirt haphazardly slipped over you.
So, on this day, you’re slumped in bed while Clarisse promises to take care of you, and you’re all too happy to let her.
She’s already spent the last hour lying with you in bed, letting you sleep on top of her- forcing you to catch up on some much needed hours of rest with her soft voice in your ear and hand trailing up your back.
She only got up when you mentioned you were hungry, immediately suggesting the idea of ordering from your favorite restaurant, refusing to be swayed by you back into your warm bed.
So, here you were, scrolling on your phone while you waited for the click of the door and the smell of hot food. And it comes, you prepare to make some quip about how dare she leaves you for almost a half hour.
Her keys jangle in her hands as she quickly shuts the door, turning around and pressing her back against it. She breathes out, heavily, before her eyes meet yours and she studies the shocked and confused look on your face.
“Ran up the stairs,” she smiles, leaving her keys and wallet on top of your dresser, dropping the bag of food on your bed before she goes to the window, peeking out of it. “Didn’t want my princess waiting for too long,” she chuckles.
You don’t even look at the bag of food in front of you. You reach out and grab her hand, and she flinches, but pulls away from the window and into your touch.
“Clarisse,” you breathe, and panic flashes in her eyes as she quickly rips open the bag.
“C’mon, don’t let it get cold.”
“Clar… baby,”
“Wanna watch a movie? Or play a game? Anything you want, sweetheart, jus’ say the word.”
—-
The third clue is the fact that you’re 99% sure she’s seeing things.
It sounds horrible to say, and sometimes late at night when she’s asleep against you, you wonder what the hell you’re supposed to do. You’ve only met her mom a few times, never met her father- Silena and her have been friends for years, but you still feel like it all falls to you.
It doesn’t, legally, maybe not even morally- but she’s your girlfriend. You should know what she wants, you should be able to advocate for her when she can’t.
So, the best thing you can think to do it ignore it. You pretend it doesn’t concern you, you pretend you don’t see it, you pretend because you can’t even think about the idea of her not being her, of her being away from you.
You focus on the moment.
You love these walks with Clarisse, her hand warm in yours. It was moments like these where you felt like Clarisse was your sun. Yes, the setting sun was warm against your back, but nothing made you feel alive like Clarisse did. Your hands swing together, hitting your hip, and she seamlessly switches from your hand to wrapping at arm around your waist.
You smile at her, cheeks hot. You go to adjust your bag as a means of distracting yourself, but your hand awkwardly ends up floating in the air when you realize Clarisse took your bag when she picked you up from your last class.
As if sensing the awkwardness, she hikes the tote bag farther up her shoulder.
“What’re your plans today, pretty girl?”
You hum, feeling so at ease with the way she calls you that pet name, with the way she squeezes you closer to her.
“Well, I finished my big project yesterday, don’t really have anything else to do, so I was just gonna chill. What ‘bout you?”
“Ugh,” she groans. “I have practice until 8. But I’ll come over after? And spend the night?”
You smile, laughing softly.
“I don’t know why you even ask anymore.”
“It’s polite,” she smiles. “I’m a very polite person, only when it comes to you.”
“I’ll see you at 8:15, huh?”
“Obviously,” she huffs, kissing your temple. Again, you feel like cheeks heat like this is the first day you met her. It’s embarrassing to be affected by her so much, but it’s also so sweet. Only she can draw out these reactions from you, this potent all these months later. It still feels like the first day with her sometimes, but you also feel like you’ve known her for years.
She bites her lip and hisses a curse word under her breath.
“What?” you ask, snapped out of the way she holds you so perfectly, following her eye line. She stares firmly in between two cars, but there’s nothing there.
“Nothing,” she says, not taking her eyes away from that spot- not even blinking, you realize after a second. She hides the way she gets, that unrelenting focus like when she’s playing in a game, with a laugh.
“Thought I saw that bitch from my 11am.” You look at her. You don’t believe her. She knows you don’t. And it breaks your heart that something is clearly happening, and you can’t force yourself to feel bad for ignoring it, and you can’t force her to tell you. “C’mon, let’s go.”
She moves to hold your hand and drags you off forcefully toward the direction of the entrance. She squints, almost like she’s driving off something with her mind.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, squeezing her hand, feeling unsettled just by the way she’s so clearly ready for a fight. It’s like she can see something you can’t.
She risks a small glance at you, a normal looking smile.
“It’s all good, baby. I’ve got you,” she smiles, reaching back like she’s stretching, but something where there’s nothing glints in the sunlight.
—-
The fourth clue is the fight with Silena.
She asked you to meet her at her dorm, wear something nice and pretty, and you’ll go out for a nice dinner and some ice cream. She’s been so busy with practice lately, it makes your entire body squeeze the way she jumps to spend time with you at the first off day she gets.
You smooth down your pretty top, the one you know you look good in, the one you know she likes. You’re about to knock on the door when you realize it’s been left open, just a crack. That’s when their voices rise, enough so you can hear them.
“It different now, Clar!”
“It’s. Not. It’s not different, it will never be different, nothing will ever change.”
“Before, Clarisse, when you told me you had this crush on the girl in your econ class, I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t care. But, Gods, Clarisse, anyone can see it’s different. She’s not just some girl, she’s your girl, your girlfriend, and you’re totally in love with her.”
“I know that,” she huffs. “I’m the one who’s actually in love with her. I love her, and I know her. I know what’s best for her.”
“And she’s in love with you too, Clarisse.”
She laughs. “I would hope so.”
“It’s different, Clarisse. It’s been different for a while, and I didn’t say anything because I thought you would notice. But you haven’t.”
“Fuck, Silena, please. Please, just stop. I’m not puttin’ her through that. I’m not putting myself through that again. I’m not that girl anymore. I am not my father’s daughter.”
“It never goes away, Clar.”
Silena’s voice is quiet, hesitant. Clarisse has confessed to you her struggles with her emotions all her life, particularly anger. Half the reason her mother sent her to that camp she always talks about was because she had such bad anger issues. But she worked through them, and you know she’s different now, she has healthy outlets and ways to cope.
But still, Silena seems scared.
“Shut the fuck up.”
You hear her walking towards you and quickly step back, smoothing your face out into a blank slate, tempted to hit yourself in the head to forget what you just heard.
The door swings open, and she smiles immediately when she sees you.
“Y/N,” she says, sticking her keys into her pocket. You force yourself to do your best smile. “Oh, baby, you look so pretty.”
“Thank you,” you smile, letting her wrap her arms around you, letting her press a soft kiss against your lips.
—-
Clarisse made you laugh all night, made you smile, made you wonder how you ever got this far in life without her. She paid for your dinner and ushered you out of the restaurant, chuckling about how you drove her crazy and she just wanted you now-
Until she walked you to your car, opened the passenger door for you- suddenly shoving you inside and pushing the door softly closed, as much as she could get it with your foot still hanging out.
“Clarisse!” you shout, but she’s already appeared in the driver’s seat next to you, ushering you inside, reaching over and shutting the car door. She locks them with a satisfying click, finally letting her shoulder’s sink down. “What the fuck?” you huff.
“Sorry,” she smiles, hands squeezing the steering wheel. “It was the weirdest thing, a squirrel ran right over my foot, I got so freaked out…” she smiles, forces a laugh, but you only look at her unimpressed.
“Clarisse,” you sigh, letting your hands fall to your sides in defeat. “What’s going on? Please?”
She opens her mouth, then closes it.
“Just let me drive home,” she had said, and now you’re home, leading her into your dorm and she presses her back against the door.
You put your hands on her shoulders and she puts hers on your hips, she can’t look at you and you do your best to meet her eyes.
“Clarisse,” you say, a silent beg that all your suspicions are wrong, and everything and fine and she still loves you, she’s still your girlfriend.
“I’m not ready to tell you,” she rushes out. Her fingertips dig into your skin. “I’m not ready, okay? I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
“T-that’s okay,” you say after a moment. “It’s okay. I just… you can tell me, when you’re ready. I’m just scared, I don’t know why this is happening, you’re being so different-”
She hugs you and puts her face into your neck.
“Please, Y/N,” she breathes, shaky breath tickling your neck. “I love you so much. I love you more than anything, just let that be enough, please.”
You hugs you quick and hard, and you’re so shocked by it that you almost take a step back. But you can’t, really, not with her arms so tight, so right around you. And once you realize it’s just your Clarisse, you coo softly and put your hand in her hair, the other around her shoulders.
“Of course it’s enough, baby. Of course, I just want you to know that I’m here… I’m here…”
You run your hand through her hair and she exhales.
“I know, I know it’s not perfect, but you’re all I have. You’re all I have, Y/N, just be here with me, please.”
“I will,” you breathe. “I will.”
Your mind is swirling with more questions than answers, but Clarisse asks you to call her baby again and leads you to your bed. And you do, you call her baby and tell her you love her.
And the realization comes slowly, but once it comes it feels so right.
You don’t know what’s going on with Clarisse. All you have are incoherent clues strung together, but you realize you don’t care. You love Clarisse more than you’re scared of a little crazy.
And you tell her that as she lays on top of you, and she simply takes her face out of your neck, the faintest hint of tears welling in her eyes.
“I love you crazy, baby,” you murmur.
She smiles, and you feel like you’re being sucked into the eye of a hurricane.
She lets out a soft breath, like she was scared, so scared- and you’re not sure she’s ever been scared before. But she’s scared of losing you. She’s scared of losing you, and that makes you giddy like a schoolgirl. That makes you love her even more.
“I’m a lot of crazy,” she says, and you can’t tell if she’s joking, but you laugh. You laugh like a hyena, because you love her more than you love yourself.
You want to be the harbor she comes back to each night, you want to be the pillow where she rests her head. You want to be a vault for her secrets and her love. You want to be everything for her and you want to be everything to her.
You don’t believe in Greek myths, but maybe that one about soulmates was right.
—-
taglist:
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zombieunicorngamerzu · 6 months
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(Yandere Yellowjackets/Reader)
[Warnings - yandere behavior, Van, Lottie, and Natalie have girlcocks, CNC, penetration, anal, oral, fingering, orgy, creampies, smut]
Ever since the crash, you felt like things changed between you and the team. It was like a switch was flipped and the other girls just went full on Mama bear mode, and not just the Overprotectiveness, but the Clinginess, it got bad. You were the youngest on the Yellowjackets College Soccer Team, only eighteen while the others were either nineteen or twenty with The oldest being Lottie, Natalie, and Taissa, the three of them were twenty.
You knew you were young, you thought Mabye that’s why the team was so overprotective over you, but it got to the point where they babied you. Way too much. Lottie was the most overbearing, well besides Misty, Misty was another level. Both Misty and Lottie insisted on doing everything with you, to bathing you, feeding you, going with you to use the restroom, all you wanted was a ounce of private time, but when you finally got away from one girl, there another was. You felt like they were suffocating you.
“Look, guys I just need to be left alone, please.” You pleaded with Van, Lottie, Taissa, Natalie, Shauna, and Misty, all of them sitting in their spots looking at you so hurt. Lottie stood up first, speaking softly, “Look, baby, we know you want to do things on your own, but we have to keep you safe.” You just shook your head, “No! You won’t even let me go outside alone, your driving me crazy.” Your words really stung everyone, all they tried to do was protect and love you, but all they felt was rejection. Lottie just stepped closer, her arms outstretched, “Baby… just- just let us show you how much we care about you…”
You just shook your head with a hateful glare, you couldn’t stay cooped up in the cabin being babied any longer. You were an adult, so you did what you wanted, you stormed out the door. You didn’t get far at all, Van immediately rushing after you and picking you up by your waist as you flailed, she just grunted and brought you back inside, “Yup, sorry babygirl, but no.” You we’re throwing a fit by the time Van placed you back in front of Lottie who stood with her arms crossed and a scary stern look across her face, “Better after your little fit, baby?”
You just glared and did the only thing you thought, you spit on her. It shocked everyone. You regretted it immediately as soon as you saw Lotties eyes darken and her jaw clench, the others looking scared for you as Lottie shot forward, grabbing you by your neck and forcing you into submission in front of her, her face looming over yours as she spoke in a growl, “I have been nothing but kind and loving and supportive ever since we crashed, I’ve been here for you, taken care of you, and you spit it my face?!”
You couldn’t stop but whimper in fear and regret now, “Lottie I’m sorry-“ She cut you off with a shake or her head, “No, your gonna be a good girl now, you fucking understand?” She growled out as she kicked the back of your knees, forcing you to kneel as she pulled your chin up, “Your gonna take everything we fucking give you without a fucking fight and your gonna fix this goddamn bratty attitude or I swear to god… “ she knelt down to your level, “I will fuck you for days until your a sobbing begging mess for the “nice me” back.”
You just nodded with a whimper, your breathes quick, you’d never seen Lottie so pissed before, it scared you shitless, so you just nodded, watching as she undid her pants, pulling out her cock which was already hard for you while the others watched. “Open your mouth.” She ordered a little softer, cupping your chin while you nodded and parted your lips for her to nudge her cock inside, feeling her length immediately slid to the back of your throat as she moaned, “There’s the good girl I want…” Lottie sighed out as she threaded her fingers in your hair to soothe you while pumping her cock inside your mouth, drool spilling down your chin as you took her down your throat. It didn’t take Lottie long before she was cumming down your throat, her grip on your hair tight before she pulled you off her cock.
She stepped back to let you catch your breath while she undressed, speaking out to everyone, “Everyone strip, we’re gonna show our babygirl why she needs us… and what she gets when she decides to be such a fucking brat.” There was immediate movement as soon as she spoke, everyone listening as Lottie knelt down and helped you undress, kissing your head to calm you as she spoke, “Shh baby, I promise we won’t hurt you,” she caresses your cheek, “We’re just gonna take care of you like we should have a long time ago.”
You just swallowed out of anxiety as you looked over at the others, Taissa already jerking Van off as they kissed, occupied with one another while Shauna was sitting with Nat, the two of them watching you like hawks and Misty who looked elated to just look at you, her hand already in her pants, biting her lip with a blush. Lottie just smirked at Misty, nodding her over which she gladly did, coming over and immediately straddling you, kissing you quick and fiery, making you Yelp at how rushed she was.
Misty was quick, passionate, she was so excited just to touch you as she ground down on your thigh, she was wet and she just wanted to touch you, “Fuck, oh my god, your so pretty, don’t worry, I’ll be gentle… I’ll get you ready for the others.” She smiled before pushing you to lay down, kneeling down between your thighs quickly, spreading your thighs open to bury her face between your thighs, she moaned, getting her first taste of you and she was lost, eating you out like she was starving before her fingers were pushing inside you to find your gspot, she sucked on your clit roughly while curling her finger against your gspot quickly, Misty was surprisingly just a fiery bundle of excitement and pleasured, she focused on you until you came and you swore Misty came in her panties just from getting to make you cum.
You were almost sad when she pulled away but you didn’t get much time to be sad before you were roughly manhandled by Natalie, feeling her hands rolling you onto your tummy and her breasts on your back as she husked in your ear, “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna fuck you so good your gonna scream.” She just chuckled with a smirk before shoving her cock inside you, making you scream out, you were wet, but she just shoved it in, being rough to the point Lottie voiced out, “Gentle… Natalie, don’t break her.” Nat just chuckled as she dug her nails into your hips, jackhammering her hips into your ass harder, pinning you down, “What if I wanna break her?” Lottie glared at her immediately from her spot which made Natalie roll her eyes, but she did slow down, you were whining and crying already from how sensitive you felt.
Natalie just smiled and slapped your ass, making you squeal and clench around her cock, causing her to groan, her voice husky, “That’s a good fucking girl, taking my cock like this…” she just grunted before reaching down to rub your clit, quickening her thrust as she moaned out, “Now cum on my cock so I can fill you up.” Her words made your eyes widen, groaning out louder at how rough she was fucking you, you could feel her cock slamming deeper inside you, her fingers rubbing your clit rougher which made you build up your orgasm quickly, screaming out as you came around her cock which made her cry out as she slammed into you, spurting hot heavy loads of cum inside you with a groan before slapping your ass and pulling out, leaving you trembling as she ruffled your hair and walked off.
“Christ Nat, how about manners? Some fucking decency?” Taissa spoke out, practically appalled with Natalie just leaving you trembling on the cold floor, you felt Taissa’s hands as she helped you up, pulling you to her chest as she kissed your head, “Van, get some pillows and blankets.” Was all you heard before feeling yourself being laid on a much more comfortable surface, Taissas hands rubbing your tummy and thighs gently while Van just crawled over with a kiss to your knee, “Hey babygirl.” Van smiled as she sat next to you, Taissa putting a pillow under your head as she nodded at Van who settled between your thighs, “Go slow, Van.”
Van just nodded at Taissa’s order, moaning softly as she pressed the head of her cock slowly inside you while rubbing your thighs to help you relax. Both Taissa and Van just seemed more focused on your comfort, they weren’t rushed or rough, they were patient and gentle, focusing on you as Van slowly worked her cock into you, making you moan softly, your eyes fluttering at the feeling, her slow movements felt so much better and Van smiled with pride at the pleasured softer moans you let out, leaning down to kiss your nose as she slowly sped up, making you let out the cutest whine, causing Taissa to shiver, biting her lip as she touched herself and used her free hand to keep your hair out of your eyes. It was a slower buildup to your orgasms, the three of you, but when Van finally got to the point of speeding up her thrusts, breathes shaky as she held your thighs to your chest, sinking her cock in deep as she held your thighs, groaning out loudly, she came inside you, her cock twitching as she made sure to pump in deep so you took every drop.
“God, she’s so perfect.” Van husked out breathlessly as she slowly pulled out, being careful not to hurt you before she leaned down to give you a tender kiss, “Your doing so good baby… so good.” She praised you and it made your heart sing, you really didn’t want Van and Taissa to be done, but they got up, making you whimper before Shauna made her way over, shushing you, “Shh baby, I promise I’m not that scary.” She just gave you a reassuring smile, leaning down to kiss down your stomach before settling between your thighs which made you squirm, you felt too sensitive, it felt like torture when she flicked her tongue over your clit, making her giggle as your hips bucked, “Thats it baby, take what I give you.” She just smiled before attaching her lips to your clit. Gods… Shauna must have known you we’re spent from everyone else, so she just cleaned you up with her tongue mostly, her hands gently rubbing your shaking thighs as she slurped at your pussy, working you to another exhausting but enjoyable orgasm as you came on her tongue.
Shauna carefully let you go after feeling you cum, tasting you was enough for her right now, sitting back to get up and watch as Lottie made her way back over again, you hoped she was the last one. Lottie must have seen how exhausted you were because she just crawled over you, kissing you sweetly with a soft shush, “Shh baby, I know… you did so well, just have to take me now baby, then your done.” She husked out before grabbing your thighs, her hands on the backs of your knees as she pushed them up to your chest, angling her cock at your entrance before pushing in with a deep moan, making your thighs tremble as you moaned brokenly, your poor little hole felt used and sensitive, aching around her cock as she started to thrust.
“Good girl baby, god you look so pretty…” Lottie moaned out as she kissed you harder, groaning and panting against your lips before she pulled out quickly, pining your legs higher before jerking her cock off at your tighter hole below, making you wriggle, “L-Lottie, no please- wait-“ Lottie cut you off by pressing the head of her cock into your tight ass, making you scream out as you felt the stretch, gasping so loud as you felt her thick cock pop into your ass, filling you up so much as she slowly started pumping inside you with such eager moans and growls, “Fuck… yes… this fucking ass- yes baby! Oh god- I’m gonna cum!” Lottie whimpered out as she shoved in deeper, her cock twitching as she groaned out, her voice cracking as her eyes squeezed closed, letting out a cry as she shot her load into your tight little hole, moaning sinfully as she felt your tightness around her cock.
You groaned at the feeling, you felt so full and used at this point, whimpering as Lottie slowly pulled out, her tip popping out of your ass as she let your thighs go, letting you relax as you felt her cum dribble out of your ass. Immediately after Lottie helped sit you up, speaking softly to you, “Baby… your ours now, okay? We love you so much babygirl…” All you could do was nod with a soft whimper as Lottie kissed your forehead before everyone was fussing over you yet again, fighting over who would get to help you bathe next.
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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
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Burnt Face and Second Base
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Synopsis: Peter can’t seem to stop accidentally hurting his crush
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Peter opened his locker and hid behind the door so that he could stare at you without detection. All you were doing was printing something off a campus printer, but you made it look like an enchanting performance that had Peter captivated by your every move. Peter had been in college for three months now and found himself pinning for you for most of that time. You hadn’t spoken yet, but he held out for the day that you would.
