#also this is the second time i’ve ever written a game of never have i ever in a fic lmaooo

[wqnwoos]

seventeen & touch-starved s/o (hhu ver.)

an / entirely written for a friend of mine but here. also whoever is reading this i love u have a good day 💓💕💖💗💞💘💝💖💞💕💗

vocal unit ver.

SEUNGCHEOL.

bear hugs that are somehow simultaneously gentle but also tight

props his chin on your head/shoulder

murmurs in your ear a couple times to make sure you’re alright

“hello?”

“hi,” you say softly into the phone. “um. it’s me.”

you can hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice when he replies. “hi, baby. everything okay?”

“yeah!” you respond, too quickly with a voice pitched slightly too high. “everything’s fine! just… gonna go to bed now, i think.”

“i’m on my way home right now.” cheol answers the unasked question with ease. “don’t worry, baby, you’ll get your cuddles.”

which is why he’s unsurprised when you’re waiting by the door the moment he arrives home, clad in your pyjamas with a freshly-washed face, flinging your arms around his neck the moment he crosses the threshold.

WONWOO.

will quite literally let u do anything

most patient man fr

his hands, his hair, his thigh — it’s free real estate (but only for you)

it’s nearing 1 in the morning when you start missing wonwoo’s touch.

he’s not far, just on soonyoung’s couch. dinner had turned quickly into drinking games — you’d sat out, instead volunteering to clean the kitchen with vernon and jihoon. which was nice and fun and whatever, but as you sidle up to where wonwoo’s sitting on the sofa, you feel the sudden intense urge to just… cling.

that’s how you end up next to him, with his large hands in yours, you fiddling with his fingers, tracing his palm lines — comparing hand sizes and stroking his knuckles. he doesn’t even flinch, just listening to jeonghan’s story and nodding in all the right places; at some point, he even raises your joined hands to his lips and brushes a kiss over your knuckles, leaving you blushing with the slightest smirk tilting his lips.

MINGYU.

will drop everything to give you the hugs that you need and deserve (and i mean EVERYTHING)

good luck trying to get him to let go

the things i’d do to be hugged by him… those arms probably feel like the safest place in the world

it’s been one of those days — long and tiring and just wrong. which is why when mingyu hugs you in greeting as you step inside, it takes you all of two seconds to burst into tears.

“baby? are you — oh, sweetheart,” he gasps, as you start to shake into his chest. “don’t cry. c’mere. my baby, what is it? what happened?”

you can’t do anything but blubber helplessly, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest, pressing loving kisses everywhere he can reach. his arms stay around you the entire time, as he guides you to the couch, pulls you into his lap and soothes you with gentle touches and quiet murmurs. before he eventually starts cracking jokes — “i’ll buy out your company and never make you work again, if you want.” — and ordering your favourite takeout.

VERNON.

lets you do anything to him (2)

he’s so funny i feel like sometimes he’s just calling you dude but also he might just come out with the smoothest shit right when you don’t expect it

probably fiddles with your hair when he hold you

“vernon?”

“mm?” he glances up from him phone to find you standing in the doorway of the bedroom with round, pleading eyes. he knows immediately that you want something, and also knows immediately that he’ll grant you whatever it is. he always does, when you look at him like that.

you hesitate. “can i get a hug?”

as if he’d ever deny you that. he slides off the bed in one fluid motion, opening his arms and dropping his phone. “of course. come here.”

about a minute later, he attempts a pull away — you whine and tighten your arms, speaking into his shirt with a muffled plea. “just — a little longer? please?”

“as long as you want. i’ve got all day for you, baby.”

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen headcanons #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo comfort #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol comfort #mingyu fluff #mingyu comfort #mingyu x reader #vernon fluff #vernon comfort #vernon x reader

[actiniumwrites]

kiss me (not)

synopsis: how they’d react when you dodge/ wipe off their kisses for a day as a prank

characters: gaming, kujou sara, heizou, tighnari, cyno, kaveh, and lyney x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, some humor, established relationships, etc

notes: i love this prompt so much omg. i’ve read a lot of fics other people have written for different fandoms and i’m actually shocked i haven’t written it before considering i eat it up every time (especially when there’s some angst 🫠)

gaming:

the first time he sees you wipe off his kiss, something in him dies a little, especially when you don’t say anything after he asks if you’re okay

so he starts doubting himself and compensating for where he may went wrong

maybe he had bad breath? or you weren’t having a good day today?

he hates that he doesn’t know what he did wrong, and even worse, why you keep doing it throughout the day

you only stop when you see the way he genuinely starts beating himself up over it, deciding it wasn’t funny anymore and honestly never was

“it was a prank,” you nudge him softly, regret overflowing from your voice, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. i shouldn’t have kept it going for so long.”

a relieved breathe and a small smile from him follow right after. you can tell he’s still a bit stuck on the whole thing, but deep down, he’s just grateful he didn’t screw up somewhere because there’s no way in hell gaming would ever let himself lose you

“it’s okay,” he breathes out, clutching your hand a little tighter than usual, “just please, don’t do it again, okay?”

kujou sara:

to say she’s confused is an understatement

she’ll immediately backtrack to make sure she actually just saw that correctly. did you really just wipe off her kiss?

so she goes in for another one, and sure enough, you dodge her this time and send her a quick goodbye before slipping out of the house and running off to work

it legitimately ruins her whole day. she can’t even function at work because it’s all she can think about

and by the time she’s home at night, she’s already tired and just wants you but she’s also too afraid that maybe she did something to upset you

fortunately for her, you spare her of the prank knowing your girlfriend well enough to know that the second she walks through the door she had a shitty day

so you apologize and tell her it was just a prank and you didn’t mean any harm

and she wants to be so mad at you for it, but literally can’t no matter how hard she tries so instead she just gives in and gets the kiss she’s been thinking about all day

heizou:

he realizes right away what you’re doing and finds it rather amusing

so he’ll play along too, not trying to kiss you at all and even going a step further and not showing you any sort of physical attention

try to hold his hand? not happening. hugging him? not a chance

and it ends up becoming a competition, because what can you say? you’re both competitive people

goes on until the end of the day and only ends when you’re both too tired to keep it up

“you’re no fun, you know?” you poke his chest as you tiredly lean against him

he smiles down at you, “how so? i let you play your little pranks, didn’t i? i even played along.”

you just scoff and scoot away, tucking yourself into the warm blankets and ignoring his teasing

but then he’ll grab you and pull you into his chest, giving into you, “fine. next time i’ll give you the reaction you want. happy now?”

tighnari:

the opposite of heizou: he’s very unamused, and is very aware of what’s going on.

as soon as you back away from him after he tries to kiss you, his face falls into a deadpan and he crosses his arms menacingly

“i’ll have you know i don’t find pranks like these very funny,” he’ll immediately tell you off, not wanting to act so childishly when it comes to affection

tighnari cares a lot about people, whether he shows it or not, so to have you pretend to dodge it upsets him — even if it is meant to be a mere lighthearted prank

so you apologize instantly, feeling a little bad over the whole ordeal, “it’s just a prank, you know? i thought it would be funny to see how you’d react.”

definitely the kind of person to feel a little bashful and guilty for overreacting over something so silly, but also doesn’t want to admit it

so he’ll just silently kiss you and act like nothing happened, secretly hoping you’ll never try to pull something like that again

cyno:

at first, he thinks it’s kinda funny since he always plays jokes. however, i think he’s similar to tighnari in the sense that he also takes a little offense to it

like, he knows it’s a joke, but he just can’t help feeling a little hurt over it

“is something the matter?” he’ll ask while you’re both on the way to meet with friends. you shake your head no, fighting a smile

defeatedly, he leaves it at that, knowing you won’t budge. he’ll feel miserable the entire time and won’t stop thinking about how you won’t give the prank up, even in front of your friends

and when you both leave for the night, he crosses his arms and confronts you as you both walk home, “it isn’t funny.”