“Who are you staring at?” Ned asked at full volume, making students passing by look and laugh at Peter.
“Would you keep your voice down? Jesus. Everybody heard that.” Peter whispered harshly and checked to make sure you hadn’t heard Ned. Ned followed Peters gaze and when he saw you, he smiled deviously.
“Oh. I know who you’re looking at.” Ned said as he raised his eyebrows up and down.
“I can’t help it. I love it when she wears her hair like that.” Peter sighed and leaned his cheek against his locker door as he continued to stare at you.
“You say that every day.”
“I know.” Peter sighed again and watched as you flipped your hair over your shoulder. You seemed to move in slow motion as you pulled your hair to one side so you could take a sip from the water fountain. Peter smiled dreamily as he watched you until you accidentally made eye contact. Peter quickly turned around so you wouldn’t see him staring.
“Do you think she ever stares at me?” He asked Ned.
“I think you’d know if she did. You know, since you’re always staring at her.”
“Ugh. You’re totally right. Why won’t she ever look at me?” Peter whined and shot another look at you.
“Have you tried speaking to her?” Ned asked. “Or are you hoping she’ll get the hint through your spider telepathic abilities?”
“Ned, for the last time, I do not have telepathic abilities. If regular spiders aren’t telepathic, then why would I be?”
“You say regular spiders aren’t telepathic with such confidence but how would you know? How do you really know?” Ned asked and shook Peters shoulders.
“Oh my God.” Peter groaned and turned back to look at you. He watched you laugh at something your friend said and wondered how amazing it would feel to be the one making you laugh.
“Do you think it could ever work? Do you think I could ever have a normal relationship with these stupid abilities?” Peter asked quietly as he stared at you.
“They’re not stupid, Peter.” Ned assured him. “I would kill to be telepathic.”
“I’m not telepathic.” Peter groaned and looked down at the web shooter that was peaking out from his sleeve. He knew it was unrealistic that he could ever have a normal relationship and sighed wistfully. Ned looked between you and Peter for a second and felt a pang of guilt of his friend.
“I think it could work. You and her, I mean.” Ned told him.
“You do?” Peter asked skeptically and shut his locker.
“Yeah. I do. Who says your abilities, telepathic or not, have to stop you from having a normal relationship? As long as you treat her right and don’t hurt her, it would work.”
Peter took a second and thought about what Ned had said and wondered if he was right. He’d never admit it to Ned, but the reason he never tried to talk to you wasn’t because he thought being Spiderman and being in a relationship at the same time wouldn’t work. It was because he was scared that the relationship could work, but would fail because of something that Peter did that had nothing to do with Spiderman. It was easy to blame his double life as an excuse not to talk to you instead of admitting that he was scared of messing it up on his own accord. That kept him from ever trying to ask you out but with Neds pep talk, he felt like it was worth a shot. He unlocked his locker again with a plan to write a note to you that he could slip into your backpack as you passed by.
“Thanks for saying that, man. I really hope I could make it work if I ever got the chance. Because I really like this girl. I would never hurt her.” Peter said as he swung his locker back open. He heard a clash, followed by a pained whine. Peter frowned and shut his locker only to find you standing right there with both hands over your nose.
“Y/n?!” Peter gasped in shock when he realized what he had done.
“Ouch.” You winced and pulled your hands away from your nose. Peter watched your eyes widen when you saw the amount of blood that had gushed out of your nose.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.” Peter quickly apologized as he fumbled around his pocket for a tissue.
“Yeah, it really felt that way.” You said as you pinched your nose and tilted your head up to try and stop the bleeding. Peter pulled out a bunch of tissues and gently held them up to your nose as his other hand went to the back of your head. You made eye contact for a minute and you found the look of absolute panic on Peters face to be quite adorable. You smiled a little, but quickly stopped when it made your nose throb angrily.
“Ow.” You flinched and put your hand over Peters to hold the tissues in place. Peter gulped and felt his face flush at the first time the two of you had not only spoken, but made physical contact.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n. Can I take you to the nurse?” Peter offered.
“Yes please.” Your voice came out nasally due to your nose being pinched.
Peter wrapped one arm around you and kept the other on your nose as he walked with you to the campus nurse. He sat with you in the waiting room and gave you a fresh bouquet of tissues to soak up the still flowing blood.
“Is it bad?” You asked him, still not having seen yourself. You had blood all down your face and neck but Peter was not about to tell you that.
“No. It’s not bad.” He said unconvincingly. You gave him a skeptical look and pulled the tissues away to inspect the damage.
“Oh God. That’s a lot of blood.” You gulped when you saw the saturated tissue.
“Is it? I don’t think its that much.” Peter played dumb in an attempt to keep you calm.
“You said it wasn’t bad. I look like I just ate somebody.” You laughed and playfully shoved him.
“I was trying to make you feel better. Your nose looks like that “Can’t Help Myself” robot.” Peter smiled a little now that he had heard you laughing. It felt just as amazing as he imagined and hoped it meant you weren’t mad at him.
“Oh good. That’s my favorite artwork.“ You laughed again and it sent a flush to Peters cheeks.
“It is? That wasn’t too niche of a reference to make?”
“It probably was. But I understood it.” You shrugged. You and Peter looked at each other again as a comfortable silence settled between you. It wasn’t much, but it was a rare moment of feeling seen for the both of you.
“How’d you know my name, by the way? I heard you say it after giving me a face full of locker.” You asked Peter as he switched out your tissues for fresh ones.
“Oh, uh, I asked one of your friends what it was. Gwen told me, I think.” Peter admitted without looking into your eyes.
“You asked her what my name was? Why?” You laughed shyly and anxiously waited for the answer.
“Because I wanted to know it.” Peter said simply as he finally looked into your eyes. Your jaw dropped a little then closed in a smile. No boy had ever sought out your name before, at least not to your knowledge, so you couldn’t help but feel flattered by the gesture.
“Well now I want to know your name. Since you wanted to know mine.” You said with a teasing smile.
“It’s Peter. Peter Parker.”
“Thanks for taking me to the nurse, Peter Parker.” You said, sending shivers down Peters spine with the way you said his name.
“It’s the least I could do after giving you a face full of locker, as you put it.”
You smiled in delight at him using your words from earlier. You looked into each other eyes again but before you could say anything else, the nurse arrived.
“What do we have here?” She asked as she looked at you.
“I hit her with my locker.” Peter sheepishly admitted.
“It was an accident.” You added when you saw the way she looked at Peter. Peter found it sweet that you would jump to his defense after what he did it you.
“Jesus. How hard did you hit her?” The nurse asked as she removed the tissues from your nose to inspect it.
“Not that hard.”
“It was pretty hard.” You mumbled.
The nurse started to feel around your nose, making you wince in pain. You instinctively grabbed Peters hand and squeezed it every time the nurse hurt you. And every time, Peter was a blushing mess.
“Okay. It doesn’t look broken but it’s definitely gonna swell. Let me get some ice.” The nurse smiled sweetly at you and went into her office.
“Hey, at least it’s not broken.” You shrugged and gingerly touched your nose.
“I know. But still. I totally messed up your pretty face because I had to fling my locker open like that. I’m such an idiot.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand since you had yet to let go of his other one. This just further confirmed his theory that he’d mess up your relationship just from being himself.
“You think I’m pretty?” You smiled shyly. Peters eyes flew open when he realized what he said and he had to think fast.
“You don’t?” He scoffed playfully, making your smile grow.
“Well right now I imagine I look like Carrie at the prom. Post pigs blood.”
“Hey, Carrie was hardcore. She was my first crush.” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. Peter smiled proudly at all the times he had been able to make you laugh.
“You’re a little weirdo, aren’t you?” You said, making Peters smile drop. You had meant in in an endearing way, but Peter hadn’t realized that.
“Oh, uh…” He trailed off as he struggled to find something to say. Before he could, the nurse came back.
“Here you go. Keep the ice on it and return it when it’s not cold anymore.” She instructed as she handed you an ice pack.
“Thank you.” You said as you carefully placed it on your nose, flinching from the cold.
“You can stay here for the rest of the period. You and your friend.” The nurse said before leaving you and Peter alone in the waiting room.
“Here. I don’t want your hands to get cold.” Peter said as he took the ice pack from you. He wrapped it in a napkin he had fished out of his backpack before holding it against your nose. The ice pack was more bearable now that it had the napkin buffer so you sighed in relief, all while finding it incredibly sweet that he was holding the ice pack for you so that your hands wouldn’t get cold.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want. I’ll be fine.”
“No way. I’m not leaving you after the crime I committed.” Peter sighed with guilt.
“Thanks.” You chuckled.
“For what? Smashing your face in with my locker?”
“For staying.” You shrugged and gave him another shy smile. Peter felt his face heat up so he pretended to be busy with the ice pack so that he wouldn’t have to look into your eyes.
“It’s the least I could do after hitting you with a metal door at full speed.” He mumbled in embarrassment.
“Yeah. Maybe.” You chuckled, secretly thrilled that he was staying. The two of you made eye contact again as you both wondered if something was happening here.
“So what class are you missing right now?” You asked him.
“Business ethics.”
“Business ethics? What’s that?”
“Fuck if I know. I just switch between different tabs on my laptop until the class is over.” Peter admired honestly, but you laughed thinking it was a joke. Peter felt his relax a little now that he knew you weren’t mad at him.
“What about you? What class are you missing?” He asked you.
“Intro to western art history.”
“Oh. Sounds fun.” Peter laughed sarcastically.
“It’s not. It’s a gen ed requirement. You’re actually doing me a favor by helping me skip it.” You told him.
“I’m glad you see it as a favor because I’ve never been more embarrassed.”
“Please. We’ve all hit someone in the face with a locker before.”
“Have we?” Peter said skeptically.
“Maybe not.” You admitted. “But it’s kinda my fault for standing so close to your locker.”
“Oh yeah. You were really close to my locker.”Peter realized. “Were you gonna come talk to me or something?”
“I honestly can’t even remember.”
“Because I gave you a concussion?” Peter joked it off but felt slightly disappointed that you hadn’t been coming up to talk to him.
“Probably.” You laughed, making Peter laugh as well.
You stayed in the nurses office until your ice pack wasn’t cold anymore and promptly returned to to her. You walked out of the office beside Peter just as the class period was ending.
“So I’ll see you around?” Peter asked hopefully.
“I hope you see me next time. Maybe you’ll open your locker a little slower.” You teased him, making Peter blush.
“Bye, Peter Parker.” You smiled shyly and squeezed his arm.
“Bye, Y/n.” He said softly as you walked away. You looked over your shoulder to wave at him before disappearing behind a building. Peter stood there and sighed as he replayed the entirety of your interaction in his head.
“How’d it go with Y/n? Did she make it?” Ned asked when he caught up with Peter later that day.
“Did she make it? I hit her with a locker, Ned. Not a bullet.”
“Excuse me for asking.” Ned mumbled.
“Sorry. I’m just a little distracted. Y/n called me a weirdo.” Peter recalled with a frown.
“Oh. That’s odd. In a good way or a bad way?”
“I don’t know. Is there a good way to be a weirdo?” Peter sighed, already knowing the answer.
“Maybe she meant it in an endearing way.” Ned offered.
“I hope so. It doesn’t matter anyway. There’s no coming back from hitting her with my locker.”
“Maybe there is. At least now you know you can never embarrass yourself in front of her more than you already did.”
“Oh yeah.” Peter smiled in relief. “You’re right. That takes a lot of the pressure off knowing the worst thing that can happen between us has already happened.”
A week later, Peter and Ned sat in the library as they prepared for an upcoming test. Peter hadn’t seen you since the locker incident and he was starting to worry that he’d completely blown it with you. You seemed to hit it off in the nurses office but now he wondered if you were just being nice and didn’t actually plan on ever speaking to him again.
“Dude, can you toss me my notebook?” Ned requested across the library table
“Which one?” Peter asked and rummaged through Neds backpack.
“The red one.”
“Okay. Heads up.” Peter said and threw the notebook to Ned. Peter had momentarily forgot that he was 10x stronger now from the spider bite so his casually toss ended up sending the notebook flying across the entire library with a perfect spiral. As if in slow motion, you started to walk in the direction of the airborne notebook with your earbuds in. People tried to warn you about the notebook heading your way, but you couldn’t hear anything over your music. Peter looked up just in time to see the notebook hit you in the eye and send you crumpling to the floor.
“Ah!” You called out as you put a hand over your injured eye.
“What?! Where did you even come from?” Peter shrieked in disbelief as he ran to you to help you sit up.
“I was coming to say hi to you.” You said in a pained voice.
“You were?” Peter stopped freaking out for a moment to smile.
“Yeah. Then the Fire Nation attacked.” You winced and took your hand away from your eye. You had a red mark going across your eye and the most bloodshot eye Peter had ever seen, but he tried to keep his face neutral so you wouldn’t freak out.
“That doesn’t look so bad.” He said with a high pitched voice, making you give him an unconvinced look.
“At least you missed my nose this time.” You said with a weak smile.
“I know. But I got you right in the eye. I’m so sorry.” Peter frowned as he helped you get up.
“It’s okay. I got another one.”
“Can I walk you to the nurse?” Peter offered.
“Well I definitely can’t see myself there.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll take you there. Oh geez. I’m so sorry.” He continued to apologize as he wrapped an arm around your waist to help you walk to the nurses office. Peter couldn’t believe that this had happened a second time and knew his chances with you were 100% down the drain now.
“You two again? What happened this time?” The nurse asked when she saw you and Peter entering the office.
“I threw a notebook in her face.” Peter said with a defeated sigh.
“He got me right in the eye.” You said as you took your hand away from your eye.
“He sure did. Let me take a look.” The nurse said as she took a flashlight out of her pocket. It wasn’t painful, but you still grabbed Peters hand for comfort. He blushed at the action and gave your hand a squeeze to let you know he was there.
“Okay. Luckily he didn’t scratch your cornea but this is definitely going to bruise.” The nurse told you.
“Oh. Lovely.” You said sarcastically.
“First I made you bleed and now I gave you a black eye? I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.” Peter said as he looked at you with guilty eyes.
“I don’t know what you can say either.” You shrugged. “I’ve never been in this situation before.”
“Um, black eyes are hot?” Peter offered weakly, making you laugh.
“They better be. What’s next? Are you gonna knock my teeth out?”
“Not on purpose.” Peter replied, making you laugh again. He laughed as well and soon looked into each others eyes as a comfortable silence settled between you. Peter felt the connection he felt the first time he had taken you to the nurses office and smiled shyly until he remembered something you had said.
“Hey, what did you mean the other day when you said I was a weirdo?” He wondered.
“Oh, you remember that? I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I hope you didn’t take it that way. I meant it in a good way.”
“Is there a good way to be a weirdo?” He asked skeptically.
“Of course there is. It’s you.” You said with a sheepish smile. Peter felt himself relax now that he knew you didn’t think he was too weird to talk too.
“Oh. Okay. Cool.” He smiled back just as the nurse came back.
“Here you go. Ice it and bring it back once it’s warm.”
“I know the drill.” You said as you got off the chair.
“I’ll walk you to class.” Peter offered as he held the door for you to leave the nurses office.
“Aw. Thanks.” You smiled as you pressed the ice pack to your eye. You sighed in relief and felt your pain melt away. The hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack bumped into Peters a few times on the walk to your next class but neither of you was bold enough to take the others hand.
“This is my building.” You said with slight disappointment once you reached your class.
“See you around?” Peter asked, hoping you’d make a plan to purposefully see each other.
“Don’t think I’ll be seeing much of anything for a while.” You chuckled and gestured to your eye.
“Right. Sorry again.” Peter apologized.
“It’s all right. Bye, Peter.” You waved and started going up the steps to your building.
“Bye.” Peter waved back, disappointed that you were once again getting away with no plans to see each other in the future. He hoped he’d run into you again soon, without injuring you this time.
The next time you saw each other came sooner than expected when you spotted Peter on line for a coffee shop on campus. You got behind him in line and tapped his shoulder.
“Hey Peter.” You smiled to greet him.
“Hey…” Peter turned around and trailed off when he saw the black eye he had given you.
“What?” You asked and insecurely touched your eye.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. You just look really pretty today. I like your hair like that.” He quickly recovered and tried not to look at the eye.
“Aw, thank you.” You smiled shyly. “I was wondering when I’d see you again.”
“Really? You were?” He asked hopefully.
“Yeah. I felt a little lopsided with just the one black eye. I thought you might want to throw a rock or a brick at me or something to even me out.” You teased him, making him feel a mixture of embarrassment from hurting you and excitement that you had an inside joke now.
“I’m so so sorry about the eye. I feel horrible. I would never hurt a girl or anybody and I-“
“Hey, relax. I’m just teasing you.” You assured him as you gave his arm and gentle squeeze. Peter looked down at your hand on his arm and felt his entire face turn pink.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He laughed timidly.
“I actually think the black eye makes me look hardcore. Like Carrie.”
“My first crush. You remembered.” Peter smiled in surprise.
“I did. Because it’s the weirdest first crush I’ve ever heard.” You laughed at him.
“Oh yeah? Who was your first crush?”
“The pizza boy in Home Alone.” You shrugged.
“What?” Peter laughed. “That’s way more obscure and weird than mine.”
“No way. The pizza boy from Home Alone didn’t kill anybody with his mind.”
“That we know of.” Peter corrected, making you laugh and lean into him. Peter felt his face warm up from the physical contact and was shocked at how well your conversation was going.
“Let me buy your drink to make up for the black eye. And the bloody nose. And whatever else I end up doing to you.” Peter offered when you moved to the front of the line.
“You really don’t have to do that.”
“I insist.”
“Aw. What a gentleman.” You laughed shyly and squeezed his arm out of appreciation.
“Together or separate?” The cashier asked after you and Peter ordered.
“Together.” Peter answered before shooting you a wink. You winked back and stepped to the side as you waited for your drinks. Soon enough, Peter was handed his hot chocolate you were handed your matcha.
“Thank you for paying. That was really sweet.” You said as you clinked your drink against his.
“Thanks for continuing to speak to me after I gave you a black eye.” Peter replied, making you laugh.
“What are you drinking anyway?” He wondered and nodded towards your cup.
“Matcha. Have you ever had it?”
“No. That’s the green one right?”
“Yeah, the green one.” You chuckled. “You want to try it?”
The thought of putting his lips where yours had been made Peters face flush and he nodded eagerly.
“Yeah. Sure.” He tried not to sound as excited as he felt as he accepted the cup. Peter took a big sip of the drink and was instantly met with a burning hot sensation on his tongue. He instinctively spit the drink out, which spewed hot matcha latte all over your face. Peter slapped his hand over his mouth while you scrunched your face from the hot liquid hitting you.
“Oh my God! I’m sorry! It was hot!” Peter quickly explained as he grabbed a bunch of napkins.
“I can tell.” You said dryly as you wiped the matcha out of your eyes.
“Let me help. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it would be that hot.” Peter apologized profusely as he dabbed your face clean with his wad of napkins.
“Yep. Hot drinks tend to be hot.” You smiled sarcastically as you wiped the matcha off your clothes.
“Oh no. I got it all over you. Let me help.” Peter offered and started to dab the stain he had made on your shirt. He put a hand on you to keep you steady as he dabbed at a particular large stain.
“Uh, Peter-“
“I can’t believe this keeps happening. I’m really so sorry.” He cut you off.
“Peter, can you just-“
“I swear I’m not doing this to you on purpose. It just seems like no matter what I do, I end up hurting you or burning you or-“
“Peter, can you get your hand off my boob?” You cut in, making Peter freeze. His eyes slowly moved to his hand and he realized that he had placed it directly on your boob. His eyes then went to his other hand, which had been wiping at your other boob to get the matcha off. Peter immediately held up his hands and took a step back from you.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. My hand, I didn’t-“
“It’s fine. You didn’t realize. It’s okay.” You cut him off to spare the embarrassment for the both of you.
“Oh my God. Oh God, I am so sorry. I didn’t even notice.“ Peter pan kicked and gripped his hair with his hands.
“You didn’t notice that your hand was on my boob?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Not that you’re flat!” Peter quickly explained. “I’m not saying you’re flat at all. You have really nice boobs. Not that I stare at them. But I felt them! But not on purpose. I was just trying to get the matcha off of you and I totally groped you. Right after spitting hot liquid in your face. Oh god. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Really. I know it wasn’t on purpose. Just like all our other encounters weren’t on purpose.” You chuckled as you finished cleaning yourself up.
“Can I walk you to the nurse?” Peter offered weakly.