“what isn’t funny?”

“your prank. it isn’t funny. i don’t like the way you’re avoiding kissing me,” he says bluntly. it makes your heart sink into your stomach a bit, admittedly starting to feel a bit bad

so you apologize and work everything out, telling him you got the idea from alhaitham who was curious to see how he’d react in a situation like that — that, and he felt like pissing cyno off for a day, but you didn’t need to know that part

he’ll get frustrated, but is glad it’s all settled. he’ll also be extra affectionate throughout the next week, feeling as if he somehow lost time with you

kaveh:

gets so offended omg he will literally hate you

the first time you do it, his jaw drops to the floor and he calls you out on it immediately

“what was that?” he points an accusatory finger at you

you bite back a smile and feign innocence, “huh? what are you talking about?”

will not let you leave for the day until you drop the act and properly return his kiss

when you continue to go on with the prank, however, he’ll start to get all pouty and just ask you to kiss him

and he just looks so cute that you cup his face and give him a big fat kiss and walk out the door immediately after without a word and a big smile on your face, satisfied with his reaction

lyney:

he gets so dramatic about it it’s not even funny

will literally clutch his chest and fall to the ground in public so that you stop him

when you don’t and you let him face public humiliation (because you find it funny too), he stops himself and gets back up

follows you around like a lost puppy all day and will constantly try to sneak in a kiss while you’re caught of guard, but you never fall for it and he gets so much more frustrated each and every time

then he begs lynette and freminet to help him, except they think it’s funny too seeing how whipped he is for you

and he knows it’s a prank too, but the fact that you won’t break makes him so lovingly annoyed with you

you don’t stop until lynette genuinely intervenes, complaining about how annoying lyney had gotten throughout the day, “please end his suffering already. you know my brother is an idiot who doesn’t shut up and i’ve had enough of him today.”

you laugh it off, but ultimately agree

so you go and find him, which wasn’t that hard, and tap him on the shoulder before planting a gentle kiss to his lips, “sorry for pranking you. it was just too funny of an opportunity to pass up.”

“you’re so mean to me,” he’ll complain, but will then continue to kiss you so often that you’re now the annoyed one instead

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #gaming x reader #gaming x you #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara x you #heizou x reader #heizou x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #cyno x reader #cyno x you #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you

[jvnluvr]

blue lock boys when they are drunk ♡

when the blue lock boys come home drunk, all they want is you.

ft. sae, rin & kaiser x f!reader

author’s note: im a sucker for my favs okay? fluffiest fluff i’ve ever written i almost cried ten different times send help hsish. also thank you all for 100 followers, i love u all sm mwah. i’m working on requests, they will come soon! otherwise please enjoy <33

itoshi sae:

god, he didn’t even know how he ended up in this position. all sae could remember was losing his game, walking out of that stadium with his usual blank expression, but then his legs took him to the nearest bar. he’s so drunk, heck, he even remembers smoking a cigarette or two while he was chugging down everything. he's overcome with a lot of emotions, but then he remembers.

he wants to go home. he’s up, and he’s walking home. it’s late, its dark, yet he’s still able to somehow manage to get to the front step before he knocks on the door, holding onto it because he’ll fall if he doesn’t. that’s when you open the door and sae falls into your arms. "sae-? what happened?" you ask, trying your best to not let him fall while shutting the door.

you already knew he lost, you were obviously watching the streamed game. but when sae loses, he shuts everyone out for a day at the very least. however, it's weird to find him falling onto you, at your doorstep, and incredibly late at night. he smells like cigarettes, and that's when you understand what is going on.

"sit down, i'll get you water." you guide him to the couch, slowly trying to let go of his arm so you can lie down, but he doesn't let go of you. instead, he pulls you down with him so you're lying down on top of him. "uh, what's this about? you gonna talk to me..?" to say you're confused right now is kind of an understatement. sae hasn't spoken a word to you since he entered, just mindless grumbles and sighs until now, where it's almost like he's searching into your eyes for something.

"y'know, you're a whole lot prettier up close, right?"

what..?

your eyes probably looked bugged right now. you know he's not sober, but when people are drunk, their true feelings come out. sae's never really been an openly affectionate man, you knew that from the moment you met him. so hearing him suddenly throw a compliment into your face has you stunned to say the least.

"c'mon don't look at me like that... this is new to me too.." he mumbles, a red tint starting to appear on his cheeks. he grabs you by your waist to sit you on his lap, and you start to turn red too. "seriously, what's gotten into you sae?" you ask quietly, you both letting out a small chuckle as you stare at each other.

"i don' know.. it's your fault." you tilt your head as his one hand intertwines with yours. "you have beautiful eyes too.. you know that?" you let out a little gasp as your eyes avert away from him. you can feel your ears getting hotter and hotter as each seconds by. now you're actually worried, since when has he thought of these things?

sae put a hand on your cheek to turn you back to him. he has that soft smile plastered onto his face. your gaze softens as he continues talking to you. "you've always had.. that bright light in your eyes... even the first night we met. 't was what got me so interested in you." you bite your lip at that, small water drops forming into your eyes. it wasn't possible for your heart to not melt as those words. "the only thing.. i could think about.. was how much i liked you. how much my heart yearned for you. for how happy i am, to have you in my life now."

he wipes a tear of yours while eliciting that little soft but deep chuckle you always adored. "c'mon, don't cry, was just being honest.." he hugged you, burying his face into your neck and closing his eyes. you were almost certain that after that the alcohol consumed him, that he was too drowsy to even remember all the words he just said. but it's okay. for the chance you got to see itoshi sae confess his love in his own way. you whispered out an "i love you' before falling asleep beside him.

michael kaiser:

"babyy, i'm homee!" yeah, he was definitely slurring over each word he said. you walked out the kitchen, staring as kaiser almost fell atleast 5 times trying to walk over to you. it was hard to try and not laugh at how adorable he was being all tipsy, it was like he was a little child again.

“michael.” you giggled, trying to get him to sit on the chair but you both fell against each other on the floor. “that hurt!” his cheeks are more than just flushed and his eyes are half open. "who are ya, and where's my girlfriend?" to be honest, you were kind of hurt that he couldn't recognize you even while you were right in his face, but kaiser can be a little slow even when sober.

"c'mon michael, 'is me, your girlfriend." you retorted, wrapping your arms around him in an attempt to get him to sit down on a chair. but of course, kaiser being kaiser doesn't want to be apart from you for even a second, so he pulls you onto his lap. "i know, 'was just messin' with ya. i'm not that drunk, y'know?" you could only blankly stare at him as he confessed to that. even the dumbest person alive could tell that lie straight through his teeth.

"you are seriously not gonna tell me you aren't THAT drunk. you slipped over the fuckin' air." you both looked at each other, slightly grinning at that. silence. ah there it is, you both burst out laughing not even a second after, because you know it was true. "honestly though, you REEK of alcohol, go shower or somethin'." you tried getting off his lap, you really did. but does he care? of course not.

"no, 'm gonna stay here, too tired to shower..." you let out a small sigh at that, but if he wasn't going to get into the shower, you weren't going to let him doze off in his uncomfy chair. both of your backs couldn't take that kind of pain right now. "okay okay, we're both tired, let's go to bed, hm?" kaiser quietly grumbled as a counter, not wanting to let you go. at that point, your sounds started to sound more grumpy. you should have dragged him to bed when you had the chance.

"hiii babyy, i love you." kaiser suddenly said, with a smile hanging ear to ear. you didn't know what he was up to, but you just quietly ignored his statement of affection. "you're really cute when you're grumpy," he added, followed by a bunch of little mischievous giggles. "but you're cute all the time, so it makes it absolutelyyy irresistible to stay mad at you." you're so embarrassed by kaiser's sudden overload of compliments that, you start to playfully hit him? one hit to the arm, one hit to the head, and you continue in order to stop being so flustered by the drunk man in front of you.

"ow! i literally said you're cute, why are you hitting me- stop! ow!" even if you were hitting him, kaiser couldn't help but let out more laughs when he realized why you were hitting him. "aww, you're embarrased, aren't ya?" he pressed you for a kiss, but you just put your hand over his mouth to push him back. you couldn't take being more abashed over your extraordinarily drunk boyfriend.

"if you're not gonna accept my love, let me properly confess it, alrightt?" again, you were too afraid to even blurt out a single world in fear of stuttering and having kaiser coo into your ear about how cute you were. so you just looked at him, waiting for him to continue his speech. "got your attention, pretty? i've had a crush on you since the first time i met you, like the biggest crush ever, like the moment i saw you i swear those hearts appeared in my eyes like they do in cartoon shows." he was stuttering as the alcohol was still rushing in his system, but kaiser sounded like a little boy who had been lovestruck with the mere thought of you.

"you're so stupid sometimes.." you mumbled, but nonetheless giddy with happiness and love. "maybe, but i'm stupidly in love with you." all you could do was let out a sheepish smile before pulling him into a hug. "i love you.." and that was followed with snores. you didn't really plan on how to move kaiser out of this awkward position, but what you did know that he was a pretty cute lovestruck man when he was drunk.

itoshi rin:

rin isn't one to typically get drunk, he's not even one to have maybe more than three shots of alcohol at most. but tonight, he went completely overboard. maybe the drinks just tasted good, maybe he had lost his mind. not the matter of how he got drunk, but he was stumbling into your shared apartment when you just barely saw you peeking through your bedroom door through his blurry eyes.

"rin, are you okay..?" you murmured, slowing walking towards him. "mm, 'm fine, were you sleeping?" even if he was on the verge of passing out, rin was one of those guys who was able to maintain his composure. he didn't like how he felt, so he stride towards the kitchen, aching for a glass of water. "was waiting for you, did you drink, rin?" he turned around to see you standing there waiting for him.

"mhm, sorry, don't know what got over me. wait in the room for me, i'll be in there soon." he replied, turning back around to put his glass in the sink, but when he shifted back, he could still see you waiting his in peripheral vision. "what are you waiting for, [name]?" rin asked, still feeling the horrible effects of the alcohol continuing to flow through his blood stream. "i told you, 'm waiting for you." you knew that if you went back, he would fall asleep on the nearby couch, heck even fall and just pass out on the floor, he was drunk out of his mind.

"alright, c'mon let's go." he slowly trailed behind you, the cold air hitting him in the face when he realized he feels way too hot. rin slowly discards his jacket and his shirt, moving to lie down with you. but the one thing he couldn't help but notice is that you didn't make direct eye contact with him, your eyes are averted in every direction except his, why is that? maybe the reason he hated alcohol so much is because of what it does to him. he wants your attention, he craves for your touch, it's weird to him.

so rin extends his arm towards you, he has a hold on your waist before you're too close to him. "what's wrong..?" he examines you, how you're still not looking into his eyes. "look at me, why aren't you looking at me honey?" he's surprised that it does the trick, because your eyes are finally in his direct field of view, and his heart melts. "nothin', just thought you might have wanted to sleep, so didn't wanna' bother you." you answered shyly, realizing now that he wanted nothing more than you. it's silent for a bit, just the both of you in each other's embrace, lying down in the dark.

"mm, you don't bother me, you know that?" he starts, rin doesn't realize that all of sudden he's rambling to you. "i say you shouldn't be nervous but the truth is.. i'm always a bit nervous around you. we've been together for a while but.. i don't know.. i just.. always want to know more about you. it drives me insane sometimes, 'cause i don't usually care about people like that. but for you i just-" he's pulling you closer into your chest, noticing how your grip tightens on him as he continues speaking. "i just want to know every tiny detail about you. i notice the small things about you. the way your smile goes slightly down, you touch the tip of your eyes when your embarrassed, and you always touch the same spot-" he intertwines his hands with yours, rubbing over the spot he's just about to mention. "you always touch the same spot of your hand when you're focused. i pay attention to those things because i care about you, i hope you knew that."

"rin.." you whisper, it's all you could physically verbalize. but all you could feel were the hot tears you were spilling onto his chest. you felt guilty, quickly trying to wipe them away, but he looked down to hush your sobs. "'m sorry, didn't wanna make you cry. i meant it though, even if i don't say it much." it's undeniable that you just want to be even closer to him than humanely possible, you wouldn't dare think of even letting him go for a second after that. "i think you should get drunk more often," which dragged a small string of chuckles from you two. "being drunk sucks, but we can compromise and i'll try and tell you how much i love and want to be with you more, yea?" rin shared, fumbling over his words. yep, still definitely drunk.

"mhm, go to sleep now, 'kay?" you acknowledged, content with how tonight turned out to be. "you go to sleep too, i love you." and rin let himself pass out in the comfort of your presence. not only until a few moments later could you say 'i love you' back, but he was secretly waiting to fall asleep until he heard confirmation of your feelings.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock imagines #blue lock itoshi sae #blue lock michael kaiser #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #bllk kaiser #bllk michael kaiser #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk x female reader #bllk itoshi sae #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #michael kaiser x you #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #bllk rin #bllk itoshi rin #kaiser x reader #rin x reader #bllk sae

[reverie-starlight]

I miss knb and I wanted to write something for aomine :’) I’ve never written for him and it’s been a while since I’ve watched the show, so forgive me if you feel that his characterization is a bit off. hello from late january cause that’s when I’m queuing this 👋🏻

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. lots and lots and lots of fluffy pet names bc that’s the focus of the drabble. he calls you shnookums once just to annoy you bc he’s a little shit. that’s a warning in itself tbh. mentions of alcohol/drunk character. characters written as adults, not high schoolers.

aomine has specific nicknames for you depending on the situation you find yourselves in.

he reserves “babe” or some shortened variation of your name for when you’re in public.

it’s quick, it’s casual, and it doesn’t get him a lecture on why it’s not funny to very loudly address you as “shnookums” when you get separated at the grocery store.

(though in his defence, he thought it worked wonders. you were back at his side within seconds after straying too far on accident with a half embarrassed, half pissed off look on your face. he thought it was hilarious.)

~~~

he calls you “baby” when he greets you after a long day at work. when he’s picking you up from your classes. normally only in your presence, because he doesn’t need the teasing remarks about how soft he’s become from his teammates.

not that he really cares at the end of the day- he’ll call you what he wants to call you (provided you also like it, of course) but there’s something less casual about it that makes him want to keep it just for you.

that “something” being the time you got drunk and offhandedly mentioned loving the way it sounds in his voice. he now gets to enjoy the small, barely noticeable uptick of your lips whenever he opts for it. no one else gets to see that.

he’ll help you with your coat and press a kiss to your hairline, murmuring a soft “hey baby, missed you today”.

it’s probably the most common of the names he uses on you out of all the available options.

~~~

he saves the saccharine pet names for when he knows you’re not feeling your best. whether you’re mentally drained, physically exhausted or sick to any degree, there’s never not a time when hearing him be sickeningly sweet with you doesn’t ease the pain.

“need anything else, sweetheart?”

“how are you feeling, gorgeous?”

“yeah, we can cuddle, doll, c’mere.”

these are also the times he plays up the compliments (more than usual).

“even when you’re sick, you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. don’t let it get to your head, though. or do- I know how to deal with that just fine, too.”

~~~

he doesn’t have one set nickname for you when you visit him at practice, but when you watch him play in an official game?

as long as you’ve known him, he’s never believed in luck- he got himself to where he is with his skills, luck had nothing to do with it.

so it surprises you the first time he refers to you as his good luck charm. it’s not said in some grand gesture, not brought up in those fluff promotional interviews when reporters ask him if he has one.

it’s whispered quietly into your ear before he jogs onto the court.

a murmured thank you against your lips as soon as he’s running off again, high on a win, straight to you.

you ask him about it one day and he just shrugs. “everything is different now. I play better when I know you’re watching, it’s energizing in a way I’ve never felt before. you’re right, I still don’t believe in luck, but somehow I was able to find you. and I don’t know if I would call that luck, either, but until I find a better way to explain it you’re just gonna have to put up with that title a bit longer.”

so you do, without complaints, because it’s cute trying to watch him convey his feelings honestly and still in a very aomine way.