“I think I’ll be fine. I’m not sure she can do much for a burnt face and second base.” You shrugged, making Peters face turn bright red.
“I totally didn’t mean to go to second base on you. We haven’t even gone to first base yet.”
“Yet?” You raised an eyebrow, making Peter cover his mouth with both his hands.
“Not that I’m expecting anything from you! I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it more in a “no, not like this” kinda way like in New Girl season 2 episode 15 titled Cooler. That’s what I meant.” Peter said all in one breath.
“That’s the episode when Nick and Jess kiss, right?” You smiled shyly when you realized he was implying that he wanted to kiss you in the longest and strangest way possible.
“Damn. You really get my weird references.” Peter said, mostly to himself.
“Such a weirdo.” You chuckled. “Thanks for the matcha. And for the feel up.”
Peters burned a hot pink as you waved and walked away from him. Even after two embarrassing moments in a row, you were still being nice to him. If he didn’t know any better, he almost believed you liked him back.
A few days later, Peter sat on a bench on campus as he waited for Ned. He hadn’t spoken to you since the matcha incident, something he had still not been able to think about without it cringing. He didn’t want to hurt you again, but on the event of it happening again, he hoped he’d get your number next time.
“The vending machine is all out of Sprite so I had to get Mountain Dew. Do you know what flavor this even is?” Ned complained as he sat down on the bench with a can of Mountain Dew in hand.
“I don’t know. Mountain?” Peter shrugged.
“Interesting.” Ned looked at the can with a newfound respect before taking a sip.
“Well?” Peter wondered about the verdict.
“It’s definitely mountain flavored.” Ned nodded and took another sip.
“Ugh. I hate these shoes. The laces are way too long so they’re always untied.” Peter whined when he saw his untied shoelace lying on the ground.
“That one’s untied too.” Ned said once Peter tied his shoe.
“It is?” Peter asked and stuck his foot out to check. As fate would have it, you were walking by right as he stuck his foot out. You tripped over Peters foot and landed on the ground with a hard thud. Peter heard the noise but was scared to look down, having a sinking suspicion that it was you who he had just tripped.
“Please tell me that wasn’t-“
“Ow.” You groaned from the floor, cutting Peter off.
“Oh no. How does this keep happening?” Peter asked the sky before looked down to see you. Your face was scratched from the fall and you had a leaf stuck in your hair.
“Hey Peter. Nice to see you again.” You smiled weakly as you rolled over on the pavement.
“You too.” He nodded. “Is that a new top?”
“It is. I’m kinda whatever about it.” You said waved your hand back and forth.
“It’s nice. I like the sleeves.”
“So do I.” You smiled and held up your arm to admire the lacy sleeves of your shirt.
“Cool, cool. So um, did you ankle always bend that way?” Peter asked and nervously flicked his eyes to your ankle. You prompted yourself up on your elbows and looked down to see your ankle bending the wrong direction.
“Not that I was aware of.” You shrugged, the pain not hitting you yet. Peter immediately got down on the floor to help you sit up.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you walking by. I’m gonna take you to the nurse.”
“What else is new?” You mumbled as Peter slipped an arm around you.
“Here. I got you.” Peter said and lifted you off the ground with ease. He carried you bridal style in the direction of the nurses office.
“Is this really necessary?” You whispered when you noticed the other students staring at you and Peter.
“Yes. You shouldn’t put any weight on it until you know it’s not broken.”
“I guess so.” You shrugged and stayed silent for the rest of the walk. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but being carried made you feel like a princess that had just been rescued from a tower. It was cliche and outdated, but it made you feel special. You looked up at Peter before resting your head in the crook of his neck, your way of silently thanking him for carrying you. Peter gulped at the action but felt too flustered to say anything to you.
“Hey.” Peter timidly announced his arrival as he carried you into the nurses office.
“Be fucking for real.” The nurse said and put her hands on her hips.
“She tripped over my-“
“I don’t even want to hear it.” She held up a hand. “Put her down while I get some ice.”
“Thank you.” You called as the nurse disappeared into the back. Peter carefully set you down in a chair and took his backpack off his back to give you something to rest your foot on.
“Make sure to keep her foot…” The nurse trailed off when she saw that Peter had already done what she was about to say.
“Elevated.” She finished. “Good. Let me take a look, baby.”
You gripped Peters hand as the nurse inspected your ankle and winced every few seconds from the pain. This was definitely the worse injury Peter had caused thus far and he could not feel worse about it. He squeezed your hand tightly before putting his other hand around it.
“You’re lucky this isn’t broken. It’s just twisted. I’m gonna give you this splint and some crutches. In the mean time, ice it and keep your weight off of it.” The nurse instructed as she wrapped your foot and placed it in a splint.
“Okay.” You nodded to let her know you understood.
“And do me a favor?” She asked with a smily.
“Yeah. Anything.”
“Stay away from each other.” Her smile dropped. “You’re clearly each other bad luck charm or something. How many more signs from the universe do you need before you realize you shouldn’t be around each other?”
You and Peter sat in silence as the nurse got up and left the room. You were both wondering if what she said was true because deep down, you’d both even thinking the same thing.
“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Peter said after a beat of silence.
“You have to stop apologizing, Peter. It was an accident. They were all accidents.”
“I can’t stop apologizing. I’m sorry I can never be normal around you. Every interaction we have ends with you getting hurt because of something I did. It’s probably better that I just stay away from you for the rest of college. Which I really don’t want to do but if it keeps you safe from me, it might be the best option. So if this is our last encounter, just know that I really am sorry for all of it. I would never hurt you on purpose. I don’t know how it happened so many times. The universe must hate me or something. Or maybe it hates you. Anyways, I just have this big stupid crush on you but for some reason, I can’t stop hurting you.” Peter sighed and looked down at the ground.
“You have a big stupid crush on me?” You asked as a smile tugged at your lips. Peter perked up when he heard the hope in your voice. He looked up at you and saw that you looked happy about his confession.
“The biggest and the most stupid.” He admitted, making your smile grow.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him.
“Well most of our interactions happen in this room after I’ve severely injured you so it never really felt like a good time.” Peter laughed dryly.
“Yeah. Maybe not.” You agreed. “But at least I know now.”
“You do know now. Oh God. You know now.” Peter realized and started to panic a little. You could see him starting to freak out so you thought of something to calm him down.
“You wanna know how I think our first date would go?” You asked, pulling Peter out of his panic.
“How?” He asked as a shy smile crept on his face.
“I think it would be raining, since the universe hates us as we’ve established, and you would pick me up in your car and splash water on me as you pulled up to the curb.” You began. “And then I think you’d get out to open the car door for me like the gentleman you are and accidentally hit me with the door.”
“Yeah. All of that would definitely happen.” Peter laughed.
“Uh huh. And then you’d drive me to a restaurant and pull out my chair for me when we sat down. But you’d pull it out too far and I’d fall on the floor. Then we’d sit down to eat and you’d spill water on me. Or maybe spit your hot food into my face. I know you like doing that.” You continued with a teasing smile
“This is all very likely.” Peter agreed with you, growing fonder of you with every detail you added.
“I know. Then after we ate, you’d order us dessert and somehow, I’d be allergic to it. The one thing you ordered would definitely be something that made me break out in hives or go into anaphylactic shock or something. And after you walked me back to your car, you’d lean in to kiss me.”
“Yeah? And then what?” Peter hung on to your every word.
“You’d miss my lips and knock your head right into mine. And we’d both end the night with a headache. And maybe even a missing tooth.”
“I’d risk the headache for the kiss.” Peter smiled softly. “You know, one of my favorite song lyrics is, “I’ve got headaches and bad luck luck but they couldn’t touch you.” That kinda describes us perfectly. It describes how I feel about you, at least.”
“I don’t know that song.” You frowned. “I can’t believe I finally don’t understand one of your references.”
“It’s an old Fall Out Boy song.” Peter explained as he pulled out his phone and earbuds. “Here. I’ll show you.”
You stayed perfectly still as Peter placed his earbud in your ear and the other in his ear. You leaned your temples together as Peter hit play on the song. When you got to the part of the song with the lyrics, you looked over into Peters eyes. He looked into yours and felt his face heat up the way it always did around you. Since your heads were already pressed together, all you had to do was tilt your face to close the gap between you and Peter. You kissed him slowly and softly until your felt his hands cupping your face to pull you closer. Peter could barely believe what was happening after all the time he had spent imagining this every moment. He never thought it would happen after he twisted your ankle, but at least it was happening. When you pulled away, you smiled shyly at each other and laughed a little.
“Well, what do you know. That was completely painless.” You teased him. But that wasn’t entirely true for Peter. He touched his now burning lips and realized he smelled something all too familiar.
“Are you wearing peppermint chapstick?” He asked you.
“Peppermint lipgloss, yeah. Why?”
“Oh no.” He gulped and felt his lips start to lose all feeling.
“What? Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothings wrong. I’m just a little severely allergic to peppermint, is all. It’s fine.” Peter kept his voice calm as he frantically wiped his lips.
“What? A little severely allergic?” Your panic grew to match his.
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” He smiled to assure you but couldn’t hide the panic in his eyes.
“Are you sure? Your lips are swelling.”
“Tho ith my tongue. But ith okay. I really liked kithing you. It wath worth it.” Peter said through his red and swollen tongue and lips, only worsening his pain.
“Oh my God. Nurse! We need some help in here!” You called out as you held Peters hand to comfort him. The nurse came running back in and immediately sighed when she saw the two of you.
“Oh my Lord. How did you manage to hurt her again in the five minutes since I’ve left you? You haven’t even moved!” The nurse exclaimed.
“No, no, no. I hurt him this time. He’s having an allergic reaction to my lipgloss.” You quickly explained.
“Well how did he get your lipgloss on his…” The nurse trailed off when she put two and two together. You gave her an embarrassed smile while Peter passed out from the pain.
“You two are so nasty.” She shook her head. “I’ll go get some ice.”
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3K notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 4 months
Note
Love your two works! Could you write something about Matt dating a girl in college and his reaction to meeting all her friends?
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BELLA NOTTE
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your college friends have been asking to meet your boyfriend for a while. he’s visiting for a weekend, but the downside is that he’s terrified to meet them.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: anxiety, cutesy fluff
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 865
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you anon! i hope you like this. i loved writing it :)
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the laughter died down after a few minutes, you and your two closest college friends hanging out in their dorm. your friends sat in their assigned bed while you sat in the beanbag in the corner. it was thursday night on your lovely college campus.
“so y/n.” your friend jasmine starts, throwing her now empty soda bottle with the food bags scattered in the middle of the room. “when are we going to meet that boyfriend of yours?”
you smile, a light blush forming on your cheeks. you go to school in LA, meaning that visits to matt or vice versa are easy. the only thing is that jasmine and sage have yet to meet him.
they ask about him a lot, and your answer is always ‘soon.’
however, matt is supposed to come tomorrow and stay the weekend.
“for real, girl. i’m starting to think your delusions are getting to the best of you and he’s not real.” sage jokes, licking her spoon with ice cream on it.
“he is real.” you say. “lucky for you guys, he’s coming to visit for the weekend tomorrow. i can tell him you guys are dying to meet him.”
the duo let out girlish squeals. “this is so exciting! he sounds like such a good guy.” jasmine smiles over at you.
you return it and nod. “he is.”
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matt knocks at your dorm door in the late afternoon, making you spring up from your bed and open it. “matt!”
“hey, baby.” he greets, pecking you on the lips before entering your single dorm.
he sets his backpack down next to your bed and rubs his sweaty hands on his pants. “so, uh… when are they coming?”
“around seven. we still got a few hours.” you walk over to your bed and sit. you scan matt’s face, and you can tell he’s nervous.
the lip-biting, the hand fiddling, the looking at the ground.
“you have nothing to worry about, love,” you reassure, grabbing his hands and rubbing your thumbs on them to calm him.
“i know.” he sighs, sitting down beside you. “can we watch lady and the tramp?”
one thing about matt is that whenever he’s feeling anxious about something, he turns to binging disney movies to distract him. it’s one of the many qualities you love about him because even at twenty, he doesn’t let the kid in him go.
the closer seven rolls around, matt’s fiddling and lip-biting don’t get any better. your head rests on his chest, the both of you facing the small TV you have. you can hear his heartbeat.
“talk to me, matt,” you say calmly, being that all you hear in your ear is the erratic pump of his heart.
“is it stupid for me to be so scared?” he asks lowly, playing with your hair.
you lean off of him so you can face his front. he has a look of worry on his face, and it makes your heartache.
“not at all. it’s normal to be nervous when meeting new people.” you stroke his face with your hand, and he leans into your touch. he kisses your palm.
“if you get too anxious, i can ask them to leave. they won’t mind at all.”
he exhales. “thank you.”
bella notte starts to play on the TV, and the music makes you smile. out of all the binging disney movies with matt, this song has to be your number one.
“listen.” you exclaim, pointing to the TV. “it’s going to be a bella notte. a beautiful night. trust me, okay?”
your disney reference forces the cutest smile on his face and he nods.
you kiss him on the head and as if on queue, a knock floods the room. “come in!”
sage is the one to walk in first, jasmine following behind. she glances at the TV and gasps. “omg i didn’t know you guys were watching a movie. we can come back when it’s over—”
“not at all.” matt smiles at them. he takes your hand in his and squeezes. “why not watch it with us? i’m matt, by the way.”
“i’m sage, and this is jasmine. it’s so nice to finally meet you! y/n doesn’t shut up about you.”
“sometimes it gets a little too intense.” jasmine says, but in a joking manner.
“sorry, i love him,” you say coldly. you hear matt giggle.
the girls get comfortable in chairs and join you guys in the movie.
as the minutes go by, you sense that matt starts to calm down a little. the whole time his hand is in yours, playing with the ring he got you for one of your anniversaries.
he chirps into some conversations, and the night is better than you can imagine.
matt wakes up the next morning to the sun beaming through your curtains. what he didn’t wake up to was you.
he looked around the dorm room, but you were nowhere to be seen. he groggily reached to his phone to see if you texted him but instead found a note on top of it.
he started to read the small piece of paper, smiling like a fool while doing so.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn
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erodasfishtacos · 7 days
Text
Give You Some Sugar
prompt: when yn meets h at a club and quite a few unexpected things happen in a short amount of time 
word count: 9k
author’s note: hiiii. there are currently six more parts of this available on my patreon 😗
you can subscribe for $3 USD a month 💓
+
Y/N finally had the night off.
No charity events, dreadful business dinners, or exclusive invite-only clubs where she had to pretend to be something she wasn’t.
The smile on her face forced enough that her jaw and cheeks ached by the end of the night by how much of a farce she’s putting on.
A twinkling giggle accompanies every stupid joke that is told.
It’s mind-numbing to pretend that she is an airhead who doesn’t understand any aspect of what these businessmen discuss during their dinner.
Though she does, she wasn’t stupid and she knew that the offshore accounts to funnel tax money and avoid payouts were illegals - especially considering the fact that they were not talking about chump change but millions and sometimes billions of dollars.
As they spoke of this right in front of her, in an exclusive back room of a five-star restaurant most of the time without a care because they thought that she just simply could not understand their discussions.
YN had to drop out during her last year of college.
Her financial aide ran short and she didn’t have anything in her bank account to cover the difference.
It’s mostly why she’s in the work she does now, trying to save up to get back in to finish her last year but it’s been pushed off for a few years now.
She thought that she would immediately get out of this line of work the second she got that number she needed in her bank account, it did not work out that way.
No job she could get right now would pay even comparably to what she gets now for simple dinners and events with rich men.
Quitting this job would send her right back into struggling to pay rent or her car note, she grew up living that way.
She didn’t want that for herself ever again which is why she has been saving nearly every penny that comes her way to get a hefty enough savings that she won’t have to worry - at least for a while.
++
She could do with a pair of strong, smooth hands around her waist - guiding her hips into deep and playful grinds as music pounds much too loudly around them, only lost in each other.
Not the swollen, wrinkly ones that she had to lightly hold like she was enjoying them or the too tight grip on her hips when they had to slow-dance at galas with classical music coming from a live orchestra.
She hasn’t had any type of dating life since all this had started.
Not so surprisingly, most men didn’t enjoy sharing their girlfriends nearly every night.
And the term sugar baby scared every potential suitor away which had in all honesty made YN give up very soon after - realizing no matter what year it is, there’s definitely a stigma around what she does.
Y/N needed to feel young again.
Hell - she was twenty-five but the crowd she was around most of the time was sixty-five and above.
She had nothing in common with these men that she spent her time with, very rarely did they have any similar interests or something that they could talk about for more than a few minutes without the conversation withering.
For the most part - she enjoyed being a sugar baby.
It was a lot of cash upfront or in her banking app, gifts, free dinners, and all-expenses paid vacations.
She charged men for her time and appearance.
Laid out flat to them during their initial meeting - she would not have sex with them.
It was non-negotiable, no matter how much money they offered her, she would turn it down and remind them that if they tried it again, she had no problem terminating their contractual agreement that they’re currently not following.
There was no judgment for anyone who did sleep with their clients.
YN found that she made more than enough without that aspect that it wasn’t necessary and it just wasn’t for her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it for any amount of money.
-
YN finally had a night off where she could go to the club without any obligations, just with her friends.
No man to hang onto, to follow around like a puppy, or to always have a fresh drink in hand for them.
Sophie was behind her, one hand on her waist and a drink in her other as they swayed together - always scoping out the people around them and having enough fun with each other to let the night fly by.
Until was a beefy, meathead starts checking Sophie out from a barstool.
His eyes were watching her friend with a focused smirk on the corner of his lips, and his foot was tapping against the floor in rhythm to the music that was pumping through the club.
“You have a suitor!” YN shouts over the music, subtly nodding toward the man who her friend hadn’t noticed yet.
He was Sophie’s type to the tee with a flannel button-up, some type of cowboy boot, and beard.
Her friend makes eye contact with the man finally, after he’d been waiting for her to finally notice and now he takes it as permission to get up from the bar stool to stride over to her and ask her for a dance.
YN leaves them to it, not wanting to block a chance of Sophie having some luck finding someone to go home with tonight after she’d been complaining about a dry spell.
Not wanting to lose sight of her, YN goes back to the bar and slips into the seat that was just occupied by the man who was currently pulling her friend into his chest to dance.
When asked, she ordered a jack and coke, she wasn’t much of a drinker which meant that she’d most likely sip on that for the rest of the time that she was here, and she could make sure Sophie was safe which would be hard to do if she was drunk.
Someone slides up next to her, bumping her shoulder harshly enough that it makes her gasp, and the man doesn’t even apologize before he’s grabbing the bartender’s attention with an obnoxious, rude snap of his fingers, “Make that two.”
He didn’t sound drunk or belligerent, that just made it even more odd that he didn’t apologize for bumping into her but maybe he just assumed that it’s normal for that to happen at such a tightly cramped bar.
After a moment, she finally looks out of the corner of her eye.
However, it’s not enough because she's surprised by what she sees and she turns her head to get a full view of what was standing right beside her.
He was broad, that was the first thing that she noticed, was how wide his shoulders were as he squeezed between YN and the patron on the other side of him.
The broadness tapered off into narrow hips and lean thighs but his body was athletic, strong, lithe, and everything that YN had been dreaming of when she’s holding hands with men who were the opposite of what she was looking at right now.
He had stunning, cropped brown curls, a bit of scruff on his face like he hasn’t shaven in a few days, and golden skin from being in the sun - not a tan he could have acquired in London, that’s for sure.
The man was dressed in black silky button-up that was open enough to display the definition of his chest, a gold cross hanging between his pecs.
The shirt what sheer enough that his abdominal muscles were being shown-off until the band of his black trousers covered them right above his belly button but enough to see that trail of sparse hair leading to it.
Her chest tighten when he turns his head to meet her staring gaze, he’s caught her checking him out, and she knows based on the way his lips turn up, and deep dimples indent his cheeks.
“Mind a drink on me, darling?” He tilts his head and smiles wolfishly, purposefully flashing a black Amex between two fingers before tossing it carelessly the shiny oak bar like it was worthless.
Show off.
It didn’t do much to impress her, not when she was constantly surrounded by some of the wealthiest men in the world, a single credit card wasn’t something to have her drooling over him.
“Knock yourself out,” She shrugs with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat bored tone, letting him know through her facial expressions that she wasn’t nearly as impressed as he would like her to be, as most girls probably are.
“I’m Harry,” he puts out his hand, rings twinkling in the dim light and a cross inked on the crook of his hand.
It was the type of hand that she’d been fantasizing about on her body when she dances with her clients.
They were big, strong, and had veins protruding against the smooth skin that for some reason made her start to feel hot because she wanted those hands on her right now.