~~~

your absolute favourite nickname that he’s given you, though? angel.

you’re his angel.

the title is first appointed when you pick him up one night from a bar after celebrating with his team. his usually brooding expression visibly lights up when he sees you and he makes his way over. it’s been a while since he’s been this drunk, so it makes you laugh when he stumbles over and throws an arm around your shoulders.

“what a sweetheart, you really came to pick me up?”

you scoff and try to get him into the car, waving at his teammates who were staying with him until you got there. “what, baby, you thought I wouldn’t?”

he shrugs with an absentminded grin. “it’s just nice to have a… battle angel or whatever that term is. I dunno what it is.”

you can’t help but laugh. “you mean a guardian angel?”

“same thing, you knew what I meant!” his words are slurred and he’s now leaning his entire body weight against you.

“oh you are so wasted, daiki, let’s get you home.”

and it’s whispered again at home as he’s falling asleep, “my angel… thank you for taking care of me tonight.”

your heart squeezes.

now it’s reserved for only the most intimate of moments with him- he doesn’t want to overuse the name and risk it losing its meaning.

because it does hold a deeper, unspoken meaning between the two of you.

after a long time apart because of his away games? after he wins an important match? loses a match and he’s thankful you’re there with him? you get a promotion at work? you pass a difficult class with flying colours? all situations where he’d call you angel.

he has a full arsenal of names for you, clearly, and you love every single one of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this feels a bit messy. even after editing, I feel like the quality went down a bit, so we’ll see if I end up posting it. but I love him a lot and I’ve been rewatching knb, so I needed to do something for him to keep the brainrot at bay.

tagging: @dira333

#aomine x reader #aomine daiki x reader #aomine x reader fluff #daiki aomine x reader #aomine fluff #knb x reader #knb x reader fluff

[selfcarecap]

Never Have I Ever [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: When Peter meets you at college and you two bond over your lack of sexual experience, you quickly become the best friend he’s ever had. But while he falls madly in love with you, he doesn’t know if you feel the same. You hold his hand when you’re out together, talk to him about the vibrator you want to buy and bless him with that beautiful look in your eyes that is reserved only for him… yet he’s not sure if you see more than a friend in him. Little does he know, you’re wondering the same about him, hoping for the same outcome.

Warnings: smut (all first time, oral f + m receiving, dry humping (semi-public? but it’s completely uninterrupted and unseen and in a remote location lol), masturbation (f with a sex toy and m with the reader’s underwear), vaginal sex – the second half of this is basically all smut), a sprinkle of jealous Peter, Professor Garfield lol, a little bit of angst ig bc Peter keeps doubting himself and thinks he’s a pervert but he’s just dumb as shit and oblivious, (all Peter’s pov <3), fic starts off with an awkward and embarrassing story lol, alcohol/drunk!Peter, (btw if first year of college sounds a little young to you you can always imagine they just took a break between hs and college), idk how college works in the usa, also I mention Peter's enhanced senses but it's not a Spiderman fic at all lol

Word Count: 23k omg, the longest thing I’ve ever written (if that’s too long for you i’ve put four ‘dividers’ in total so it’s split into 4 more or less equally long parts (the first is like 4k, second is 7k, then 4k again and the last is 8k) but of course you can ignore that and just read all of it in one go, all 23k are in this post, it’s a one shot)

It's finally here! Thank you for all the love I received for the teaser and just talking about this fic already 💘 This has been on my mind for so so long and I’ve been (sporadically and inconsistently) writing it since like September. I’m so glad it’s finally finished, this was one of my favourite wips I‘ve ever worked on, I really loved writing Peter and the reader and their dynamic and experiences and I hope you love reading it just as much 💖

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

It’s Peter’s first week of college and so far he barely knows anyone. The guys in the rooms next to Peter’s are cool, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to know a few more people, so he decides to go to this party he’s been hearing about all week.

The party is exactly how he imagined it; loud music, drinking games, a pretty girl sitting next to him. So pretty that he doesn’t dare look at you for too long because he’s worried you’ll catch him staring and think he’s being weird.

The game you’re all playing started as a simple never have I ever, but somehow people are now telling their funniest sex stories. Peter doesn’t realise it’s part of the game that everyone tells a sex story until it’s your turn and he notices how the last few people all told a story, one after the other, going around the circle you’re all sitting in.

His heart starts thumping harder in his chest. He doesn’t have a sex story to tell. But if he gets up now it will be obvious that he’s avoiding his turn, right? 

Fuck.

Besides, he wants to listen to your story. He just has to hope that his usually clever brain will help him come up with something when it’s his turn.

“Most memorable sex experience…” you hum in thought as you lightly drum the bottle in your hands against your lips. “Oh wait, this one’s funny. The guy I was with asked me if I peed myself when he took off my underwear because he didn‘t know that women get wet when they‘re turned on. I explained it to him but he wouldn’t believe me. 

“He was sweet about it and told me it happens to the best of us — and that he sometimes pees himself too. So at that point, I just saw it as a second chance from the universe to show me what this guy was like and I left.” 

The students around you laugh and comment on the story and as you look over at Peter a few seconds later he realises the other people are doing the same. 

They‘re expecting him to tell a sex story now. His mouth goes dry and his brain is empty. Think. Think. Think. Think of something. Anything. 

But he has nothing.

You speak up again, pointing at the guy next to Peter, “Oh my god, Brandon, you remember that story you told me earlier? You need to tell that one, that was the funniest thing I‘ve ever heard.”

A weight is lifted off of Peter‘s shoulders when the attention simply shifts to the guy next to him.

What felt like overthinking for hours when he couldn‘t come up with anything to say was probably only a short moment, less than five seconds, and not a single person noticed that they skipped over Peter. He lets out a breath of relief as other people tell stories and no one demands anything from Peter. 

He keeps glancing at you, trying to figure out if what you did was deliberate or not. 

The only thing he‘s gotten from you so far is a second of eye contact, your face neutral but your eyes holding something positive. The next time you stand up to refill your drink, Peter follows you into the kitchen.

You smile at him when you see him enter, offering some of the diet coke you‘re pouring into your cup to him. “No thanks,” Peter says, watching you fill the rest of your drink with rum. 

“I don‘t know if you did that on purpose or not but uh.. thanks,” he says, clearing his throat after, annoyed at himself for sounding so nervous. You’re gorgeous, but he doesn’t even know you yet. You’re a stranger, yet he finds himself caring about what you think of him.

You muster him for a few seconds before you realise what he’s talking about.

“Oh. You mean during the.. the sex stories? That was no big deal. You just looked a little uncomfortable so I tried my best to get the attention to shift to someone else,” you smile.

“Thanks, that... that was really kind. Although I was kind of hoping it wasn‘t obvious how nervous I was. I just don‘t have any special or funny sex stories to tell... or any sex stories at all,” he avoids eye contact when he says it but you immediately get what he means. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You say, taking a step forward to stand closer to him, his cheeks heating up. He nods.

“The story I told? That was completely made up. I‘ve never had sex with anyone either. And I‘m not ashamed of that fact, I mean I‘m so young and there‘s nothing wrong with waiting or honestly I‘ve just never... been in that type of situation with a boy…”

“I get it. You don‘t have to explain yourself. Same boat,” he smiles and nudges your shoulder but regrets it instantly.

Nudging your shoulder? He has never nudged anyone‘s shoulder. Especially not the shoulder of a pretty girl he just met. 

You don‘t take any notice of it though, much to Peter‘s relief, and you continue. 

“Even if I personally don‘t care how old anyone is when they have their first time, I just felt nervous saying it in a room full of frat boys. I know this year has barely started but so far all the frat boys I’ve met live up to their reputation and I didn‘t want them making any stupid comments. 

“If I was my ideal, confident self - or just a little tipsier - I probably would have just said that I don’t have any sex stories to tell but... I don‘t know. I was nervous.”

“I get that. That‘s exactly how I felt too. Only I wasn‘t creative enough to think of a story. My mind just blanked, I must have looked crazy when it was my turn to say something. You were calm though, the story seemed as real as all the others... maybe even more real, I mean what you said sounds very realistic to me considering how little most men know about women’s bodies.” 

“Yeah,” you giggle, “But you didn‘t look nervous either. It‘s just that I knew I might not be the only one too nervous to admit that I don‘t have any experience so I was hyper-aware of it, I guess.”

“Okay, I‘m glad. Thanks again.” The conversation is slowly dying but he doesn’t want it to end yet.

He holds his hand in front of him, “I’m Peter by the way. Biochemistry and computer science.”

His fingers tremble for a second. Who introduces himself like that? God, he’s messing this up before it even started.

But you grin, trying not to laugh and tell him your name and introduce yourself in the same way, “Oceanography and computer science.”

He takes a second to release the breath that he was holding in, “Oceanography? Wow, that sounds really interesting. You‘ll have to tell me more about that.” 

“It is. And I will once college starts. I‘m really excited.” 

“Me too. And computer science? That means we‘ll probably have a few classes together right?”

“Probably. Do you have your schedule yet?”

He takes out his phone and shows you the picture he took of it, and you lean in to look at it so closely that he can smell your lovely perfume.

“I don‘t have it on my phone but I recognise that professor’s name,” you point at a name on the screen, “I‘m in that class too, I heard professor Garfield is really good. I have two classes with him.”

And that‘s how you two end up talking all night. Peter walks you home and you realise your dorm rooms are merely minutes away from each other and you make a vow to meet each other again. He really hopes you don’t forget about him, or that you weren’t just being nice.

Peter falls asleep with a smile on his face and you on his mind. 

*

The next day, he realises with disappointment that you didn’t exchange numbers. He would like to text you and meet you in front of the lecture hall so it would be less nerve-wracking to go to his first-ever college lecture.

It would help to have someone he already knows with him and in case you were nervous he’d love to be there to calm you down too; make you feel less alone–you can do this together.

He knows one of his first classes on Tuesday is one that he shares with you. But he hopes he can see you on Monday to be each other’s support, or at least to see you for five minutes between classes.

He looks for you all day, but doesn’t see you again.

He’s giddy all night, knowing he’s definitely going to see you tomorrow. His plan is to get up extra early and casually and totally coincidentally lounge around in the hallway that your room is in, and then you can go to class together.

But one missed alarm later he‘s running through the building, trying to find the lecture hall that was shown to him during freshers week, but he didn’t quite manage to remember each one of the hundreds of rooms.

Time is running out and he has one minute until the lecture starts. He runs around the next corner and finally finds the hall he’s supposed to be in.

There are hundreds of students though, and he seems to be one of the last; he can’t even see if there are any seats left.

While his eyes scan the rows for an empty seat–but more importantly for you–he sees some movement directed at him. A wave.

His eyes travel down the arm that's waving at him and soon he’s making eye contact with you. He’s only met you once but he can’t stop a huge smile from taking over his entire face.

Peter blushes while he’s walking up the steps, on his way to you, but once he’s close he can see your bright smile and he’s immediately reminded of why he likes you so much.

“Hi,” Peter plops down next to you on the first seat of the row. You lean in and Peter’s breath gets caught in his throat when he realises you’re hugging him–just a friendly side hug, but it’s a hug nevertheless.

He takes his water out of his bag, trying to calm himself down by focussing on the cool drink running down his throat. It does clear his mind, the water, but he’s more and more comfortable with every second that he sits next to you. Your aura is so kind and calming, and he finds his shoulders losing the tension as you start talking to him.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it or something. We forgot to exchange numbers so I found your Instagram and was gonna message you there. But you‘re private so I couldn‘t.”

Ever since you said goodbye the night after the party, Peter has been worrying that that was all. That it was just an in-the-moment type of thing and you wouldn’t think it was anything special – or worse, you’d forget about him. But now you’re here, keeping a spot for him, telling him you’ve been thinking about him and wanted to message him. The warmth in his chest spreads when you smile at him.

And sure, just because you remember him doesn’t mean you’re best friends, but it confirms that Peter isn’t the only one who thought you had a connection that was worth remembering.

Peter most definitely also stalked your Instagram. It’s public but he didn’t want you thinking he was weird for spam-liking all your pictures–which he definitely wanted to do but he stopped himself in time. 

He put a timer on Instagram for the app to remind him when it’s been twenty minutes of looking at your pictures. Not that there were enough to be scrolling for twenty minutes straight – he simply enjoyed looking at you.

He takes his phone out and accepts the follow request you sent him and follows you back.

“Put your number in,” you place your phone in front of him, opened on a new contact card that Peter fills out with his number and name. You look at it and add a <3 behind his name and Peter prays he’s not blushing as hard as it feels.

You text him You up? and if his cheeks weren’t red before then they definitely are now. He can tell you’re just teasing but the fact that you’re already comfortable enough to joke around with him makes him grin.

He feels like he can be himself with you and you’re doing the same. You’re not holding back with showing Peter that you like him and it makes him feel good about himself. 

But his smile fades when he hears your next words

“The professor is so hot, I have no idea how I‘ll concentrate. I talked to him before I sat down and he has a really nice voice too. And that accent… But wait till he turns around and you see his face – or you could just stare at his ass.” 

Peter doesn’t know why it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart. And when he sees you further staring at the man, it’s like that knife is being pulled out of his chest and Peter bleeds out. 

“I-it’s not even that big,” Peter tries.

You look at him and now he feels stupid for having said that. 

“Butts don‘t have to be big to be hot. Little booties matter. And they’re really cute sometimes.”

“W-well yes, of course, but.. he‘s really not that hot,” Peter says, and then Professor Garfield turns around, “...okay he is that hot.”

“Told you,” you sing, a smile on your face, and he can’t be mad at you when you’re looking at him like that. He couldn’t be mad at you no matter what you did. While Professor Garfield, or Andrew–as he tells you all to call him–starts the lecture, Peter tries to figure out what’s got him so mad.

Yes, of course you’re pretty. You’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean that he has to have a crush on you immediately. Just because you’re a girl and he’s a guy doesn’t mean that this has to go beyond a friendship. Men and women can be just friends. He can’t just fall in love with the first pretty woman who’s nice to him.

Okay, maybe he already has a crush on you. So what? Who can blame him?

But Peter doesn’t want to rush anything with you. He’ll give you the time to figure out what you feel for him, and he’ll just follow your lead. He may think you already like him as much as he likes you, but it’s still only the second time you’re ever seeing each other. 

That and he just doesn’t want to overthink it all and end up losing the first person at college who genuinely feels like someone he could be friends with.

He tries to ignore how you giggle at every joke the professor makes and tries to focus on the warmth of you next to him instead. Not too much though, he’s already let your teasing get to his head and maybe even to a body part further down.

Even if it means he won’t have to witness you laughing at Professor Garfield’s jokes anymore, Peter is sad when the lecture is over. It’s the only lecture he has today and therefore also the only one he has with you today.

As you pack your things and people swarm out of the lecture hall, you and Peter stay back, taking it slow.

“What’s your next class?” You ask, looking him right in the eyes–like any normal person–but he’ll really have to get used to that. He can’t lose his mind every time you just look at him. But he's so attracted to you.

“I, um, I no. I mean, I don’t have any other classes today.”