“YN,” She replies, trying to keep herself in check.
The firmness of his grip sends a tingle down her spine, his long fingers wrapping around hers, squeezing firmly enough to prove a point, and she tugs back her hand when she realizes she has been holding his hand for a tad too long.
She has been on too many dates in the last three months to count but hasn’t gotten laid in a year, if not longer.
And until now, she hadn’t felt that desperate to change that, and didn't bitch about dry spells like Sophie did.
When Harry laughs at her for holding his hand for too long, she’s a fucking goner, and she doesn’t know what’s making him feel so magnetic.
Her body realized it as she watched his hand grip the glass, suck a thumb into his mouth when a splash of liquor spills over - pink tongue peeking out of his puffy, pink lips.
Their conversation goes smoothly and he definitely wins points with YN when he looks out for Sophie when she trots over to the bar to tell her that she’s going to leave with that lumberjack-looking fellow named Josh.
Harry had judgmentally looked Josh up and down with an unimpressed but indifferent expression before saying, “Send a picture of your driver’s license to YN before you leave so she knows exactly who you are and where you live if there’s an issue.”
Josh doesn’t seem bothered, actually digs his driver’s license out of his wallet, and hands it over to YN, who does snap a picture of it - surprised she had never thought of doing that before now but would definitely from here on out.
Sophie is a bit confused, clearly wondering if YN and Harry knew each other based on just how assertive he was being, acting like he had any right to make demands of a man of a girl he didn’t know.
“You good?” Sophie whispers in her each as she hugs her before leaving.
“A hundred percent. I’ll text you later. You do the same?” YN murmurs back as she squeezes her friend tight - hoping Josh works out for her tonight but he seemed like an alright dude.
They part after that, Sophie taking Josh’s hand and nearly dragging him towards the door with eagerness - YN watches until they’re out of sight and turns back to the man next to her.
“What do you do for work?” Harry asks after the final sip of his mixed drink.
It was just the way that he was looking at her, with such intensity and interest, it made her feel like there was a hot spotlight right on her in front of a crowd, and she wanted to look away but she couldn’t break their eye contact.
“Customer service for an office supply chain, you?” YN lies smoothly, she’s said it enough times that there’s not a hint of uncertainty to give her away.
It was her go to job - she wasn’t going to tell a random person she was a sugar baby and the job description she gave is boring enough for them not to ask questions or really care to know more.
“Just a boring job in IT,” Harry shrugs, not divulging more information than that as he once again, rudely snaps his fingers at the bartender for another round before starting to ask, “What do you-“
“Are you going to take me home or no?” YN interrupts bluntly, she was never typically this forward - really she’s never been this upfront before.
However, the back and forth of meaningless conversation was driving her to the point of insanity because all she wanted right now was his hands on her and she doesn’t know if she’d ever been as aroused as this from just small talk.
No, with certainty she’d never felt this much sexual attraction to someone else in her life.
Harry’s eyes narrow at her like a predator locked on prey.
The smile that had almost been permanently etched on his lips for the last hour was gone and his jaw was flexing under the thin skin there that she wanted to sink her teeth into.
As soon as the new glass of jack and coke was in front of him, he picks it up, and takes two long gulps before the cup is empty and he’s bringing it back down against the bar.
YN can’t help it when she leans forward to brush a droplet from the corner of his mouth.
Her heart is absolutely pounding when his hand comes up to capture her wrist, eyes intent of her face as he moves her hand until her thumb with the alcohol on it brushes against his lips.
He brings it into his mouth, to suck the liquid off of the digit before nipping it, pulling it back out to rub against his bottom lip for a minute.
YN knew her lips were parted in surprise, arousal, and disbelief at how utterly attractive the man in front of her was with such a simple but filthy move - she craved more of it.
“Do you want me to take you home, pup?” Harry asks with that same head tilt from early, like he doesn’t know the answer, and he brushes his nose against the inside of her wrist.
“I don’t think I was unclear. Don’t make me repeat myself,” YN’s voice is tight and thick but she isn’t going to give him control from the start - already knowing Harry will be up for a challenge by the way he holds himself - cock sure.
That has him letting out a low, dangerous chuckle that almost sounds like a growl at the taunts, “Oh, that’s how you want it, sweetheart?”
YN was feeling brave and nearly insane with a warm arousal in her stomach.
She reaches out and runs a purposeful hand across his lap.
A confident smile gracing her face when she palms at him, his cock twitching and plumping up embarrassingly easy for her which makes her let out her own mean chuckle at what he can’t hide or control of his body.
His strong, massive hand is coming to stop her.
Her hand twinges in light pain at his rings digging into her skin as he wraps his fingers around her wrist again, this time pulling until she’s nearly stumbling off her stool but able to right herself at the last moment.
She goes forward, a bit clumsily and meets his hard chest, looking up at him. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” He warns, bringing her wrist back up to kiss at where his rings left light indents.
“Are you all talk? Or are you going to -“ Because she can’t help herself, she wants to get him as riled up as possible so that he’ll give her all he’s got because she hasn't had excitement like this in well - ever.
YN’s cut with a rough pinch to her thigh and his mouth at her ear, low and firm, “Get your shit and let’s go, now.”
She moves to put on her jacket, Harry apparently finding that she isn’t doing it quickly enough because he knocks her hands away and puts it on her himself before being led out of the club without a second glance back.
As soon as they’re in the taxi, YN is so hazy with want that she doesn’t think twice before straddling his lap and grinding down.
He’s firm, warm, and smells like he just walked out of a cologne advert for Tom Ford.
Her lips finally make it to where they’ve wanted to be all night, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, and huffing in frustration when his hands grip her hips, stilling her movements and ending any friction that she was getting.
“You need to be a good girl and wait. I’m not fucking you in the back of a cab,” Harry hisses, grips her jaw like he can do whatever he wants to her because he can right now, pulling her back with a stern look.
“Don’t need to fuck in here, I just want-“ YN begins, trying not to flush at how needy she sounds and how much her demeanor has changed from sitting at the bar a few minutes ago.
He literally had her in the palm of his hand and he fucking knew it.
“I’m going to stop you there, pup,�� Harry cuts her off, still holding her chin, and his eyes are twinkling with something playful but serious, “It’s not about what you want, is it? Are you a selfish thing, hm?”
“No,” YN gasps when he brings his hand down, finding her bud over the thin material of her underwear but under her skirt, just tapping at it with no real pressure, “I’m not, I swear. I just want to-“
A sharp pinch replaces the intermittent taps, her legs twitching as an even mixture of pain and pleasure shoot up her spine, “You’re not a very good listener either, are you?”
Fucking hell.
YN can now say without a shadow of a doubt that she’s never been more turned on than this in her life.
The submission that was melting through her body was new to her.
She’d never whined, pleaded, used such a voice before but it felt natural to meet his dominance.
Her mind was spinning and she wanted him to take care of her, tell her what to do, and instead of being scared because she’d never wanted anything like this before, it felt like she was falling but it felt freeing.
“Please,” YN says because she forgets the question that he asked already, anticipating the switch between taps and pinches that keep her body taut on top of him.
Harry loosens his hold on her chin, surprisingly gentle as he tilts it down to get a better look at her, and his face softens for the first time all night, “Jesus Christ, look at you. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, you know that? Look how gone you are already. S’fucking adorable.”
She wants him to kiss her, so bad but he’s keeping his lips right out of her reach.
YN obviously didn’t know Harry before tonight but the amount of chemistry between them felt like they’ve done this together a million times.
There was no embarrassment on YN’s end over how much she was just folding for him and there was no hesitance in Harry taking control of everything.
“You’re being mean,” YN accuses as he pushes her underwear to the side, only to trace his fingertips along the outside of her folds, petting at the wetness before smearing it over her lips and leaning forward to lick it off but not quite kissing her.
“You’re cute,” Harry laughs as he presses his thumb between her folds, parting them, and finally giving a few harsh rubs to where she needed the friction the most, “You haven’t seen anything yet, darling. Now relax until we get to mine.”
**
The line of townhouses where Harry lives, well YN is familiar with because quite a few of her clients live in them.
They were in the heart of London, old brick structures that had five or six floors, she couldn’t remember, and they cost more than what most people could even dream about making.
It’s no surprise how beautiful the interior is, if not a little too basic and boring like he’d just hired a designer to make it look sophisticated and modern without adding even a single touch of himself to the home.
Harry walks her into the house, body pressed up right behind her, and he runs his lips against the nape of her neck after pushing her hair to the side, “Do you need anything first? Drink, food, bathroom?”
YN shakes her head, allowing Harry to start removing her coat, “No.”
“Do you know your colors?” Harry murmurs, his voice softer and serious, like he wasn’t trying to be sexy right now but wanted a real answer.
For a moment, YN blanks because of course she knows her colors, she’s a grown woman but then wants to smack herself when she realizes what he’s actually asking about.
She did know.
She tried a few things with a previous boyfriend where they discussed safe words but never needed to actually use anything except ‘green’ because it never got far enough to need any others.
“Yes, red means stop, yellow means check-in, green means good to go,” YN recites as he turns her around, walking her back into a wall, and just surrounds her with every part of him.
“Smart girl,” Harry agrees, rewarding her with a squeeze to her hip, “Not that I plan for us to do anything crazy tonight. We just met. I just want you to be able to express where you’re at and know we can stop at any time, okay? Is this something you’re comfortable with doing? If it’s not, we can totally have-“
“Just shut up and do something,” YN complains, already feeling a bit spoiled as she appreciates his reminders but god, she wants this so much - can he not see that?
A wicked smile lights up on his face, her hand moving from her hip all the way up her side until it’s resting on the side of her throat, running his thumb over the hollow of her collarbones.
She leans in for a kiss but frowns when he stops her.
“Beg,” he demands, voice impossibly deeper than before.
YN lets a surprised chuckle slip, eyes wide in disbelief, “You want me to beg to kiss you?”
She didn’t want to admit how fucking hot she actual found that.
“You’re going to do a lot of it tonight, pet,” Harry tells her, unwavering in what he’s asking and not breaking eye contact, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you beg pretty f’me.”
“Please,” She replies, swallowing hard, watching him carefully.
“Please what?” Harry replies with a displeased wilt of his lips, it’s odd how it makes her heart drop like she’s doing something wrong and she instantly wants to make it right.
“Kiss me,” YN breathes, eyes darting between his eyes and mouth, she was breathing heavily like she’d just run a marathon - sweat already beading at her temples.
“Good girl,” he rewards automatically, nodding his head, and pressing their hips tightly together when he takes another step forward.
YN doesn’t know why because never in the past has praise made her stomach flip but when he told her she was good, it felt like he’d just given her the highest compliment of all time.
He dips down and connects their mouths, it’s surprisingly sweet for a moment as he gently goads her into opening up so that he can take control, and it only makes sense that he’s skilled.
Harry’s hands are moving once again, to her shirt, and YN lifts her arms up to give him permission which he takes, pulling back to yank it roughly over her head like he couldn’t get it off her fast enough.
“May I?” He asks as his fingertips dance along the lace of her bra.
His voice hasn’t changed from the stable and calm which was the exact opposite to the chaotic frenzy that had overtaken YN’s brain.
“Yes,” YN agrees, reaching behind herself to begin to unclasp her bra which earns a pinch to her hip.
“I didn’t ask you to take it off, did I?” He rumbles as YN’s hands fall back at her sides, allowing him to reach around her to without any struggle unclasp the latch of her bra and he drags it down her arms, tossing it to the floor.
YN feels embarrassed for a moment because she was standing in front of the most attractive man she’s ever seen in her life, let alone somehow managed to get to take her home, and he’s probably seen his fair share of beautiful people.
It’s instinct to move to cover herself.
“What’s that for?” Harry frowns as he notices her arm moving up, his voice is softer than it’s been all night, gentle and cautious, “What’s your color?”
“Green,” YN responds immediately, “I just…I’m being stupid.”
And her heart is sinking because she feels like she’s killing the entire mood with her insecurity that she’s never had quite like this before but standing in front of him was….a lot.
“You’re not being stupid, it’s okay, pup,” Harry soothes, his hands coming to rub at her forearm before he’s gently tugging them away, his eyes glued to her chest as it’s revealed once again.
“This is what you wanted to hide from me and you call me mean?” Harry huffs as he cups them, fitting perfectly into his hands as his thumbs come to brush where her nipples are already pebbled from the chill in the room, “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, darling. God, I could stare at you forever and never get bored.”
YN has to remind herself that it’s all talk, this is what people do at random hookups, say things that they will forget in the morning because they were meaningless - Harry wasn’t doing anything more than that.
“I need more,” YN whimpers because the way he was teasing at her nipples with light swipes of his thumbs, not giving anything more than that, she felt like she was going to go insane when he leaned down to swipe his tongue around both of them to get them harder before pulling back, she tacks on, “Please.”
“Since you asked so nicely. I guess I could give you a little more,” He hums thoughtfully, moving to roll them between his forefinger and thumb, giving enough of a pinch that it makes her gasp.
YN realizes that’s all he’s going to give her, a little bit more, but still not enough.
Now it’s clicking, she’s going to have to ask, scratch that, beg for anything she wants.
Even though he’s the one being dominant, she actually has all the control.
She’s not used to talking so much during hookups, let alone having to ask for what she wants but if that’s what she had to do to get more from him - well that’s what she’s going to do.
“Harry, I-“ YN’s mind blanks for a moment when he gives a particularly good twist as he sucks a mark into the underside of her jaw, “I need more, I’m so wet.”
It was the truth, she needed friction, touch, something.
“You’re wet? Why didn’t you say so, pet?” Harry teases, acting like he’s surprised by her words, “Gonna let me take this off you? Let me see what else you’re hiding from me?”
“Yes, take it off,” YN agrees breathlessly, hand coming to balance of his shoulder when he unzips her skirt, kicking it off her ankles when it falls to the floor, and catches Harry staring at her once again.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How did I manage to get you to come home with me, baby?” Harry asks but it doesn’t sound teasing or like a line as he snaps the elastic of her thong against her skin.
YN knows she’s not in charge but she isn’t thinking before she’s stepping forward and leaning up to kiss him, her hand cupping his jaw because even just for a moment, she wants his mouth again.
He’s definitely surprised by the action but not unpleased, kissing her back and taking the lead again by moving her how he wants her, and he allows it for a long moment before pulling back, a soft smirk on his lips.
“Just wanted a kiss,” YN tells him, hand still on his face.
“Wanted a kiss, hm? You’re the sweetest thing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles as he pulls her back in for another, brushing their lips together, biting at her bottom lip, and then soothing it with his tongue, “You’re so good, you know that?”
It seems like the sharpness from earlier, the more demanding dominance has faded into something much sweeter which YN enjoys just as much as she enjoyed how their encounter started, this was just as good.
Harry’s hand moves down the center of her sternum, drifting left to tweak her nipple once more before starting to drag down her belly which has her sucking in when goosebumps break out on her skin.
“Love how you react to me,” Harry murmurs, kissing along her jaw as he hooks the band of her underwear under his thumb, “Know you’ll be so pretty for me when I’m touching you, yeah?”
“Then touch me,” YN bites out, her arousal was swirling at a vicious quell in the pit of her stomach and she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get relief soon, she wasn’t used to being teased like this, she was on fire.
Harry laughs meanly, hand quick as it moves to part her folds and press firm circles on her clit, “Oh darling, just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean that I’m not in charge. You’re not tough, not with that way you’re dripping on my palm.”
The thing is, Harry isn’t all talk because he finds her spot in less than five seconds when he slips down to push two fingers into her and crook them towards himself, his palm coming to lie flat against her clit to give her friction.
“Ride ‘em for me,” Harry tells her as he still them inside of her, eyes flickering between her face and center like he’s spoiled for choice.
YN doesn’t feel any of that earlier embarrassment, she feels empowered now as she bears down before pulling back up, short ruts of her hips because they’re still standing and she can only do so much.
She moans loudly when he presses the heel of his palm more directly against her which leaves her torn between grinding forward or moving up and down on his fingers because both feel so good.
“Listen to me,” Harry reminds her sternly, it doesn’t need any further explanation because he’d already told her what he wanted and the self-indulgent figure eights of her hips weren’t conducive to that.
YN struggles not to grind forward to give her clit the friction that it’s craving but it feels amazing every time he strokes against her spot too.
She’s definitely never been with someone who’s been able to make her feel like this.
“Oh, look at that pout,” Harry coos, his free hand coming up to pull at her jutted out bottom lip and drag it down, “You spoiled little thing, s’embarassing how much I’m willing to let slide right now.”
The last sentence was quieter, almost like he was saying it to himself but she can’t dwell on that for much longer because she feels the tightness in her stomach start to ball up in anticipation.
“I’m close, Harry,” YN mewls as she starts to grind her hips forward again and ignoring his prompts from earlier, she was being selfish now in chasing her relief that she’s been craving.
“Well you’re not coming because you can’t seem to listen very well,” Harry replies as he pulls his hand out from her underwear, the elastic causing a mark on his hand where it’s been stretched taut around his wrist.
YN whines when that building of sensation begins to fizzle out.
She’s never been denied like this before.
It was usually quite the accomplishment when a guy could get her there in the first place.
Now Harry was making it seem simple to get her to the edge, simple enough that he didn’t care about taking it away from her either.
“No, no,” YN gasps when her legs start to feel unsteady from how much she’d been tensing them previously, there’s no stopping the tears that are stemming at the corner of her eyes now.
Harry’s expression changes once again, the dominance and teasing dissipating into something sweeter as he brings her into his chest, kissing the apples of her cheeks as he sweeps a few hairs off her face.
“S’okay,” He simpers, it isn’t teasing or condescending, “No used to being denied, are you?”
YN shakes her head, basking in the way his hands are rubbing at her sides, massaging at her hips.
“Color?”
“Green.”
Without a second thought.
The brightest green possible.
Maybe the green of his eyes.
“Can I take you to my room?” Harry asks softly, pulling back to study her face and swipe over cheekbones where she knows she’s overheated.
“Please,” YN replies, taking his hand when he holds it out.
As they walk through the expanse of his home, up the flight of stairs, she realizes just how dressed he is in comparison to her - everything but his jacket still on as his boots click against the hardwood floors.
His room is similar to the rest of the home, barely lived in with not even a picture to make it seem homey.
The colors were dull neutrals of beige, tan, white, and not one thing that made it seem like he slept here every night - even the bed was made with tight lines and tucked corners.
It was beautiful, all of it, expensive-looking but not for a home, maybe for a hotel.
The only sign of him was the closet that was open, rows of neatly hung and organized clothes lining the walls to show that this was in fact a lived-in space.
YN sits on the edge of the bed as Harry moves around to turn on a few of the lamps before turning off the brighter overhead.
He comes to stand in front of her, his hand coming down to cup her face once again, he’s looks mesmerized by her, the way his eyes are tracing over every single one of her feautres, “I want you so much.”
YN’s breathing hitches, getting caught in her throat for a moment becuase he says it with such intensity and she truly can feel how much he means it.
It’s too intimate for a one night stand.
All of this has been already.
“I don’t want to wait any longer,” YN tells him honestly, it’s not that she didn’t enjoy the teasing.
No, she absolutely loved it.
She could imagine a whole day laid up in bed with him, letting him play with her however she wanted but now wasn’t the time, the need was too intense to have the patience for that.
His lips tilt up at that, “Don’t think I could say ‘no’ to you even if I wanted. Caught me ‘round your finger, haven’t you? Impossible not to be gone with your beauty, if I’m honest. Everything about you.”
It’s all talk, YN reminds herself.
All part of the give and take of a one-time hookup.
YN moves to begin to undress him but he bats her hands away, moving much quicker to rid himself of his clothes, and though his shirt hadn’t left much to the imagination - it’s still startling to see how fit he is.
His muscles quite literally ripple as he bends down to rid himself of his trousers, as he tucks his thumbs into his briefs, and shimmies them down his lean thighs without an ounce of insecurity like YN have.
There was no world where he’d need to be insecure, not with how defined and beautiful his body was, the tattoos just the icing on the cake to what was already breathtaking.
When she reaches out, without even thinking to wrap her hand around him because that part of him matches the attractiveness of the rest of him - unfair that he’s so magnificently built and has a length to match.
He wraps his fingers around her wrist, moving to lay her hand flat on his abdomen, shaking his head, “Tonight’s about you, pup. What do you want?”
YN lets her hand wander over the expanse of his stomach, dipping into the ridges of hard muscle until she’s met with the softer, plush of his hips, and repeating the process over and over.