You smile unexpectedly, “Cool, me neither. You wanna do something? We could get lunch together.”

You say it with such ease, showing your interest in him like you don’t know how it’s making Peter feel warm and bubbly inside.

Even if Peter still gets nervous around you, simply because he wants to impress you and doesn’t want to fuck this up, he realises quickly that he has no reason to be. 

Your friendship blooms effortlessly and quickly. 

A week later you’re texting like you’ve been best friends for years and he finds himself too happy around you to worry about what he’s saying or how he’s acting. You like him the way he is and he can feel it deeply and confidently. 

Yes, he still stutters a lot around you - but he does that around most people, to be fair - and once you part ways for the day he overanalyses every little thing you’ve said to him, overthinks every little touch of yours for some form of affection that is more than platonic.

And it’s hard, figuring out whether you like him as more than a friend.

But this friendship is so new and so exciting that Peter thinks it makes him just as happy as an average relationship in the honeymoon phase would. So even if he does crave more intimacy with you, it’s hard to complain when he has a friend like you.

*

You show up at Peter’s door at midnight on a Friday. His sleep schedule has been surprisingly healthy for a college freshman so if anyone else disturbed him when he was already in pyjamas, he’d be annoyed.

But with you, he’s ecstatic. He’s awake immediately, grinning from ear to ear at your surprise visit. You never left his mind but he thought he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you again.

Peter is more than aware of the contrast between your done up state and him in his ratty old pyjamas. You’ve seen him in pyjamas before and he knows better than to think you’d judge him, but he can’t help but to want to at least try and match you when you’re looking as gorgeous as you are.

“Oh sorry, I thought you’d still be up,” is the first thing you say, ready to leave if you’re bothering him in any way.

“No, no, I am, don’t worry. What’s up?” Peter asks, trying to look cool as he leans against his door frame. He ignores how it hurts like hell where his elbow meets a sharp corner.

“Well… I was gonna ask if you wanna go watch a movie with me,” you give him a charming smile not knowing he’d say yes no matter what you asked of him.

“Now?”

“Uh, yes. Now. But it’s fine if not, genuinely I won’t be mad. I can see that you had other plans,” you smile at his pyjamas.

“No. Don’t worry, I’d love to go. Do you have tickets or…?” Jealousy bubbles up inside Peter when he realises you might have been planning to go with someone else. With some other guy. Maybe he bailed on you and Peter is the second option (which he would still be grateful for, but he hates the thought of you with another guy).

“No, but I checked online and they have plenty of tickets left. It’s the last day they’re playing this film. The one I told you about, the horror one.”

“Oh God.” He’s trying to pretend that you still need to convince him when really Peter just needs a second to realise he was just overthinking again. He is your first choice. Not another guy.

“Pleeeease, Peter,” you grab his arm and pout. 

Peter has been convinced since the moment you showed up at his door.

“Give me a second,” he smiles and you grin back, “Really? You’re the best,” you kiss his cheek enthusiastically and he goes back into his room fast enough to hide his blush.

He picks out an outfit, brushes his teeth and puts on deodorant just in case.

You take him to the cinema with your hand in his. Peter knows it’s not a romantic gesture, you’re just treating him like you’d treat a female friend, but his brain doesn’t know the difference. He’s just happy to be touching you.

When you buy the tickets the guy at the movie theatre shows you the available seats on his screen. He points to one of those love seats where two seats are joined together so you can cuddle.

You nod and when the guy gives Peter a congratulatory smile, Peter’s cheeks heat up. The guy probably thinks you and Peter are a couple. It’s not just good for Peter’s ego and the fake scenarios with you that he’ll imagine before bed, but it’s also better for the guy. Peter saw the way he was eyeing you, and Peter doesn’t know what he would have done if the guy had asked for your number.

“We can cuddle,” you grin as you sit down and pat the seat next to you. You’re almost alone in the theatre, you could sit anywhere you want but you want to be close to him.

While you wait for the trailers to start you take Snapchat videos with Peter, asking him if you can send them to your friends at home. His heart swells when you say that you’ve told them about him.

He takes pictures of you looking all pretty and perfect and he wonders if it would be too much to set it as his phone wallpaper. Your head is on his shoulder as you scroll through the pictures that he just took of you and your perfume is hypnotising.

How is every little thing about you so captivating? Peter has never met anyone like you.

He’s fucking scared during the movie, but with his eyes mostly closed he manages to be the guy you can hold on to during the creepy scenes. Your fingers around his bicep squeeze every time there is a jumpscare and at some point he has to force himself to watch the film after all if he doesn’t want to get hard from your touch. He knows it’s pathetic, but he can’t help it.

You look beautiful in the light of the stars as you two walk home, your hand still around his arm, gushing about the film and thanking him for watching it with you despite the spontaneous change of his plans.

You spend some time in the common area by your dorms. It’s late and everyone else seems to be at some party elsewhere or sleeping. You cling on to Peter, still jumpy from the horror film and he nearly asks you if you want to sleep in his bed.

He nearly says it about five times, but he can’t quite get the words out. He doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression, even if you may be about to ask the same thing.

Peter sits there nervously, gulping as he’s about to ask. He really will say it this time. But before he opens his mouth he hears your deep breaths and notices how your body has gone slack against his side.

He kisses the top of your head in content and soon, sleep finds Peter too. He doesn’t have to dream about being close to you because it’s already his reality.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

It’s a few weeks into the semester and it’s become a routine for you two to study together. Whether you’re helping each other with the classes you share, or silently working on other things and enjoying each other’s company, your study sessions have even managed to make studying a rather fun part of college. 

Especially when you’re both sitting on Peter’s bed, and your knees or legs or arms are always touching.

You’re not focussed today, scrolling around on your phone instead of studying. You throw your phone to the bed at some point and you hug your legs to your chest in thought.

“You think Andrew will let me suck his dick? For a better score?”

Peter’s heart stops beating for a second. 

You haven’t kissed, you haven’t said anything that should have led Peter to think that this is more than friendship, but it seemed like there could be something in the future. Apparently, you’re not even considering it.

“Who’s Andrew?” He asks, mouth dry and voice weak.

“Professor Garfield.”

“Oh. Well, I-I think that‘s illegal.”

“Is it though?” You tilt your head and give him a deliberately incredulous look.

“Yes.”

“Not if no one finds out. It’s don’t break the rules or don‘t get caught, Peter.”

He’s distracted by you saying his name for a moment. There’s nothing he loves hearing more.

But he has to stop you from doing… that. He can’t entirely tell how serious you are, but he has to make sure to convince you that it’s a bad idea.

“No offence, but what makes you believe you’ll be good enough for him to give you a better score? If you’ve never… you know, done anything like it.” He remembers your conversation from the first time you met, and if you haven’t given anyone a blowjob since then, he knows it would be your first time. Your first time can’t be with a professor, even if Peter disregards the fact that he wants to be the only guy you have sex with, it really is a bad idea.

“I’m a young and pretty student and he’s a kinda old guy. He’s like 40. So I’m sure that I’ll be enough for him.”

Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment, thrown off by your casual tone.

“Don’t you think so?” you press, teasing in your voice.

“No- of course you’re pretty. You’re beautiful,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 

“Aww,” you sit up and press a kiss to his cheek, “So are you, Pete.” You hold on to his shoulder as you lower yourself into his lap, your butt right next to his thighs and your upper body resting on his legs, and his breath hitches. 

“Well if you think I need practice, then.. I could practise on you first.”

“Practise w-what on me?” He asks, feeling your hands on his abs.

“Going down on a guy,” you say, looking up at him. Now the feeling in Peter’s belly changes from raging jealousy into something else of equal passion. He’s thought about you doing that before, (and pushed the thought out of his mind as quickly as it appeared) but hearing you suggest it makes a new flame of desire light up in him. 

The first conversation you ever had was about sex. But anytime you mention anything sexual, Peter doesn’t know how to act.