“Puppy,” Harry laughs fondly at her distractedness, tapping her on the nose to get her attention.
The laugh stops when YN leans forward to press her lips against his warm skin, appreciative kisses smeared against the butterfly on his upper stomach, the light sprinkling over hair by his bellybutton.
“How-“ Harry’s breathing heavier now, voice not sounding as confident for a moment until he clears his throat and sounds more steady, “How do you want it, darling?”
YN pulls back, albeit unwillingly, and it’s a hard question.
Now she’s spoiled for choice.
But there’s one thing that she cannot get out of her head.
“I want to ride you,” YN decides finally, lifting her hips when Harry finally gets her thong off, wriggling the tight fabric off the thick of her hips and thighs before he’s adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.
“I-“ Harry’s voice is unsteady again, “Are you sure? I can do the work, pet.”
“It’s what I want,” YN tells him with an unwavering gaze.
“S’what you’re going to get then,” Harry rumbles in agreement, surprising her when he sits next to her on the end of the bed, fully expecting him to shimmy up towards the middle to splay out.
He tugs her onto his lap until she’s straddling him with knees pressed into the mattress on either side, and chest squished up against his.
His hands move to cup her bum, moving to situate them just right but YN is too impatient for the careful positioning that Harry’s doing, reaching down to guide him into where she needed him most.
“Fucking hell,” Harry moans lowly in surprise as she sinks down onto him.
He fits in her perfectly, it was exactly what she needed but because she was so on edge, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to last long because that tension was already building back up in her belly.
“Harry,” YN moans as she sits down completely, clit brushing against his pubic bone to provide the friction that she needed.
“You’re okay, you’re perfect. There you go,” He encourages, one hand still on her ass, and the other moving to cup her neck, “You’re such a good girl, never had anyone take it so well.”
A flame of jealousy shouldn’t lick up her spine at the thought of him with someone else but it does momentarily.
YN lifts up to start a rhythm that works more for her than for him, rotating her hips instead of bouncing to get him to reach the spot inside of her while getting the sensation on her bud at the same time.
Harry doesn’t seem to mind how greedy and self-indulgent she’s being right now, holding her closely, and murmuring words of encouragement against her cheek where his lips are brushing soft kisses.
“There you go, take what you want. S’yours.”
“That’s it, you feel so good on me.”
“You’re wrecking me, pup. Never had it this good.”
It was all too much, too intimate, too addicting for one time.
When Harry grips her bum harder, directing her grinds more harshly into him, more unrelenting and intense, it barrels her towards the release that she’s been craving since he met him.
“I’m….I’m coming,” YN pants out, she was sheen with sweat, the previous chilled house seeming like a sauna as her skin sticks to Harry’s, hips picking up the pace as the band in her belly releases and she’s barreling over the edge.
“Yeah, pup. Give it to me, you’re the most beautiful thing, coming on my cock,” Harry groans as she squeezes around him, it doesn’t take more than two or three thrust upwards for him to follow suit.
“Fuck, you did so good,” Harry sighs as they sit there, he keeps her in his lap as he brushes her hair away from her face and neck, peppering kisses along her sweaty temple, and rubbing up and down her back.
It was too intimate.
YN was liking this too much.
And god, that really fucking scared her.
YN’s quiet when they finally separate, Harry goes about cleaning them both up as best as he can with a damp cloth, and there’s no conversation about her spending the night because he’s tucking her into the comforter without discussion before sliding in next to her.
++
When YN wakes up the next time, it’s still dark outside, and she realizes that she was awoken by movement in the room.
As she sits up, she blinks the sleep out of her eyes, and her bones still feel heavy from not getting enough sleep to recover from her activities on the night.
There’s only a dim lamp in the corner of the room, it highlights Harry who’s now dressed in a pair of dress pants, a button- up and suit jacket slung over a chair in the corner of the room.
The clock reads five in the morning. .
“Hi,” YN rasps, voice thick with sleep, no attempting to keep the confusion out of her tone.
She rubs her eyes to try to wake herself a bit more.
When Harry looks over at her - well, he looks different.
He doesn't have a twinkle in his eye and his lips are set in a firm line.
There hadn’t been anything that had happened between the time he helped lay her down in his bed and now that would warrant the change in his demeanor but she already felt her stomach sinking before the words came out of his mouth.
“You can leave now. I’ve folded on the bench with money for a cab. I need you out in the next twenty minutes, I have to go,” Harry states bluntly, uninterested in her response as he goes back to his suitcase without another glance.
True to his word, on the bench in front of the bed was her outfit neatly folded and bills for a ride home.
What a fucking asshole.
“You must be joking,” YN laughs in disbelief, was she really getting kicked out right now?
Her mind was spinning.
How did they go from having such an amazing, intimate night to being kicked to the curb?
It wasn’t like she expected them to fall madly in love or for him to even want her number but of course there was hope this could be more.
She just wasn’t expecting this.
“I have multiple meetings this morning before I leave on a business trip. I don’t have time for this back and forth. I don’t know what your expectations of me were but this is where our night ends. We fucked, that’s it. Alright?” Harry’s tone is monotone, emotionless, and he won’t even look at her.
YN lets out a scoff for him to know just how pissed off she was, ripping the comforter off her body and letting it crumble onto the ground as she slides out of the bed.
She looks down and realizes Harry had slid a very baggy shirt onto her, probaly as she was falling asleep last night.
It was a Kiss band tee.
It looked expensive and vintage.
It nearly brushed her mid-thighs.
Fuck it, she’s not giving it back.
Gathering in her phone, dress, shoes, she storms out of his bedroom.
She could get her own fucking cab.
YN makes her way quickly through the maze of the rather large house, finding the staircase and wanting to get out of this house as soon as fucking possible with annoyance when she hears him trailing after her.
When her hand reaches the knob on his front door, he’s not far behind her, having the advantage of knowing his way around his own house.
“You can wait for your ride here. It’s still dark out. You don’t have to stand outside. Are you going to put your clothes back on? You don’t have any pants on and it’s cold out.”
He doesn’t ask for his shirt back.
YN laughs dryly, no humor in his tone as she says, “Now you care? I’d rather not spend another minute in your house, prick.”
With that, she’s yanking open the heavy front door, ready to never see this man again.
Before she closes it, she looks at Harry who’s looking at her with a mixed expression of concern, surprise, and anger.
It was comical.
“And I don’t need your fucking money,” She spits, tossing the bills back into the house, slowly dancing to the ground before slamming the front door.
Already pulling up Uber on her phone as she walks down the sidewalk.
Fuck that asshole.
++++
YN tossed and turned a bit when she got back home - still infuriated with the man she’d just left.
It didn’t help that he had made her feel so much pleasure and that sex had been amazing.
He had to ruin it with his shitty personality.
He really did put on a good act though.
When she’s finally up, later than normal, and stirring her iced coffee with too much caramel and creamer, she gets an incoming call.
“Hiya babe,” An voice chirps, someone she doesn’t want to talk to right at this moment.
“What do you want?” YN mutters back, sipping on her drink without enthusiasm.
“I got a last minute job for you,” He supplies, his voice a little hesitant.
Niall was the...well the middle-man so to speak.
He was the liaison between her and the men she called her sugar daddies.
Niall worked for a higher up - it was a shady business at best but they did take care of their girls.
YN was grateful for their safety measures.
Background checks, always having security on standby if a girl needs help, as well as giving the women freedom to turn down men they didn’t want to deal with without a need for explanation.
“Now tell me, why does it sound like you’re about to tell me somethin’ I don’t like?” YN replies suspiciously.
Niall wasn’t ever known to be described as hesitant.
“I know it’s last minute, okay? But a new customer needs a date for a three day trip to Milan. The flight leaves tonight.”
“Fuck no, I -”
“He’s willing to pay fifty-thousand up-front to you, plus everything on the trip,” Niall tells her and she really can’t say no to that amount of money, he knows that and that’s why he’s even asking.
She’s never ever been offered that much.
It would help a lot.
“Fine,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her face at the thought of the quick packing and preparing that she’s going to need to do in a very short amount of time. “Does he know what I look like?”
Niall had a habit of not showing the men pictures - just assuring them that the girl is hot.
Only that sometimes doesn’t work out - not when the men have certain preferences such as body shape, hair color, eye color, etc…
“He didn’t want to see any pictures. He said that he didn’t care what the girl looked like as long as she cleaned up nicely and could hold herself intelligently at his events. The man literally only wants you as arm candy,” Niall replies.
This all sounds a bit too good to be true, “Niall, are you sure this is legitimate?”
“Of course. Did a background check, Job check, he paid us his ten-thousand dollar deposit upfront plus an extra five grand due to the short notice. He provided all of his information and signed all the forms.”
“He’s dumb rich, isn’t he?” YN laughs, hearing the absurd amount of money he dished out for a three-day date.
He must be desperate.
“Only worth a cool four-hundred and thirty million dollars.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Not even joking, I should have charged the dude more if I’m honest,” Niall laughs loudly.
“Must have one hell of an ugly mug if he can’t find a girl willing to go without paying,” YN chuckles - girls don’t care what men look like when their wallets are fat enough.
“I met him earlier. Handsome bloke, young dude too. Quite a mystery but I don’t ask questions - just accept the money. He had it all in cash,” Niall tells her before adding, “I’m going to send you all the details. You need to be at the port by six sharp.”
YN guesses an all expenses paid trip to Milan would be a nice way to get her shitty day off of her mind.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
++
YN’s Uber gets to the private airport just a bit before six, they were already getting everything ready to go as she exits the car and thanks the driver after he gets her two suitcases out of the boot.
She always had a bit of nerves before meeting her next client, this could be a very easy three days or difficult depending on who he is but usually it worked out just fine and she was never trapped.
However when a sharp, matte black phantom pulls up to the tarmac, YN knows that has to be her client’s car, and when the door opens, the opposite way than normal, she’s more than flabbergasted by who exits.
None other than Harry who looks equally as surprised as her before he hardens his facial features once again.
++
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arthur-r · 2 years
Text
my heart rate at work right now confirming my greatest fear that i will actually never be able to safely bind!! literally there will be no relief until top surgery!! i want to cry!!!!
#i still don’t know if i’ll literally ever be able to get top surgery also!!!!#because it’s not possible for me to completely cut off from my parents that’s just not going to happen#and i don’t know if there will ever be a world where i can get top surgery and they won’t forcibly shut me out#of their lives. because what i mean to say when i say i can’t cut them off#is that i can’t cut them off without losing my baby sister. and that’s not a trade off i can make#so yeah i’m sure they would happily cut me off themselves if i came out fully as trans but if that happened i would lose one of the most#important people of my life#i guess i could wait until she grows up? but that is a scarily long time from now we’re nine years apart#anyway getting back to the point of this is just. i have heart problems. that might get better when i get older#but they also might not. which has made me nervous about the prospects of binding just because it’s so much in that area of the body#and i had decided that it wouldn’t matter and i would be okay. and that they wouldn’t affect each other#but here i am in a sports bra that’s slightly too small for me. and my standing heart rate is 120!!#which isn’t abnormal when i just stood up but i’ve been standing for an hour and a half this is something different#and yeah im feeling tight in my chest and like i’m going to burst so!! seems like binding will never be an option#i can hope and pray that it’s about how long i’ve been wearing it but i’m scared that’s not what’s going on#hi from 50 minutes later when i’m finally getting around to posting this. it has not gotten better. i can’t wait to get home#this is just. terrifying. though. because not binding is something i do because of my parents and i’m supposed to be able to when i leave#for college. but it looks like that’s not going to happen!! so. good luck to me#this has been a concern of mine for a long time but there’s never been experiential proof#so it’s time to start being upset i guess. sorry for kinda venting about this stuff but just. yeah#vent cw#delete later#me. my post. mine.#ask to tag
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firemenenthusiast · 11 days
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Can you plzz do a farleigh smut where he only rubs the readers clit bc the reader is too scared to finger herself, but then she gets the courage to finger herself and charles shows her how to do it??
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—“spell”
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farleigh start x innocent!reader
summary: farleigh had trouble resisting you since the first time he saw you so he laid his trap to which you walk right in, starting from agreeing to spend the summer at saltburn with him. the fact that you’ve never done anything with yourself boggles his mind, so he decides to lend a helping hand
warnings: boy where do i start. 18+, porn with plot, reader is innocent, naive and kinda stupid (bear with me), fingering, mirror kink, corruption kink, panties kink, posessive kink if you squint, size kink, praise kink, farleigh calls ready baby & princess, blowjob, face fucking, pussy job, panties job (?), cum eating, facial, dry humping, thigh riding, jerking off, p in v, let me know if i miss anything
a/n: we hit another milestone thank you everyone !! this is me showing my love to yall mwah. innocent reader finally out whoohoo. idk who’s charles but thank you anon for this request ! i hope it fits with what you’ve imagined
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summer could be too hot at times. sweaty. sticky. but nothing could make you hate summer. you love summer. your favourite season ever. the blossoming flowers and clear skies are one thing, but summer also means that you get to wear the flimsiest, flowiest, thinnest fabrics ever. sometimes almost see through, because of the heat. maybe if you wear thin enough short dresses the heat won’t get to you. what other perfect time one could be wearing the cutest dresses around if not in summer ? atleast that’s your excuse. wonder if there’s any other reasons. i mean, your short skirts and flimsy tops surely dont have anything to do with how nice farleigh is to you, do they ? you’re just so— pure, even naive at times that he doesn’t have the heart to treat you how he does others. delicate fragile little thing like you should only be handled with care
farleigh start is really nice to you, he’d helped you picked up the books you accidentally dropped when he bumped into you. he even offered to help carry them while you walk to class, which had drawn you to him. you’d given him the cutest, most doe-eyed little “thank you” for helping and he could just feel his cock twitch in his pants. it’s not easy to find a decent man around here so when he often showed up to your convenience you believe that he’s just a good person, with nothing but pure intentions. sure, farleigh thinks you’re such a pretty little thing.
that’s why when he first saw you on college fields, licking away at your cherry popsicle that was dripping down your fingers, giggling about something with your friends, he couldn’t get his eyes off you. he couldn’t stop thinking about things— things that he could be doing to you. for every day of summer you would put on the nicest short dresses that you’d saved just for the season. the type of dresses that cling onto your skin if you sweat through the fabric. those dresses that look like they could get one hard tug and would rip easily.
it’s funny how such silly first meeting could lead you to farleigh. the both of you aren’t necessarily friends, he’s more of the nice guy you know and would greet whenever you see him around the faculty. he’d smile and wave at you across the halls. he’d offer you a seat at the cafeteria if he sees you looking around. he helps you with stuff around campus, like returning your books to the library and carrying your stuff. though you do find it weird that you couldn’t find the books he said he’d help return on the shelves anymore. and because he’s so tall, he serves as your guardian, protects you from other boys that try to bother you. he doesn’t ask for anything in return, just a smile from you would suffice, the smile that leaves him smitten. farleigh also knows about the love you have for summer, the way you always mention how great of a time you would have in summer. just casually telling him about that time you wandered into a hayfield and just laid there looking at the sky. or about that time when you were little you had just received a gorgeous little floral dress as a present that you wore everyday because you liked it so much. sometimes you just couldn’t shut your mouth when it comes to summer. you’re sentimental about it, and the fact that he would sit through your stories every time, no wonder how random it can be or how busy he actually is
you jumped when he asked you to spend the summer with him. “really ?? are you serious ?” you beam at him with uncontainable excitement. your toes springing up and down, his eyes follow yours as you jump and squeal, a huge grin plastered across his face. farleigh had told you about his saltburn home. the most perfect, ethereal place to be spending summer at. you love to listen to his stories about what they do at saltburn in summer. basking under the sun at the lakeside, playing tennis, rolling in the hayfield naked— so when he invited you to spend the upcoming summer in saltburn, with him, you couldn’t be more excited. it’s gonna be the best summer ever. “yeah it’ll be fun. besides, elspeth is always thrilled to have a guest. she loves a pretty face like yours” you feel your cheeks heat up at his words as you push him away. he smiles at your reaction, sometimes it’s almost too easy for him to get what he wants with you. it’s always been felix who would bring his friends, toys- over so he figured this time he’d do the same. he chuckles at you twirling around in excitement, eyes trailing down to your ass peeking out under the skirt. he could see the bits of your panties if you would just jump higher.
thinking about spending the summer at saltburn, you cant help but imagine how it would be like. you’ve heard people talk about the greatest parties that took place there, and how sex infested it can get. people do all sort of wild things there, the wildest you could imagine. the type of crazy that you could say what happens there, stays there. trailing your eyes along the corners of your ceiling, you let out a heavy sigh. you’ve always had a positive attitude towards sex and well, other sexual stuff. you’d hear crazy stories from your friends, about stuff they did or would do in the bedroom with boys. it’s understandable for people your age to be acting like they don’t have a second to spare from reproducing. their stories intrigue you cuz you’ve never done the things they’d talk about.
they would mention playing with themselves, you struggled to understand at first, thinking what is there to be played with yourself until you learned what it actually means. you’ve never done it though, you’re too scared and it feels so crude to be doing such thing. sounds like a sin. every time you would try to rub your dainty fingers between your folds, you’d retreat though it felt so good. you heard that you’re supposed to be stuffing your fingers inside, and that scared you even more. they’d mention being wet, as in aroused, but you remember the conversation you had with your mom when you were going through puberty. the one you went through at a very early age. she had told you that it is possible, and that if you ever become wet because of someone, it means that they’ve done something bad to you. like they have put a spell on you so you would succumb to the fantasy of pleasure with them. you believe her. she may had just wanted to protect you then but it fucked with your perception towards arousal so bad that when your friends told you stories about it, you’d feel bad for them. you feel bad cuz they’ve been put under a spell yet they seem so happy about it. you wonder if they knew.
it’s not like you’re a virgin. you’ve had sex when you were younger, with a lanky boy who suggested you to do it with him like it’s just another invitation to go hang out. not thinking much, you agreed to him. you didn’t feel any pleasure when it happened. it was just a weird sensation and shitty experience overall. you’ve been pretty avoidant when it comes to sex since. you feel like people talk about it too much yet it’s not that great. you think sex is overrated, so no one has ever touched you in years. boys would try to get close with you, talk nice to you but you see right through them. not farleigh though, he seems genuinely nice. or so you thought. you’ve asked farleigh about sex seeing that he frequents it along the course of you knowing him. he thinks it’s overrated too and he only does it for fun. he’s fucked a number of people you know here and he said none of them makes him want to come back for seconds. when you told him about that experience you had he laughed, “dont sweat it baby, he just sucked at it. probably got too turned on by you he couldn’t last more than 5 seconds” maybe he’s right. alas, farleigh wouldn’t lie to you would he ? no, he’s too nice for that. so when you told him you’ve never done things with yourself and that you haven’t been touched for years it came off as such a shock to him. girls he know not only would play with themselves, they even practically throw themselves at him just to get fucked. knowing that you’re so— reserved, he felt like you just got purer, more precious in his eyes. sometimes he feels like a predator eyeing its prey. the way he would think of ways to corrupt you. but those are just bad silly thoughts at the back of his head. he’s too nice to act on them, right ?
your first day at saltburn could be easily described by the word ‘crazy’. everything is just crazy around here. from the towncar the cattons had sent to fetch you from the train station, the butler and footmen standing still at the huge beautifully carved doors welcoming you, the green carpet spread out as far as your eyes can lay upon, the greek sculptures scattered along the garden trails, to the seemingly nice people that are farleigh’s aunt and uncle. he was right, elspeth called you pretty. like bambi she said. you met venetia, the only other girl around your age living in the enormous estate. she seems happy to be getting a girl company for the summer, showing you around the house and always borrowing you from farleigh. he paid no mind towards the friendship that is forming between you and venetia, as long as you’re having the best time ever. he wants this summer to be able to compete with your previous amazing ones. you’re walking alongside venetia with your knitted beach totebag across the field, towards the lake when felix greets you. he’s just as tall as farleigh, maybe a little shorter by an inch but you can see the genes connecting them both. “heard you’re farleigh’s friend, how’d you know him ?” you smile at his question before giving a quick answer. “he helps me around campus, he’s always so kind to me—“ before you could say anything further, he scoffs in disbelief. “farleigh ? kind ? think you got the wrong bloke there mate” he shakes his head before skipping away towards the yellow hayfields, his hair flopping messily. you look at venetia who’s giggling at you, also shaking her head while raising her shoulders. frowning at her, you couldn’t get to bask in your confusion any longer as she takes your hand and drags you towards the boys.
seeing her strip off, you look around to see the boys already laying comfortably, clothes off. most of them are covered by the tall grass but you can tell that they’re not wearing anything. particularly cuz you spotted the discarded clothes that they were wearing at breakfast not far from you. as you start to lift off the hem of your top, you feels venetia’s hand on your arm. “you dont have to, it’s just a stupid thing we do” you nod at her words, a little relieved yet you feel like you’re gonna miss out from the real saltburn experience if you dont do it like them. so you follow venetia’s actions before settling on the ground, in between the tall grass. she starts giggling at you as you slowly burst into laughter, not noticing the burning glance trailing along the outlines of your body. the grass covering the most of you teasing him, depriving him of the sight he craves the most at the moment. thankfully felix is too caught up in his cig to notice him practically eyefucking you, putting his imagination to work like he’s some prepubescent horny teenager. you felt your saliva caught up in your throat when you noticed his naked body in the grass when you were looking around earlier, and you’ve been trying to shake off the image of his tan broad shoulders, glistening in sweat, beads of it dripping to his defined collarbones since. as he seems busy flipping through the pages of his harry potter book, you hope for his focus to stay on the lore as your eyes continue to scan his beautiful face, his luscious curls bouncing off his forehead. his shoulders propped up against the ground, looking firm and shiny from the sun
weird tingling sensation crawls across your body as you struggle to take your eyes off him, or his body. he looks so flawless in his glory, basking under the sunlight, the sweat clinging onto his skin making him glisten. the tingling you felt turns into heat, seemingly most prominent around your core. the more you try to ignore the heat, the weirder it feels until you notice the forming stickiness in between your folds. fuck. you wanted to panic badly yet you keep your composure around venetia, not wanting to let her know what’s happening. you look at farleigh who’s still laying on his chest, your eyes widen at the fact that it’s happening to you. he’s put a spell on you. he must have, cuz one second you were looking at him and now you’re wet. just like what your mom had told you about. internally panicking, you quickly grab your clothes and try to put them on without having to stand up, to avoid flashing the boys. just as you’re done, you abruptly get up on your kneews before venetia notices. “what’s wrong ?” you look at her, offering a smile to convince her nothing’s going on. “nothing, forgot my sunscreen” she gives you a look of approval before sliding her shades back down. your swift movements and walk back to the house catches farleigh’s attention as his eyes follow your disappearing figure into the distance. he puts his book down as he slowly reach for his clothes before patting felix at the back, to which he pays no attention to. he’s too busy listening into the earphones connected to his walkman with his head settled on his crossed arms. farleigh’s eyes notice your small figure stepping into the foyer before taking the turn leading to your assigned bedroom, the men in suits along the corridor eyeing you as they stand still. hastening his steps, he tries to catch you at the coridor before you got into your room but failed. you’d planned to check yourself out in the bathroom, see what’s actually going on down there, hoping that maybe it’s your period though that’s not for another 3 weeks. pushing your underwear down your thighs, you notice the colourless wet patch at the crotch. trying to make sure, you dip your fingers in between your folds to collect some of the stickiness. holding your fingers up, you feel your breath caught up in your throat. you feel like you could cry, you couldn’t believe farleigh would do this to you. he’s supposed to be nice and kind unlike other boys—
just as you step out of the bathroom your eyebrow quirks at the tall figure standing just infront of the door, his linen yellow polo tshirt hanging loosely on his shoulders, his fingers fiddling with each other. “w-what are you doing— you shouldn’t be here” your eyes struggle to find something to settle on, trying hard to avoid his direct gaze. “is something wrong ? why’d you leave ?” his eyes trail to yours, trying to catch them as you make way to the wardrobe, opening the doors to see your clothes that have been neatly arranged by the maids. looking through the compartments and drawers, you’re actually trying to find a fresh clean pair of underwear to replace your soaked ones. seeing you suspiciously try to run and avoid looking at him, you leave him no choice other than to grab your arm. his action makes you turn to face him, he steps closer before crouching so his face levels with yours, his eyes searching into yours. pursing your lips shut, you didn’t want to confront him for what he did just yet but now that he’s standing infront of you- you decide to finally look at him
“i- i cant believe you did this to me farleigh” he cocks his head, taken aback by your words, not having any idea what you may be talking about. before he asks you decide to spare him the pretending. “the spell” you continue in a stern voice. “what the— what spell ?” his voice pitch higher as his eyebrows quirk. you let out a sigh, “i looked at you in the fields, now im- your spell, now im— wet” he looks like he’s still trying to puzzle the pieces together. rolling your eyes “you must’ve casted a spell to get to me, otherwise how am i this- wet ?” you wince at your struggle to explain to him, having to say the word ‘wet’ so much cuz you don’t know how else to make him understand. his face drops in realisation, finally getting to guess what you’re trying to say, yet he’s still weirded out. “so…you think i casted a spell on you that makes you wet..?” you squint your eyes at his slow response, is he pretending to be innocent or what ? “who told you that ?” he asks. “who cares ? i thought you were nice” getting defensive, you’re starting to feel that you’re being ridiculous. you notice his shoulders drop, his stance softening as he throws his head back with a smile on his lips.
“oh poor baby,,” he starts, before stepping back towards the bed, sitting on it.
“—come here” he ushers you, to which you compliantly follow. he grabs your arm to position you so you’re facing him, as he looks up to find your face. you’re now as silent as a baby deer, waiting for him to say something. he begins to chuckle lowly as he shakes his head. “so you think because you’re wet from watching me in the fields, i’ve put a spell on you” he tsks, before continuing with his dark eyes boring into yours “how cute.” his hands start to touch yours, ghosting his fingers along your wrist, trailing up your arms. a shiver travels down your spine at his touch, your eyes search into his, multiple feelings creeping into your head that you struggle to focus on one. one thing you’re sure of is you don’t want him to stop doing whatever he’s doing. suddenly his hands start smoothing over the hem of your skirt, his fingers carefully playing with the waistband against your navel, maintaining eye contact the whole time with an amused look on his face. “maybe i should take a look at the affected area, see it it’s curable hm ?” he suggests, both his index fingers already hooked beneath the waistband. you nod at him, your mom never told you what to do if one gets put on that spell but it makes sense if he needs to be the one to heal you. as he was about to pull your skirt down he changed his mind, he has a better idea that is to just leave your cute frilly little skirt on. slowly bunching up your skirt from the hem, he has his bottom lip between his teeth. you feel heat finding its way on your cheeks as you hear him curse under his breath. “oh- you’re really wet baby” the nickname makes you lightheaded. “all this because of me ?” he says proudly at which you frown at his stupid words. why is he acting like this is an achievement ?
“yes now can you cure me ?” you’re becoming restless the way you can feel yourself getting wetter. that’s not a good sign, it just means it’s getting to you. you’re worried that it might go beyond curable and you’re stuck living with the spell forever. not giving you any response, his hand still holding your bunched up front skirt as his fingers graze the fabric of your panties. he trails his finger at the top, where he can feel his cock pulse seeing the tiny ribbon. your panties had turn a shade darker from its original colour from your wetness clinging onto it. suddenly you feel his thumb press at your crotch, earning a gasp from you. you quickly pull your skirt higher to look at what he’s doing. the thumb that was pressing against your sensitive nub now rubbing at the wettest part of your crotch, pushing and rubbing the fabric in between your folds. he’s making you feel so good you wanted to tell him to keep going. his fingers are now grabbing the fabric together, before pulling it up against your folds making you moan. you look at him with wide eyes, he’s not looking back at you as he’s busier tugging and rubbing the fabric against your pussy, an amused look on his face. he could just see you getting wetter and practically drenching your panties. “fuck,, you have such a pretty cunny” his words making your pussy tingle before you decide to urge him, “help me, farleigh”
he lifts his head, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “i can cure you. but you have to be good for me” you listen to his words carefully before nodding, “i can be good” he smiles as his hands slowly grab at your arms, turning you to face the full body mirror mounted against the wall infront of him before pulling you down to settle on his lap. he rests his chin in the crook of your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the reflection on the mirror. his fingers creep up to your thighs, playing with the hem of your frilly white short skirt. as you try to breathe steadily around him you feel your breath hitch at his fingers’ sudden movement smoothing along your inner thighs. your eyes instantly shoot to his fingers now disappearing under your skirt before getting the clear view of his fingers playing with the side hem of your flimsy panties after his other hand had bunch up your skirt to your waist. you feel his plump lips plant soft kisses on the crook of your neck, his eyes gazing directly into yours. as you feel his lips, you can’t help but look into his eyes in the mirror, not breaking eye contact as he continue his kisses and his fingers grazing very lightly on the wet fabric of your panties. “farleigh-“ you let out a soft moan. “you told me you’ve never touched yourself ?” you shake yout head at his question, head too hazy to give him actual words. “that’s a pity” you dont really get what he meant by that but you dont think you’re missing out much.
he takes your hand in his, guiding it to your core. “here” you crane your neck up to him, looking into his face. he looks down, meeting your gaze. “i’ll show you” you keep silent as you let him pull your thighs even further, placing them over his. you can see yourself sprawled out on his lap in the mirror, showcasing your glistening panties clad cunt. farleigh’s fingers pull the side hem of your crotch, holding them to the side as his other hand bring yours over. “try grazing your fingers over the little nub there” he instructs and watch closely as you do what you’re told. you moan as you feel the pressure against the sensitive part. he continues to guide you through touching yourself the way it would feel so fucking good, that you’re a whiny moaning mess. you feel heat on your cheeks the whole time, embarrassed by the fact that he’s watching you touch yourself. “now try one finger inside” he suggests, your head shot up to look at him. “it’s okay, it’ll feel even better” his large hand grab yours, showing you to your cunthole. you obey him, prodding a finger at the hole, yet you feel nothing but discomfort. “it doesn’t feel good, farleigh” he pushes your hand further, your finger now fully inside. you bite your bottom lip trying to hold onto yourself. “now curl your finger” you take a minute to steady yourself before doing what he told you to. once your finger hit that spongy spot, you let out a high pitched moan at the newly discovered sensation. farleigh smiles at your reflection in the mirror, “there you go” you experiment with the all new experience for you, you try curling your fingers multiple times against the spot as it gives you pleasure each time. farleigh watches you get lost in the sensation in the mirror, fucking yourself on your finger. his eyes darkened as he feels a dark, lust dripping need form inside him.
as you rapidly fuck your finger into your pussy, you feel knotting in your stomach, a weird tingling making you feel like you were gonna pee. “farleigh-“ you call out to him, your free hand grabbing his arm that were resting on your waist. “you’re close baby ?” you knit your eyebrows at his words, unfamiliar with the feeling. “keep going, you’re doing so good” he encourages, his lips kissing against your neck, trailing behind your ear. he sucks the skin at the back of your neck as he feel your breath getting faster and heavier. all the overwhelming pleasure is new to you yet it feels too good for you to stop. “you can cum princess, cum for me” you can feel yourself chasing after something, until it all comes crashing down, the orgasm washing over you as the sweat making your hair stick onto your forehead. he looks at you through the mirror, offering you a smile as he pushes the hair out of your forehead and wiping the sweat from your rose tinted hot cheeks.
“you did such a great job, baby” your breath hitch at the new nickname, yet your head is too clouded to say anything about it. he let you catch your breath in his lap, his hands roaming at your waist. “that should cure you” he says before pulling you up, he gets up himself as he places you carefully on the bed, you sit at the spot he sat in just now. though you feel relieved, you feel like you wanted more, you wanted more of him, more of whatever that was happening, the pleasure clouding your better judgement. “farleigh,,” you call out just as he was about to walk away. “let me do something for you” he turns, his lips pursed to hold himself back from smiling at the fact that you’re about to walk right into his trap. he walks back, standing right in front of you. “yeah ?” he says, as you start reaching up and tugging at his belt. your eyes notice the huge bulge at his crotch. “you’re- hard, boys like it when girls suck them off when they’re hard, right ?” you ask him, he moans at your words. “well yeah, but you don’t have to” you shake your head at him, “i want to” you’re quick to respond as he bites his lower lip to suppress the strings of curses he wants to let out. “you’re the sweetest- fuck,,”
you begin to unbuckle his belt as he watches you carefully. he could cum right this second just by looking at your pretty innocent looking face. “god, you’re so breathtakingly pretty” he compliments, earning a giggle from you. you’re gonna look even prettier with a huge cock stuffed in your mouth, he thinks. his eyes follow your hands, that are now taking out his cock from his briefs, your hands barely covering the size of his length. you take a deep breath before looking up at him through your lashes, batting them at him with your doe eyes. he smiles at you before throwing his head back once your tongue start kitten licking at his tip. his hand automatically reach up to rest at the back of your head as he watches you suckling his raging red wet tip. “am i doing it right ?” you ask him, worried that you might doing it wrong for your first time.
“fuck, right- its your first time” “just- try squeezing your hand around the base while you suck at the tip, fuck-” he suggests, his head getting light from all the blood rushing to his cock. his hand involuntarily pushes your head down, his cock fucking into your mouth. letting out a whimper, he struggles to keep his hips from buckling, his length hot and heavy on your tongue. your plump lips now wrapped around his cock, perfectly fit for you. smothering saliva all over it, your hands squeeze at the base, and the rest of it that you can’t fit in your mouth, his tip already prodding at the back of your throat. “so good baby, you’re doing so good- look so pretty with my big cock stuffed in your face, mhm” he says, sending familiar heat down your cunt, you feel it getting wetter as before. you try hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head back and forth, your lips wrapped nicely around his cock. you hear him let out a low guttural moan. you look up at him through your lashes, he’s throwing his head back from the pleasure, his hips slightly buckling into your mouth making you pull away.
catching your breath, you feel his large hands cupping your cheeks, smoothing over the skin. “you’re a natural, princess” you smile up at him, before trailing your eyes down to look at his length. he’s huge, his tip raging red with precum trickling down his length. you lean in to catch the drop of precum at the underside of his base, earning a curse from him, before he moans. “how are you already so good at this, fuck-“ you cant help but smile at his words before continuing your licking and sucking on his cock. its not long until you notice him twitching, cock jumping as his face contorts in pleasure. his hand reach up to wrap his fingers around him before he starts jerking himself off, his hand moving rapidly with his jaw hanging low, mouth agape. his voice cracks as he’s letting out a loud moan, before you watch him shoot ropes of sticky white mess, landing on your face, most covering your lips and cheeks, some on your collarbone. you’re shocked, a little weirded out by his cum sticking on your face but cant help letting out a giggle while looking up at him. he was catching his breath as he noticed you giggling, before letting out a laugh himself. He reaches up to your face, fingers collecting the cum before prodding them at your lips. You frown at his action, weirded out that he wants you to suck at his cum covered fingers. He nods, encouraging you, “you can taste” he offers, before you decide to give in, trusting him has been giving you bliss until now. You open your mouth as he pushes his fingers past your lips, your tongue lapping at the sticky substance. Humming, you look at him, “‘s sweet”
“well im glad” he chuckles
“you okay?” he asks as you nod before gaining the courage to tell him about the wetness forming again in your panties. “farleigh im- im wet again” he lets out a chuckle, “your cunny’s wet again ?” heat rushing up to your cheeks at his words as you shyly nod, embarrassed. “you do realise that just means you’re turned on right ? nothing to do with me putting a spell on you” he chuckles at the silly concept you believe in. you’re taken aback by his words, realisation hits. the first time was maybe explainable by your mother’s words, but the second time around, now that you’re wet again, he might be right. he sits on the bed before pulling you to sit on his lap, your legs settling on either side of him, straddling him this time. your eyes roam across his face, appreciating his beautiful features, his long lashes, his dark brown eyes, his thick eyebrows, they’re all so pretty to you. you reach your hand up to graze your fingers along his lips, feeling every lines and crooks, slightly pulling at his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss him.
he lets out a breath as he leans into the kiss, pressing his lips softly against your plump ones, savouring your flavour. your lips dance against his, pulling him closer to you with his large hands grabbing at your waist. the kiss is soft, and pure in some way, it feels like there’s only the two of you in the world at the moment. your first ever kiss with him. his lips moulds perfectly against yours, making you want to kiss him forever. he’s a good kisser too, effortlessly returning your kiss and offering his own, his tongue swiping across your lips. his hand on your waist start grabbing firmer, moving you back and forth against his thigh and crotch. he lets out a sigh as he pulls away for a moment, resting his forehead against yours as he looks down to see the tent in his pants forming again. he continues to lean into you, kissing you once again while he guides you to hump at his crotch. the material of his pants serving you a little bit of pleasure as you try to chase that orgasm you had discovered from earlier. “you can go faster if you want” he says, offering you his lap to help you get off.
“use me” he continues
you wrap your arms around his neck, your boobs pressed up against his chest to steady yourself. his hands continue to guide your pace by your waist as he plant soft kisses along the crook of your neck and your shoulders. the bulge in his pants rub against your soaked panties before you accidentally angled yourself that you’re humping against your clit. the tingling of pleasure spreading all across your body leaves you a moaning mess, causing him to buckle his hips against your pussy. “you’re doing great princess, does that feel good to you ?” he asks as his hand roam across your back, encouraging you to get yourself off on his lap. you nod at him, too caught up in the pleasure now that you’ve found your sweet spot. “can you use your words for me baby?” you whimper at his request as you arch your back against him. “feels- feels so good far’” you manage to let out before letting out a whine.
“that’s my girl” he smiles.
you continue to work yourself on his lap yet you feel like you need more. grabbing at his polo, his eyes search into yours before trailing down at your hands pulling up the hem. he helps you take of his shirt as you marvel at his toned chest, fingers grazing along his collarbone. your pace on his lap becomes stuttered, interrupted by you trying to undress him. his hands grab your roaming ones, stopping your eager movements. “what do you need ?” not responding to his question, you grab the hem of your top instead, pulling it off of you. farleigh’s breath hitch as he moan at the bouncing tits in his face. he grabs at your waist to get you to look at him, his eyes pleading for your permission. you return his gaze, looking into his eyes for a moment before slowly nodding. he maintains eye contact with you as he slowly poke his tongue out, licking at your nipples, looking at you through his lashes. the warm wet tongue against your sensitive bud makes you moan, as you feel the bulge underneath you twitch. he’s now mouthing at your mould, his tongue spreading saliva all over it, all while looking into your eyes. pulling away, he grabs at both of them “such pretty tits, fuck”. you moan at his words, beginning to rub your clit against his crotch again. “need- need more farleigh” you plead him, before he grabs your waist to lift you up and lay you on the bed. now that you’ve had a taste of him, you can feel your body crave for more. for all of him.
“yeah ? that sweet cunny needs more huh ?” a sudden rush of hear creeps up your cheeks as you raise your hands to cover your face from embarrassment. you feel like you’re all exposed to him, like a platter waiting to be devoured. “you’re so small, i don’t think i can fit-“ he begins, as he leans down to plant soft kisses under your boobs, trailing down to your stomach with his hands roaming across the soft skin. “i’m gonna try something” he slowly takes out his cock that was covered by the crotch of his pants, his belt clacking as he winces at the friction against his length. he rests his cock on your soaked panties, his length heavy and throbbing. you look down to see his size, his tip reaching your lower belly. “such cute panties, shame it’s all ruined now” he smirks at the flimsy fabric of your panties that is now drenched in wetness. tracing his fingers at the cute ribbon at the top, he uses both hand to lift the fabric, stickiness stringing in between it and your pussy. he pushes his cock underneath the fabric before pushing it down with his fingers, creating a tight friction for him. he hisses at the feeling, before looking up at your eyes attentively following each of his movements, curious to see what he’s doing.
“‘m gonna fuck this panties okay ? rub my cock against your little folds. it’ll feel good” he informs, to which you nod. after that pleasure of riding in crotch earlier at his orders, you’re excited to see what this one’s gonna feel like. you wear him let out a moan as he starts moving, his hips fucking into your panties, his wet throbbing tip prodding against your sensitive nub, earning a whine from you. he’s right, it does feel good. and he looks so hot doing so, his face contorting and eyebrows knitted. his mouth agape as he lets out moans while looking at his cock going in and out of your panties, the wetness making the fabric translucent that he can see his cock fucking against your folds through it. he pulls the edge and pushes the hem further down, creating an even better pressure against his cock, pretending he’s fucking into your tight pussy. “fuck,, bet your cunny’s tighter baby” your eyes widen at his dirty words, your hands covering your mouth as you bite the skin on your thumb. not knowing where or how you gained the sudden confidence, “y-you can feel it for yourself” you offer, eyes carefully looking at his face, nervous anticipating for his reaction. his cock twitch underneath your panties before he throws his head back at your words.