“I- I mean. I’m not- I feel like, maybe that’s not—”

“Don’t worry, I’m joking. I won’t actually suck that guy’s dick. I just don’t wanna do this stuff right now,” you sigh, sitting up and closing your textbook.

“How about we do something to distract you for the night, and then tomorrow I’ll help you with the next assignment,” he suggests, relief still flooding through his body, happy that you don’t actually want to suck your professor’s dick.

“You’d do that?” 

“Of course. I’ll always help you when I can but I especially owe you after you did my homework last week when I fell asleep.”

You sit up, “I told you it was no big deal. It was just multiple choice and all I did was copy my answers.”

“Yeah but if I hadn’t woken up then I would have missed the deadline and failed.”

“I know you’d do the same for me. And besides, you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t wake you up to do some boring computational linguistics quiz at eleven pm.”

Peter smiles at the memory of last week. When he’s with you, he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to spend time with you. But he was tired and you were studying something Peter couldn’t help you with anyway, and he’s so comfortable around you that he just drifted off to sleep because he trusts you – he wouldn’t be okay with being unconscious next to just anyone.

“Well, it was still a very kind thing to do.”

Not sure what you’re doing yet, you go to your dorm room so you can change out of your sweats and into something prettier–even though Peter thinks you could wear sweatpants 24/7, and you’d still outshine everyone. He nearly stays outside but with a confused look you ask him what he’s doing outside and he reluctantly comes in.

Picking out an outfit, you pull off your shirt with no warning and even if he can only see your back an “Oh my God” leaves Peter’s mouth immediately, followed by a quiet, “Sorry,” as he turns around.

“Don’t worry. I’m just changing. It’s just my body, you can look.”

Despite your nonchalant words, Peter can hear your heart beating loudly and frantically in your chest. He tries not to let it get to him, it doesn’t have to mean that you like him. Maybe you’re just realising that you don’t want a boy to see you half-naked after all but you don’t want to say it now after confidently assuring him it was okay. 

Peter sits down on your bed, turned away from you even though it takes all the willpower he can muster.

A few moments later you jump onto the bed next to him, “So, what are we doing tonight?”

“Do?” He asks, still dazed from seeing your naked back, “Oh do, yeah. Uh yes, we can do something.” 

You giggle, looking at him expectantly. That’s when Peter remembers he was the one who suggested that you go out tonight.

“Oh-well yeah, I was thinking we could take a walk along the river, I heard they have these carnival booths up every Friday night.”

Going out in the evenings has become your and Peter’s thing. Sure, many people–especially college students–go out in the evening. But with you, it feels different. It feels special.

Illuminated by the streetlights and the LED glow from the booths, you and Peter play a few rounds of ring toss and throwing darts at balloons. You both swear it’s rigged because neither of you win anything.

You eat popcorn while Peter gets cotton candy and once again you hold Peter’s hand throughout most of your trip. It’s become a habit of yours, apparently meaningless as a romantic gesture, but platonically it means everything to Peter. You like him enough to constantly initiate physical touch; plus, he’s never seen you hold hands with any of your other friends.

Still, Peter is forever wishing for more. Sometimes he looks at you and wonders how he’s managed not to kiss you yet. But his fear grows with every day; the closer you get the harder it will be to confess his feelings because the risk of ruining something beautiful keeps getting bigger. 

He’s never been this attracted to anyone but he also thinks he’s never had a friendship as good as yours. He simply can’t risk something good, something beautiful, something that makes him as happy as he’s ever been. Your friendship is strong but he’s scared you wouldn’t be able to come back from Peter confessing his feelings for you and you not feeling the same.

It could weird you out, you could take pity on Peter and see him in a different light, or worst of all, you could think he’s been taking advantage of you. He’s never touched you anywhere that would be reserved only for a lover but you two are quite close. You’ve cuddled a few times, or just a few hours ago you were changing in front of him – he doesn’t want you thinking he intentionally got any sexual gratification out of it and for you to view him differently.

He already feels bad enough when nothing but the image of you clouds his thoughts whenever he jerks off. He can’t help it anymore. He used to be able to think of something else or simply watch porn but now that he’s with you so often and you’re so perfect, you’re like an intrusive thought; whenever he’s naked, there’s nothing on his mind but you, just like when a song is stuck in your head – there’s no easy way of getting rid of it.

Peter has never been one to feel shame after masturbating. But if you only liked him as a friend and ever found out what he thinks about when he’s fucking his fist late at night, he doesn’t even want to know what your opinion of him would change into. But the mental image of you alone makes Peter cum so hard, over and over, that he can’t stop, even if guilt plagues him right after as he cleans up the mess he’s made.

He looks down at your intertwined hands while you’re walking home across campus. He wonders what you’d do if you knew that the hand you’re holding right now jerks Peter off every night without fail, thinking precisely of how your hand could replace Peter’s.

On your way home, you walk past a frat house, the vibration of the music reaching Peter’s chest even from the outside.

“Shit, Chloe told me about this party. I forgot I said I’d be there.”

“Who’s that?”

“She’s one of my friends from an Oceanography class. Do you mind if we go in? Just for half an hour.”

It’ll definitely distract Peter from thinking about you in a way that he’s not sure you’d be comfortable with.

You’re dragged away by some of your girlfriends as soon as you enter. They all say something about Peter but you quickly shrug off what they’re saying about you two always being together. He can’t tell if it’s a genuine no or just that feeling of embarrassment that you get when your friends tease you about your crush.

So your friends see it too? The indescribable chemistry between you two? Even with his enhanced hearing, he can’t hear the rest of your conversation because some of his own friends are urging him to go play beer pong with them.

Peter sees you every twenty minutes or so and you wave or smile at him and check up on him every time you walk past. Spending time with your other friends is good for both of you, but it’s also good to know that he’s still on your mind, just like you’re on his.

“Help me find the bathroom,” you tell Peter the next time you see him. He’s getting a little bored at this party so he assumes you also want to escape.

You walk into the bathroom together and Peter doesn’t realise that you actually just need to pee until he sees you contemplating on pulling your underwear down or not, “Can you wait outside?”

“Of course.”

Peter has no interest in being in the bathroom with you while you pee, but the fact that you nearly let him stay in there with you shows him once again how comfortable you are around him. He’s smiling like an idiot, standing by the wall opposite the bathroom until he hears your “You can come in.”

After you’ve washed your hands you sit on the edge of the bathtub and pat the space next to you for Peter to join you and you chat about whatever comes to your mind. So you did want a break from the party too, and Peter is glad to provide that.

“What song is that?” Peter asks. The music is loud enough for you to clearly hear it even upstairs in the bathroom.

“I don’t know, I’ll shazam it. You’re right, it sounds good.”

When you unlock your phone the screen is filled with the picture of a vibrator. You ignore it and go to Shazam the song, but Peter can’t let you off like that.

You always get to tease him so he smirks when he can finally get you back, “Wait wait wait,” he takes your phone from you, lifting it high in case you want to take it from him.

“What is this?” He asks, smiling, teasing you lovingly and in good fun but you look at him as if he’s talking about the most boring thing ever, not embarrassed in the slightest, but once more, that could be a good sign; another sign of your close relationship.

“Oh, it’s this vibrator. But it’s way too expensive for me.”

Peter licks his lips, trying not to freak out. He doesn’t know why he thought talking to you about a vibrator would be a good idea. But he tries to appear as calm as you, “Why is it expensive? What’s so special about it?”

“Well, it basically sucks your clit. But I don’t want to spend over 100 dollars on something like that when I can just go out and find a guy to suck my clit within like five minutes. It’s all those guys on campus think about, I swear. I’m glad you’re not like that, Pete” you smile at him and put your head on his shoulder, completely catching him off guard with your words.

He won’t be able to jerk off without thinking about you for days now; meaning he won’t be able to jerk off for days. Do you mean you’d hate knowing that Peter thinks about you sexually or do you just mean that there’s no pressure with Peter? And that any other male friend would have asked for sex by now?