“fuck princess,, you can’t say things like that”
“like what” you’re borderline panicking that you might’ve said something weird
“i might not be able to stop once i get a taste of your cunny”
you’re silent at his response, not really understanding what he meant by that. you continue to let him fuck your panties, his tip bulging through the material with each thrust. his length against your folds and his tip prodding at your clit makes you moan in a high pitch, the shivers travelling down your spine making you arch your back. grabbing at his hands, he looks at you while he struggles to halt his movements, his eyes searching into yours. “can you put it inside ?” you shyly asks, wanting to feel what it’s like to have his cock inside you, wondering if it’s gonna be the same as your first time. “what ?” his eyes widen at your request. he wasn’t planning on stuffing you full, you’ve already given him so much than he’d planned. “yeah- wanna, wanna feel your cock inside” he swears he almost busted at your words, his cock now painfully hard. “are you sure ?” he asks innocently. he’s been wanting to fuck you ever since he first saw you, so saying this is just a fucking cover for him. a manipulator he is, and you’re like a bunny foolishly trapped. “yes please” you bat your lashes cutely at him making him smile. making you say you want him inside you is one thing, but making you say please ? he fucking won.
he takes out his throbbing wet cock from your panties, his length bouncing as he settles on his knees, his face now infront of your pussy. he kisses at the fabric clinging onto your folds, moulding against your every crooks perfectly. he reaches the waistband of your panties, his lips kissing at your inner thighs on either sides of his face before pulling the band off your legs. his hands grab at your thighs as he looks at you through his lashes, smiling. he looks at your pussy infront of him, “thank you” he says before leaning in to kiss at your clit softly. you giggle at his actions, saying thank you to your cunt like he’s grateful for the meal. he chuckles against your pussy before getting up to put the weight of his cock on it, your wetness spreading onto his length, covering it with your juices. he moves backwards a bit as he positions his tip at your entrance before pushing his head in. you whine at the feeling, even with only his tip you can feel its bigger than you remember. who are you kidding anyways ? he’s 6’5, of course he’s gonna be huge. you whimper as he continue to push into your pussy, you push through the sting, taking his length like a champ. biting down at the skin of your thumb, he didn’t bottom out before he starts pulling out slightly, and pushing back in again. it’s a tight fit, your walls wrapped perfectly around his length as you hear the squelching sound from all the wetness. you offer him a soft smile shyly making him throw his head back.
“you’re so cute- oh” his words stumble as he feels you clenching down around his cock. “oh fuck” as his slow thrusts become stuttered, you giggle at his reaction before clenching down again. and again. and again- that he’s now crouched down against you, his face settling in the crook of your neck. “you okay ?” you tease him, at which he lets out a strained chuckle. “y- cunny’s so tight baby” you hold onto his shoulders as he starts thrusting again, bottoming up in the process. moans and skin slapping bounce against the walls of the room, the overwhelming pleasure making you forget that you’re in saltburn, having notably the best summer. you let him continue fucking into your pussy, letting out whines and moans ever now and then at him founding and hitting at your sweet spot. it was easy for him to find, every spot is basically so sensitive to you, he could thrust at any spot and you’d cum instantly. which is what’s happening now. your high pitch moans and legs shaking against his tells him that you’re close. “you’re close princess, cum for me” you whine at his words, his fingers reaching down to toy at your clit, helping you chase that orgasm.
the added pleasure makes you moan louder, your eyes searching his for encouragement. he looks into your eyes, his soft brown gaze makes you feel safe before you look down at his fingers rapidly rubbing at your clit. screaming his name, your orgasm finally crashes down on you, your breath heavy as your chest move up and down. “that feel good yeah ?” he asks you, he’s also catching his breath from watching you riding out your orgasm before you feel his thrusts getting faster and sloppier. sounds of skin slapping all so dirty to you as you hear him let out uncontrollable moans before he takes out his cock. his fingers quickly wrap around his length before he starts jerking off rapidly while moaning. his eyebrows knitted and face contorts in pleasure as he lets out a loud moan before you see thick sticky ropes of white land on your stomach, and settling on your pussy. he catches his breath while looking at the mess he made on your body. he looks up at you, offering you a smile before mouthing a ‘sorry’. his hand reaches down to move the strands of hair sticking on your face away, before leaning down to kiss you. you smile at him as he says “you’re mine now you know that right ?” your eyebrows quirk at his words, sure you’d wanna be his but you don’t quite get what he’s saying.
“good girls fuck one cock, you’re stuck with me”
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taglist: @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @themoonchildwhofell @fuckshitslover @radioloom @love-me-pls @szapizzapanda @khxna
divider creds: @rookthornesartistry
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 month
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Looks like a group of guys from your college won’t leave you alone.
Oh would you look at that,
1940’s!MobBoss!Bucky Barnes
has got your back, and will continue to have your back forever.
(Also hi babes!!! 🤗🤗Thousand kisses from me to you! 💋💋)
Have Your Back Forever And Always » 40s Bucky Barnes
Pairings: Mob Boss!40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky steps in and saves you from the guys in your friend group who won’t leave you alone.
Warnings: Fluff, language, alcohol, smoking, unwanted touching, kissing, use of pet names
A/N: @amathslutsguidetofandom I love the thought of 1940s!Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes and decided to write it as a one shot🥰🩵
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
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“No thank you.” You say, politely turning down a drink from one of the guys you go to college with.
“C’mon, sweetheart. It’s just one drink.” Gerald says, wrapping his arm around your waist.
Bucky watched from the other side of the bar as you continued to politely turn the guys down, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. He could tell how uncomfortable you were.
“It’s just a drink, Y/N.” Fred says, putting his hand on your thigh.
That made you even more uncomfortable than you already were. Bucky downed the rest of his drink and made his way towards you.
“She said no.” Bucky says, standing behind Gerald and Fred.
“No one asked you, man.” Fred says.
“Why don’t you run along?” Gerald says.
Bucky chuckled before grabbing the back of their necks and slamming their heads against the bar counter, making everyone in the bar go quiet and look at them. You quickly stood up and backed away with wide eyes.
“How about you two run along?” Bucky says.
They were too scared to say anything so they just nodded their heads. Bucky let go of them and they stood up. They were about to bolt out of the bar when Bucky grabbed the back of their shirts.
“If I ever and I mean ever see you two near her again, I won’t hesitate to kick your asses, got it?” He says.
“Got it.” They say in unison.
Bucky let go of them and they sprinted out of the bar. You stood there with a surprised look on your face. No one has never done that for you.
“Are you ok, ma’am?” Bucky asks softly.
“I am now. Thank you.” You say, giving him a smile.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks.
“I’d like to know your name first.” You say.
“James Barnes.” He held his hand out for you to shake. “Everyone I know calls me Bucky.” He says.
“Nice to meet you, James.” You shook his hand. “I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself. “Now that we know each other’s names, I’ll accept that drink now.” You say with a smile.
You and Bucky took a seat at the bar counter and he ordered you two drinks.
“So tell me, doll face…” Bucky took a sip of his bourbon before asking his question. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing at a bar like this?” He asks.
“I go to the local college and I wanted to come here for a couple drinks after all the studying I’ve been doing lately.” You tell him.
“What are you studying?” He asks curiously.
“I want to be a nurse.” You say.
“That’s amazing. I hope all that studying pays off.” He says.
“I hope so too. I graduate next month.” You say.
You learned that Bucky is one of the most powerful men in Brooklyn, New York. You and Bucky spent the whole night talking and getting to know each other till the bar was about to close. He even offered to walk you home from the bar. Bucky being the gentleman he is, wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you close to him and to protect you.
“Thank you for saving me and for walking me home, James.” You say with a smile.
“You don’t have to thank me, babydoll. I have your back forever and always.” Bucky smiles. “If you don’t mind, I would like to see you again.” He says.
“I would absolutely love that.” You smiled. “I’m free tomorrow afternoon after school.” You say.
“Great so it’s a date.” He says.
Bucky cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately. Your hands grasped his suit jacket to steady yourself. Your lips moved in sync with his. It felt like everything around you guys was in slow motion. Bucky pulled away slowly, looking deep in your eyes.
“See you tomorrow afternoon, doll.” Bucky says softly.
“See you tomorrow, Bucky.” You say, smiling widely.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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cobrakaisb · 6 days
Text
call me, beep me, if you want to reach me
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summary: percy, annabeth, and grover have some great news about their quest, but something is off about their hypothesis  
word count: 2.8k
featuring: reader and annabeth’s relationship, slightly steamy reader and luke scene, more percabeth crumbs, fluff and angst  
author's note: IM BACKKKKK...this one took me forever, and i am so sorry about that! between finals, coming home from college, and just dealing with life in general it has been a real struggle BUT we are finally back on the luke train 🤩 and trust, these next few parts are about to get real...anyways, enjoy 💗
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you run to the top of the hill, calling out to the three kids before they can cross the protective barrier surrounding camp half-blood.
“i just wanted to wish you guys good luck before you leave, although i’m sure you won’t need it,” you explain, walking up to the trio. 
annabeth smiles at you. there’s an excited gleam in her eyes, and you remember how she’s been waiting for this for years -- her chance at glory.
“thanks,” percy mumbles, not really knowing what to say. 
“i just…be safe okay?” you whisper, hands gripping tightly at annabeth’s shoulders while you look directly at her. 
she nods, “i will. i promise.” 
you nod in agreement, lips pursed in a tight line as you struggle to keep your emotions at bay. over the course of your years at camp, the bond between you and annabeth has grown exponentially. you love her like a little sister, one you’d do anything to protect. it scares you to think about her, a twelve year old kid, in the real world with no one looking out for her this time. 
she senses your anguish, and pulls you into a tight hug. you freeze at first, not used to the affection from her, but ultimately wrap your arms around her small frame. the two of you stand there for a minute, embracing each other, but break apart when luke calls out to you from the bottom of the hill. 
“it’s time to go,” he yells, and you imagine his pointed look and crossed arms. luke was just as worried as you, but he found it necessary to hide those feelings, claiming it was best for annabeth’s sake. you disagreed. 
you nod, stepping away from the kids, back towards the chaos of camp, “i’ll see you at the solstice.”
you watch, with your stomach in knots from nerves and a mouth full of anxiety, as the kids step past thalia’s tree and into the world of monsters.      
that was almost four days ago, and still no word from the trio. percy, annabeth, and grover were on their quest to find and return zeus’s master bolt, but the radio silence worries you. while you didn’t expect them to call every day to say good night — they needed to save their dracmas — you at least expected some type of update by now. the lack thereof leaves a nervous feeling in your stomach; something isn’t right, you know it, but you can’t quite determine what. 
“those are called feelings sweetie,” katrina replies when you explain your current predicament to her.
you suck your teeth at her words, shoving her shoulder as you mumble, “shut up.”
“i’m being serious! since when do you care about three twelve year olds? no scratch that, since when do you care about anybody?” she shouts, throwing her hands up. 
you look down at your converse, arms crossing over your bent knees as you sit and look at the rippling water. i care about luke, you think, and all those kids who will never experience a true family thanks to our parents. i care about you, and our friendship. i care about grover, who’s too kind for his own good. the list goes on and on, but you don’t say any of those names out loud. 
instead you respond with, “i care about annabeth.”
katrina openly scoffs at your words, leaning back on her palms. “oh please, i’m talking about that little blonde.” 
you sigh, looking at her over your shoulder. her short hair rustles in the breeze, and the unruly curls from spending the day in the water makes her possess a childlike innocence. if you didn’t know katrina, you’d think she was a sweet girl who’d chew you out for swearing, but you do know her; she’s anything but, and the constant taunting and teasing proves that. 
“there’s something different about percy,” you explain with a shrug. 
“yeah, it’s called your need to play mommy,” she mumbles. 
“oh shut up,” you gripe, getting up from your spot on the dock. you make sure to kick her calf, not too hard, on your way back to hera’s cabin. 
“harder,” luke commands, despite the sweat dripping down both of their faces. 
percy groans, throwing his head back in frustration. they’ve been going at it for hours, practicing various techniques and maneuvers with wooden swords. while percy’s claiming was still new, and his slaying of the minotaur with no experience was still the talk of the camp, it was obvious to everyone that he needed to train. there’s an impending war coming, and the blonde boy has found himself right in the middle of it. 
but he doesn’t even know what it is, you think, stepping into the dirt of the practice arena. 
“give him a break, luke. he needs some hydration,” you exclaim, holding up two refillable water bottles. 
they’re dripping in condensation, the ice from the pavilion already melting in the sweltering heat courtesy of long island summers. luke grumbles something under his breath, probably about how he doesn’t need a break, but takes the bottle from you with a squeeze of your hip. he stays close to your side as he drinks the water, and instead of giving him your attention, you’re busy looking over percy. 
“there’s a cut on your forehead,” you say, pushing back some of his curls to get a better look. 
“yeah, your boyfriend nicked me,” he replies, gesturing to luke with his chin. 
“it was an accident! how many times do i have to tell you?” luke defends.
“a lot more. i’m great at holding grudges,” percy announces, and you roll your eyes. 
“and that’s why you’re becoming friendly with annabeth?” you tease.
luke raises his eyebrows at your statement, looking over at the smaller boy, whose cheeks are suddenly a very dark shade of red. 
“that’s different,” he grumbles, pouring the remaining water on his head. 
“uh huh, right. whatever floats your boat i guess,” you reply, patting his cheek in a motherly fashion. percy swerves with an eye roll fit for a teenager. 
“anyways, i’ll let you guys get back to it,” you announce, turning to face luke. 
you kiss his cheek, and his palm splays across your waist. he gives it a gentle squeeze, a small sign of affection in a hasty moment. you smile at him, leaning into his chest to whisper, “go easy on him.” 
“he’s training with the best swordsman in camp, he knows what to expect,” luke replies, cocky as ever, as you pat his sweaty chest three times before walking away. 
the training arena is packed when you arrive, brimming with younger kids and blaring noisy chatter. they’re all clad in some sort of battle armor: shields, bronze chest plates, and celestial bronze swords. it takes a minute for them to notice your presence, but when they do they part like the red sea. most of them have the sense to keep quiet, watching you with nervous eyes and wary glances, fueled by the words of their older siblings no doubt. others, the more gutsy of the bunch, have the courage to whisper the exact words they heard from their siblings, warning their friends about you and your anger. you, however, are focused on finding the tallest head amongst the group; the one housing messy, onyx curls. 
“he’s up front, helping jimmy with his armor,” a young girl whispers shyly, drawing designs in the dirt with the tip of her sword.
you stop walking, turning to face her. she’s young, no older than eight, and you feel the edges of your hard exterior soften from the sight of her pigtails and pink twinkle toes. you smile softly at her, hoping that it doesn’t scare her off. 
“thank you,” you say, “i love your shoes.” she smiles at your words, giggling quietly to herself as a small blush coats her cheeks. 
just as she goes to answer, luke appears at your side with, who you can only assume, is jimmy. you smile softly at him, ready to explain why you’re here in the first place, but luke beats you to it:
“let me just give them some instructions, then we can talk, okay?” he whispers, his free hand taking its place on the small of your back.
you hum in agreement, watching fondly as he takes charge of the large group of young demigods. he instructs them to practice the methods he just demonstrated in pairs, explaining that he’ll be walking around to give feedback once he’s done talking to you. as the kids partner up, he leads you to the side of the arena, where he finally meets your gaze with a raised brow. 
“what?” you ask, crossing your arms at his confused stare. 
“you never come here while i’m teaching lessons,” he answers.
“well, maybe i’m starting to,” you reply. 
luke scoffs at your words, “no shot. what’s really going on?” 
“i could be!” 
“but you’re not. you hate their judgy, beady, little eyes. so, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours to make you seek me out while i’m in the middle of lessons?” he continues, his fingers playing with the waistband of your shorts. 
you take a deep breath, meeting his chocolate brown eyes on the exhale, and state your concerns: “i’m worried. why haven’t we heard from them yet? it’s been days, and it’s not like annabeth to keep us completely in the dark.” 
luke sighs at your words, “i’m sure they’re fine.” 
you raise your eyebrows at his unexpected answer. this is luke, the same guy who refused to let you and annabeth out of his sight during capture the flag, talking? not a chance. 
“so you’re not worried, at all?” you ask, searching for the true reason behind his lack of worry. 
luke clenches his jaw at your words, looking away from you as he stares off into the distance. his eyebrows furrow, and you can see something flicker across his face. you don’t know what it is, but you know he’s battling something within himself. 
“luke?” you ask softly, resting your hand on his bicep. 
he shakes his head, a carefree smile taking over his face as he says, “it’s annabeth. she’s the smartest, most careful person i know. nothing’s wrong.” 
you eye him warily, and nod your head slowly, “right. i guess i’m just overthinking.” 
luke smiles, a teasing look in his eyes as he nudges your foot with his own. you look up at him, a breathy laugh escaping your lips as you meet his playful gaze. 
“you always are,” he mumbles, followed by a loud laugh as you shove his shoulder. 
he plants a quick kiss on your temple, hands rubbing up and down your sides before whispering, “i’ll stop by your cabin tonight. once they’re all tucked in.” 
you hum in agreement, watching as he departs from your side and heads to the closest duo to provide feedback.  
****
the door creaks open, and luke slips inside before the harpies register the noise. you’re already awake, patiently waiting for him on the singular cot in the cabin. the eternal flames of the fire pit burn brightly, leaving dangerous shadows on your face, illuminating the storm brewing inside. 
“you’re late,” you quip, not even bothering to look up from your book. 
you’re laying on your stomach, propped up on your forearms with a paperback book in your hands. you’re in your usual sleep attire, shorts and a tank top, and luke has to physically hold back a groan. he’s never wanted you so badly in his life, but instead of expressing that desire, he apologizes for his actions.
“some of the younger campers were arguing, you know i had to settle that,” he whispers, burying his face between your neck and left shoulder. 
luke kisses your bare skin, slightly warmed from all the sun you’ve been getting recently. your head tilts, giving him access to more skin, and he doesn’t deny that. his lips move to your neck, leaving more than a few marks. 
“careful. hera’s watching,” you tease, closing the cover of your book. 
“let her,” he mumbles, practically moaning when you thread your fingers through his hair. 
“oh you’d love that,” you taunt, tugging on his curls. 
luke’s right arm wraps around your waist, flipping you onto your back, while his left pushes your book to the floor. your mouth falls open in shock, and you gasp quietly. he smirks at your expression, feeling satisfied to have you speechless. before you can ruin the moment, he captures your mouth with his. 
the kiss is rough, all tongue and teeth. his left hand settles next to your head, while his right tugs your hips closer to his. your fingers are still lodged into his curls, and you use them to keep his face pressed against yours. he pulls back, gasping for air, but keeps his forehead planted against your skin. before he can reconnect your lips, you’re kissing all over his face.
“missed you,” you murmur in between kisses. 
luke sighs, relaxing into your arms as the tension from camp counselor duties and other activities leaves his body. he knows eventually he’s going to have to tell you. he thinks it will be something like ripping off a band aid. but, for now, when he has you so eagerly in his arms, and he’s content with baring the brunt of the burden. besides, the kids aren’t even close to figuring out the truth, he’s sure of it. 
****
“we know who stole the bolt,” percy announces, nothing but confidence in his voice. 
luke falters, but only for a second, before asking, “how do you know?”
immediately, annabeth starts rambling. she mentions an encounter with ares, how he knows who the thief is, but was clearly covering for them. as she talks, luke realize that their suspicions are anything but correct, in fact, they’re so far into leftfield it’d be considered a homerun. yet, he runs with it, not willing to give himself up.
“so who would ares cover for?” annabeth finishes, waiting for luke to answer. 
“his favorite daughter. clarisse is the lightning thief,” he answers, making sure to sound shocked by their groundbreaking discovery. 
“chrion’s got to arrest her, find out what she knows. there’s more to this than just the bolt, something bigger,” percy explains.
luke and annabeth share a look of uncertainty, one that percy picks up on because he quickly adds, “don't ask me how i know, you’ve just got to trust me.” 
as luke is about to assure the kids that he’ll get to it straight away, you walk into the office. 
“talking to yourself again, castellan? i knew you were crazy but not this off the rocker,” you tease, stepping closer to his side. 
as you approach, you see the faces of annabeth and percy in the mist. you smile at the sight of them. while they look tired, they seem pretty intact and much better off than you expected.
“how’s your quest going?” you ask, hoping to hear some positive news. 
“not too bad. between ares, the chimera and medusa, i’d say we’re doing pretty good,” percy exclaims.
your eyes widen at his words, and you look to luke to see what his reaction is, but he’s not even looking at you. instead he’s watching the two demigods arguing about which monster occurred each day. he smirks at the sight of them, gently bumping his hip with yours before saying, “what is this?”
“what?” annabeth answers, confusion written all over her face. 
“since when did you guys turn into an old married couple?” luke continues to tease, and you smile at the kids’ shocked faces. percy blushes at luke’s comment, and annabeth makes a point to avoid your gaze.
“not to change the subject, but we need your advice luke. we’re going to vegas and…” before percy can say another word, the iris message cuts out, the connective screen dissipating along with the rainbow that brought it here.
“well that was entertaining,” you joke, turning to face your boyfriend. 
you expect him to laugh at your words, but his face is set into a hard line. his arms are crossed and jaw clenched as he stares at the spot where annabeth and percy’s faces were previously occupying. his thoughts are clearly running a mile a minute, and you step into his line of sight, calling out to him. 
“they think they know who the lightning thief is,” he grumbles, gaze still distant and cold. 
“what? who?” you ask, stepping closer to him. while it’s only the two of you in the room, you don’t want to risk anyone else hearing; this isn’t the sort of thing that should be spread around camp, even if you hate the majority of the people here. 
“clarisse,” he starts, “but they’re wrong.” 
“how do you know?” you ask, nothing but confusion plastered all over your face. 
“because it’s actually me,” luke replies, finally meeting your gaze.
taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles @dracoslovergirl @vanessa-rafesgirl @l1a-pjosversion
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thiswaytwoinfinity · 1 month
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it’s a bad idea, right? - part 1: can’t two people reconnect
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Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader • inspired by sleeping with other people
Warnings: no use of y/n or physical description of reader except they have hair that can be tucked behind their ears, implied smut, this chapter is fine but future installments will be 18+
It’s finally here! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient about this fic; I was dealing with some rough personal stuff and lost all my inspiration but it’s back now and I’m happy to be writing about everyone’s favorite cocky flyboy.
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There’s something about a sticky summer night when you’re 22 that makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.
It’s the third bar that your new roommates have dragged you to tonight, there’s a cocktail sweating in your hand and the bass from the stereo thudding through your head. You’re not sure if the grin on your face is from the watching all of the wannabe cowboys go flying off the mechanical bull in mere milliseconds or from the possibilities of newfound adulthood laid out in front of you. In this moment, it’s hard to imagine that you were ever scared about moving halfway across the country — away from your family, your hometown and your high school sweetheart who always thought you’d move home after college — to Austin.
In this moment, you feel free. You feel invincible. You feel like this is a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
 
“Okay, the bar is a madhouse but I managed to get another round!” Anna shouts as she makes her way back to the table, tossing her long dark hair behind her before plopping the tray of shots down in front of you and your new friends. “And there’s a new rule!”
Everyone groans in unison; Anna loves to make up drinking games, handing out shots and beers with a new rule or bet that is guaranteed to leave someone embarrassed before the night’s over.
“Oh, stop. Shit like this is how we become lifelong best friends, trust me, I read about it online,” she fires back, rolling her eyes and handing shots to you and the three other girls at the table before taking one in hand. “It’s simple. Last one to finish their shot has to ride the mechanical bull.”
“Bitch, are you trying to kill us?” Erin asks, shooting a sideways glance at Katie, who’s eyeing up her shot glass like she’s trying to strategize the best way to drink it. The two of them are sisters — “Irish twins, it’s a whole thing,” Erin explained when you first moved in — are hyper-competitive and curse like sailors. You loved them instantly.
Your tiny hope of not being the one to end up on the bull dies when you look over at Taylor, who managed to throw back her tequila when nobody was watching. “What?!” she asks, curls bobbing in the bun on top of her head as she takes in everyone’s looks of confusion and frustration. “Anna never said we had to start at the same time.”
It’s like a starting pistol went off at the end of her sentence because before you know it, Erin and Katie are both biting into limes while Anna is swallowing down the liquor with a grimace. Shit.
You do your best to catch up but it’s too late. You, the girl who grew up nowhere near Texas and have never actually seen a bull in real life, are going to have to ride one in front of this entire bar.
Years later you won’t remember the details of the bet, how your friends whooped and hollered as you made your way over to the bull with shaky knees or how the operator took pity on you when you immediately slid off and offered you a second try. The song that was playing is lost to time, as is the actual feeling of riding the bull for a whole half second.
What you will remember, though, is sliding across the tarp to rest right by a group of athletic looking guys and the strong, tan hand that reached down to help you stand up.
You’ll remember the backwards Longhorns cap on his head, the way his green eyes flashed with amusement and the blinding white of his smile as he helped you to your feet, hand lingering just a moment too long in yours. You’ll remember the way it felt like someone had set off fireworks inside of you, fingers tingling where they touched his skin and your stomach swooping like you were on a roller coaster.
You’ll remember exactly what he said to you: “Well, that was definitely the most entertaining attempt of the night.”
You giggled, a little dazed by his chiseled features, by the way he seemed to only see you in that moment, by the force of his charisma.
 “I’m Jake. What’s your name, beautiful?”
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For a Thursday night, the Hard Deck was surprisingly packed.
The Daggers had managed to claim their usual spot by the pool table, but despite their cramped quarters they practically had to shout over the sounds of drunken sailors and the oldies blasting out of the jukebox to be heard. The table next to Bob was crowded with beer bottles, the bespectacled WSO having waved off Penny when she stopped by to clear them, promising the group would clean up after themselves. Natasha and Bradley were in the middle of some kind of dumb darts competition, being heckled by Bob and a tipsy Rueben, who had his arm slung around the former’s shoulders for balance.
Jake took in the scenery, smug grin on his face, before sinking his final pool ball with a flourish.
“And that’s game, gentlemen,” he said, turning to Javy and Mickey, who were shaking their heads with frustration.
“Can’t believe I let you talk me into betting against him,” Mickey sighed, shuffling through his wallet for a $20 bill. Javy just shrugged and threw a playful punch against his friend’s shoulder, before asking for a rematch.
“Let that be a lesson, Fanboy,” Jake chuckled, making a big show of examining the bill before pocketing it. “Never bet against Jake Seresin. They call me a golden boy for a reason.”
“Who’s ‘they?’ Everyone we know just calls you a dick,” Nat called out, making her way back to the table for her drink. Taking a look at the chaos on the table, she rolled her eyes before starting to gather up a handful of empty bottles. “C’mon, Fanboy. Help me clear some of these and I’ll buy you a beer to drown your sorrows in.”
He ran over to help, allowing Javy to slide over to Jake and elbow his buddy in the side.
“10 o’clock, there’s a whole table of pretty ladies. The blonde’s had her eye on you all night and her friend with the locs is crazy hot,” he murmured, as Jake took a subtle look over at the table in question. 5 or 6 women were crammed into a booth, and judging by the tiara on one of their heads, they were out celebrating a birthday. “Wingman?” the younger aviator asked, holding out his fist for Jake to bump it.
For a half second, he contemplated turning his best friend down.
It wasn’t like Jake wasn’t attracted to the blonde, who was, indeed making eyes at him from across the room. She was exactly his type, all bright smiles and smokey bedroom eyes, her curves and long legs poured into tight jeans. She had an air of confidence that made it clear she knew just how hot she was.
He knew that if he strolled over and gave her his best All-American smile and some of that Southern charm, he could probably win her over. They’d flirt and dance a bit and then he’d drive them back to one of their places, have some decent-to-excellent sex and he’d be asleep shortly after midnight.
It seemed fun. It seemed obvious. It seemed, quite honestly, a little boring to him.
Maybe it was because he turned 35 a few months ago and the idea of going home to his own bed after a night out was starting to seem more and more appealing to him. Maybe it was because he spent so much time trying to convince his fellow Daggers that he wasn’t a complete asshole that he didn’t want to risk them changing their minds again.
Or maybe he was just a little jealous.
Jake would see the way Rueben’s face lit up when he talked about his wife, how he would brag about every milestone his 3-year-old daughter was reaching. He felt awkward about his lack of wedding knowledge when a pink-eared Bob would ask the squad for their opinion on something for his upcoming nuptials. He’d try to ignore the weird sinking feeling in his stomach when he’d overhead Nat and Mickey picking out a restaurant for their weekly brunch double date with their respective girlfriends.
And despite the fact that he had spent most of his adult life doing whatever he could to avoid those kinds of situations, now he was starting to wonder if maybe … maybe he’d be a little happier if he had been able to settle down with someone of his own.
Oof. That thought made Jake’s chest tighten uncomfortably. So he pushed it down, smiled as wide as he could and first bumped Javy. “Wingmen for life, Coyote. Lead the way.”
 
If you had to spend one more minute squeezed up against this bar, wedged between a couple aggressively making out and a trio of rowdy Navy men who were trying to sing along to Queen, you were going to scream.
“Just come for a drink or two. This place is super chill for a Navy bar, I promise,” you muttered darkly under your breath, repeating the words your friend and new coworker had used to convince you to come out tonight.
Between a frantic weekend spent unpacking all of your belongings into your new studio apartment and a very long first week at your new job, all you had wanted to do was bury yourself under a blanket and watch Real Housewives until your brain melted out of your ears.
But you were trying to be more social. You wanted to focus more on your friendships. Do things that were good for you. That was the whole point of this move.
So instead, you were leaning so far over the bar top that you could feel the edge digging into your ribs, shouting a drink order at the (admittedly, very sweet and slightly overwhelmed) bartender. She had just placed the two beers and margarita you had asked for down in front of you when another hand appeared and tried to snatch them up.
“Hey!” you yelled, tossing the bills in your hand onto the bar as you reached up to catch the offender by the wrist before they made off with your hard-won drinks. “Asshole! Drop them, those are my beers! What the fuck?”
You swiped up the cocktail with your free hand, lest it meet the same fate and turned around to see what kind of absolute monster thought they had the right to steal drinks.
Annoyingly, he was beautiful.
Tall and broad, with sun-kissed skin and a blindingly-white smile, which held a hint of sheepishness as he realized that he had been caught red handed. There was something familiar about the way he ducked his head a little, before peering at you from beneath his eyelashes.
“Sorry about that, ma’am. I thought those were mine. Didn’t mean to steal from you,” his low, twangy drawl went right through you, settling warm and comfortingly in your stomach. “I’d offer to buy you a drink to make it up to you, but, well …”
Texas. That’s where that accent is from, you thought, instantly being transported back to your nursing school program in Austin. How many wannabe cowboys had spoken with that same drawl, trying to charm you and your friends during a night out? Not too many of them had succeeded with you, especially not after —
“Jake? Jake Seresin!?”
It had to be him. You’d know that smile anywhere, had seen those green eyes in your dreams for far too long after you both had moved on. He was bigger now, muscles more pronounced and jaw more defined, more of those cheeky smile lines creasing around his eyes. His voice was deeper too, some of his accent smoothed out after years in the military, but it had to be.
He swore under his breath, eyes widening as he made the connection as well. He practically whispered your name, as if it felt a bit rusty on his tongue, but the second you nodded, he repeated it louder, warmer, like he was slipping back into his favorite jacket.
“Shit, how long’s it been?” Jake wondered aloud, looking you up and down as if to make a note of every infinitesimal change that had occurred since you last saw each other. “You look amazing, darling. Beautiful as ever.”
You rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Jake always had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the room — but then again, he made everyone feel that way, as you later found out. “You look good too, Seresin. Like a proper, respectable Navy man,” you concede, though the words don’t sound nearly as begrudging as you hoped.
You’re rewarded with one of those thousand-watt grins and for a second, you’re back in a Texas dive bar, flirting with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen to the tune of some cheesy country-rap remix.
“I am good,” Jake promises, eyes locked on yours, and you think he might be back there with you, leaning up against the jukebox, the floors sticky under your feet. “I don’t know how respectable I am, but I am definitely good.”
His voice drags out that sentence, low and flirtatious, and butterflies fill your stomach the same way they did all those years ago. You can practically feel the ghost of his big hands on your hips, your lower back, caressing your cheek as the world disappeared around you that night, just the two of you creating your own little world in the corner of that dingy bar. Your lips part — to say what, exactly, you’re not sure — and you see his eyes drop to them for just a moment before —
The woman behind the bar calls out “Hangman!” with a tone of voice that makes it clear that it’s not the first time she’s said it and you both startle and turn to see her holding four bottles of beer out towards Jake, a look of exhaustion on her face. He jumps forward to take them, apologies pouring from his lips and he pointedly shoves several bills into the tip jar in order to earn an eye roll and a small smile from her. Two sweating bottles in each hand, he turns back to you and almost seems a bit relieved that you’re still standing there. (As if you’ve ever been able to walk away from him.)
“I have to drop these off with my friends,” Jake says, nodding to a table somewhere behind you, “And you should probably get those drinks to the people who sent you over here. But do — do you wanna catch up? There’s a deck out back with some tables, it’s usually pretty quiet this time of night.” He waits for you to nod, before pressing a quick kiss to your cheekbone. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”
With one more charming smile, he’s off into the crowd and — not for the first time in your life — you’re left speechless and a little stunned, staring after Jake Seresin.
 
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You’re not sure if the goosebumps on your arms are from the chill of the California evening or the way that Jake hasn’t stopped staring at you since he joined you outside on the deck. You shift slightly against the wooden bench of the picnic table, overwhelmed by the intensity of having all of the blonde’s attention on you again for the first time in a decade.
“So …” you begin, and your voice seems to startle Jake out of his thoughts slightly. “You’re a California boy now? I never thought you’d ever leave Texas.”
He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Well, when Top Gun calls and offers you a permanent station, you’d be a fool not to accept. And not to brag, but they do only offer that to the best of the best.”
“Please, Seresin. You love to brag,” you fire back, watching those green eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Well, it’s not bragging if it’s the truth. And the truth is, darling, that I am one hell of a pilot.” Jake takes a swig from his beer, before leaning a bit closer into you, like he wants to study your reactions. “What about you? What brings you out to sunny San Diego?”
“New job,” you say shortly, shrugging your shoulders as nonchalantly as possible. “Moved from the ICU to the ED, so I figured a change of location would go well with a change of pace.”
Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and you hope he can’t tell. There’s no reason to tell your ex — boyfriend? Fling? — whatever that you followed a guy out here, especially since that whole — relationship? Affair? Complete and utter heartbreaking disaster? — situation crashed and burned almost immediately.
“Mmhmm,” Jake says, as if he can tell that’s not the whole story, and he takes another sip before seemingly deciding to let you off the hook. “And what did you boyfriend have to say about moving halfway across the country? Or did someone manage to finally lock you down after all these years?”
There’s a small, sinking feeling in your stomach as you think about the real reason you moved here for a brief, heartbreaking second.
“No boyfriend. No husband, either,” you say, wiggling your left hand at him in order to illustrate your point, and clock the way his eyes almost look relieved by the sight of your empty finger. “What about you, Seresin? Where’s your sweet, Southern wife?”
He laughs, a little cocky but a little hollow at the same time. “You know I don’t really do commitment, darlin’,” he jokes and, boy, do you, nights of watching him flirt with other girls while you pouted in the corner of the bar flashing in your brain. You take a long swallow of your beer — just like you used to swallow down your pride back then — and roll your eyes at him.
“I swear, you look exactly the same when you roll your eyes like that,” Jake says, his smile softening around the edges. “Nobody ever managed to make it quite as cutting as you.”
“Nobody’s ever been quite as annoying as you,” you fire back, but there’s no real heat behind it. Jake’s eye light up like you just gave him a compliment rather than pointing out that he knew exactly how to press your buttons when you were younger.
“I seem to remember you used to like it when I was able to make your eyes roll. Or, at least, when I could make them roll back into your head …”
You sigh, doing your best not to let on how much that comment made your face heat with decade-old memories of you two tangled up in your sheets. “There it is …” you begin, but he just leans into you a little more, those green eyes traveling all over your face as he speaks.
“I’m just reminiscing, that’s all. Can ya blame me? You’re still so beautiful …” Jake responds, one hand reaching out to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek as he pulls away and you hope you can explain away the goosebumps that erupt on your skin as a product of the ocean breeze. “And I spent a lot of time trying to get you all worked up back then. Force of habit.”
You could give into it.
Allow the sheer force of Jake’s charisma and good looks to carry you away on a wave of old memories. The chemistry that always fizzled between you is clearly still there, the butterflies that have laid dormant in your stomach all this time just waiting for an excuse to be let free once again. It would be easy.
And it would be good — you two had always been good at the physical stuff. He was so gorgeous in so many ways and surprisingly generous when you were in bed. (Jake always took pride in being the best of the best, after all).
But once you woke up tomorrow morning, after all of the awkward goodbyes and the promises to call, then what? Jake Seresin doesn’t commit; he made that clear.
And you were still bruised from your last mess of a relationship, your heart feeling tender and aching in your chest most days. There’s no way that this doesn’t end the same way it did a decade ago, with you sobbing uncontrollably and Jake moving on to the next beautiful girl who manages to hold his attention.
So, with a self-control you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull yourself out of Jake’s undertow.
“Seresin, I … that’s probably a bad idea,” you say softly, eyes dropping down to the tabletop in between you. “I just got out of a relationship and I’m not in a place —”
He cuts you off by tilting your chin up to look at him and then making a point to pull his hands back and keep them to himself.
“Hey, hey, I get it. No worries. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, darlin’” Jake explains in a rush. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, force of habit.”
You huff out a laugh and another eye roll and you can see him fight a grin at your reaction. “Only you would describe flirting with someone as a habit, Jake.”
“Well, I’m one of a kind.”
“Shut up, Seresin,” you giggle, glad to be back on solid, friendly ground with him.
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 Two hours later, Jake sent you off with a hug and his phone number as you and your friend climbed into an Uber and set off for home. She had a few questions about the “dreamboat” of a Naval aviator that you had apparently dated back in school, but was a little too excited about recounting her own evening to push you for details. It wasn’t until you arrived back at your apartment and collapsed on your couch that you realized Jake had been texting you the whole time you were in the car.
Unknown: It’s Jake 🫡😜🤠⭐️🍻🏈😉
Unknown: Hope you get home safe, beautiful. It was great to catch up with you.
Unknown: And I would be an embarrassment to the U.S. Navy if I didn’t at least offer to be your tour guide around San Diego
Unknown: I know all the best spots after all
Unknown: So text me if you want to grab lunch or something
Unknown: Or if you finally want to learn how to surf
Unknown: But give me fair warning beforehand, I remember how bad your balance is lol
 
You: lol I forgot you text every single thought in your brain
You: but having a tour guide sounds nice
You: we could get brunch this weekend and you can give me the highlights?
 
You had only just begun to take your shoes off, resigned to finally get off the couch, when your phone pinged.
 
Jake 🤠 🧡: I know just the place
You gave his text a quick thumbs up and got ready for bed smiling the whole time.
-—-—-—-—-—
Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! I don’t know if I’m going to have a regular schedule with this or anything, but I will do my best! Thank you for reading about the absolute menace that is Jake Seresin
Tagging some people who asked:
@tvshowgirl81 @redbarn1995 @stoneyggirl @keepingitlokiii @averyhotchner @dizzybee03 @olliepig @lynnevanss @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem @mamaskillerqueen @kmc1989 @hookslove1592
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minnesota-fats · 2 years
Text
Jason and Jazz becoming friends through a pen pal thing at school that would send emails and letters back and forth—even after the project ended—until one day when Jazz never got a reply to one of her letters, she kept sending them despite not getting a reply up until she moves out from home and to Gotham for college.
Jason never got to reply because he had died and Bruce and Alfred didn’t have the heart to open letters that were for Jason and couldn’t bring themselves to actually write to this kid who was Jason’s pen pal. If they had actually read the letters they would have learned that Amity Park was overrun with ghosts and that Jazz was scared for her baby brother and living in a very neglectful home. They would have learned that Jazz was lonely and that she missed her friend and that the only think keeping her sane are these letters that she is writing to her one and only friend, Jason.
When Jason finally starts talking to the family and even goes to a few dinners—that usually end poorly, but we won’t talk about that!—and Alfred gives him a pile of envelopes tied together neatly addressed to him in numerical order. Jason is confused for a second until it clicks and these were from Jazz and that she had never stopped sending him letters. He takes them home and cry’s for a bit because his friend never stopped writing him, even when he was dead. Then Jason READS THEM!!! And becomes increasingly concerned after each letter ranging in detail and severity such as, “my home town is being overrun by the undead,” to “I’m scared for my brothers safety, Jason.”
And then the final one saying, “now that my brother has graduated high school Im taking him and moving to Gotham, this will be my last letter. You are my best friend!”
The rest is up to you guys!
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