Peter knows he’s not a perv, but he doesn’t know if you’d say the same if you knew you were the protagonist of his spank bank. 

“Wait, actually, a friend told me they’re way cheaper if you buy them in-store and they’ll have more to choose from... will you go with me?” You ask him with a big fake pout.

“To a.. a sex shop?”

“I don’t want to go alone. And you’re my best friend.”

He can’t say no to you after you call him that, even if having a constant reminder of what you use to masturbate is going to kill him.

“O-okay. But why can’t you just go with your friend?”

“I’m not as comfortable around her as I am around you. Unless you really don’t want to.”

“No no I’ll go,” he nods and you grin.

“I’m sure they’ll have something for you too,” you say with raised eyebrows. And even though his hand and the thoughts about you make him cum hard and fast enough that he doesn’t feel like he needs a sex toy, your words help him feel a little less guilty. You telling him to go buy a sex toy suggests that you’re not grossed out when thinking of him masturbating, so maybe you’d understand that he’s got to do what he’s got to do sometimes, and you actually wouldn’t completely hate him if you found out what goes on in Peter’s mind when he jerks off.

“But we’re not going before we finish our assignment.”

“Deal,” you shake his hand with a laugh and join your friends downstairs to play the last few rounds of drinking games before you go home.

You’re good, but the other team is better. 

You didn’t really want to drink tonight and are only playing for fun but Peter likes following the rules so someone has to have the drinks. You assure him he doesn’t have to but Peter downs all the drinks for you and the ones for himself, relying on his enhanced abilities to drink them like water. He has one drink and then five more and when you two leave the party he realises he’s drunk.

You insist on taking him to your room to make sure he’s okay but Peter is a funny drunk so he doesn’t feel too bad. If he gets to sleep in your bed he could never feel bad, and knowing you you would never offer if you weren’t okay with it.

“I like when you take care of me,” Peter smiles at you when you tuck him into bed and he takes your hand in his, “And I like when we hold hands.”

“I like it too,” you kiss his forehead and Peter practically swoons. You were holding his hand the whole way back home from the party, like one of those people keeping a toddler on a leash and he’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow morning but right now he’s just grateful for the constant affection.

You seem no bit annoyed that you have to deal with a drunk Peter, you’re just spending time with your best friend (he hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him that) who happens to be drunk.

“Will you need a bucket?” You ask as you pull down your skirt and leave on your cropped shirt.

“A what?” He asks, heart beating harder as he stares at your half-naked form.

“Do you think you’ll throw up?” You ask.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

When you walk over to the bed Peter sees everything in slow motion. You stand next to the bed for a few seconds, tapping on your phone, and Peter admires your beautiful body while he can.

“You know how much I love your legs? They look so good,” he says, and he can’t tell if he’s embarrassingly drunk right now or not. He just knows that your legs are perfect. You’re perfect. And that’s something his sober self would wholeheartedly agree with.

You smile and turn off the lights, leaving the window open so Peter can get some fresh air but it also leaves enough light for Peter to admire your legs some more.

“Scoot over,” you tell him and get in bed with him.

“No, you don’t understand how incredible your legs are.” He gets one last glance at them before you pull the blanket over your body.

“Thank you, Peter,” you smile, and he sees by the crinkles next to your eyes that it’s genuine and maybe you don’t hate him looking at your body as much as he’s been worrying you would.

You talk a little more but minutes later the conversation consists more of yawning than talking and Peter sobers up when he realises he will be sleeping next to you. It’s his first time sleeping in a woman’s bed, and he’s glad it’s yours.

He’s taken naps next to you and there was that one time you slept next to each other on the sofa, but this is different. You’re alone in your room, right next to each other, in one bed, sharing one blanket. He can feel the warmth of your half-naked body and before he knows it your familiar presence calms him down enough to fall asleep quickly.

*

When Peter wakes up next to you the following morning, it takes a few moments for it to all come back to him.

He knows there’s no way you slept with each other, Peter was kinda drunk, neither of you have even confessed any feelings and you wouldn’t have a one night stand the first time you have sex. 

But when he gently lifts the blanket, making sure he doesn’t wake you up, he’s met with the sight of your lovely belly and heavenly thighs, and Peter thinks from the outside it could look like you had sex. 

Not that anyone is going to see, but two hormonal college students, both half-naked, waking up next to each other.. It screams something obvious and that thing is not that you two are merely friends.

The thought of it alone makes Peter flustered and he shifts uncomfortably. His eyes widen when he realises that his morning wood is pushed right against your ass. He pulls his hips back as quickly as he can, waking you up in the process.

You’re facing away from him, and the first thing you notice is your and Peter’s interlaced hands. His cheeks warm up as he notices them too. His arm is resting above your head on the pillow, fingers next to your face where they’re loosely intertwined with yours.

He doesn’t remember waking up in the night, so you must have somehow ended up holding hands in your sleep, both finding your way to the other even while unconscious.

You squeeze his hand and twist your body to look at Peter’s face. “Hi,” you mumble, smiling sleepily.

“Hi,” Peter says, opening his mouth minimally just in case he has bad morning breath.

Your eyes flit across his face with a look he can’t decipher. “Goodnight,” you say a few seconds later and you lie back down in your tired daze, pushing against Peter and pulling his arm over your waist.

“Wait,” you turn around again, “Are you okay? Got a hangover or anything?”

“I’m good, thanks. Go back to sleep,” he smiles, partially because he knows you still need rest but also because he wants you to go back to sleep so he can take care of himself. It’s becoming painful how hard he is.

“Okay. But stay, you’re warm.”

He most definitely is warm, he knows he’s blushing like crazy.

You pull the blanket further up your body and scoot back against Peter, and the way your ass pushes against his crotch nearly makes him moan. He doesn't know how you're not noticing what's going on.

He scoots his hips back as far as he can and waits a few minutes until you’ve drifted off to sleep again. He carefully removes himself from you and goes to your bathroom. You have a bathtub, big enough for both of you, he thinks, with a showerhead on the wall.

Before he can even bring himself to care about the temperature, Peter turns on the water and pulls his clothes off in a hurry, wrapping a hand around himself before he’s even really in the shower.

He leans a hand against the wall, resting his head against it as his other hand speeds up, jerking himself off while he thinks about you in the other room. You, so pretty, so caring, so sexy in just your underwear and a short shirt. You, not knowing that Peter is about to cum in your shower, so close to you, thinking about you.

The water is only barely louder than the sound his hand makes against his cock, and he bites his lip to stop any moans from coming out.

Peter cums when he hears the squeaking of your bed; you’re getting up, you could walk in any second. While he cums, Peter’s mind wanders to you on your knees, his dick sliding in and out of your mouth as you look up at him with your gorgeous eyes.

He washes his cum off the bathroom tiles on the wall and tries to wash the guilty feeling off himself.

Suddenly the door opens slightly, “Hey can I come in? I won’t look, I just wanna brush my teeth.”

Peter makes sure to slide the shower door to the side so it’s covering him and he tells you to come in.

He peeks out of the shower and you smile at him through the mirror. He catches your eyes drifting lower but you can barely even make out the outline of Peter’s body through the frosted glass. 

Peter casts his own glance at you and how you’re still not wearing anything but panties and that short shirt. You stretch your arms, still trying to shake the tired feeling, and your shirt lifts so that Peter can already see the flesh of your tits. But you stop stretching just before your top lifts over your nipples and he quickly turns to look at the wall in the shower instead.

He quickly washes himself using your shower gel, maybe he’ll smell just like you now.

You hand Peter a towel just at the right moment and he wraps it around himself before stepping out of the shower.

“Wait, leave it on,” you tell him.

In his still horny brain a scenario plays out where you said that a few moments earlier and joined Peter in the shower.

This time you don’t tell him if it’s okay for him to look while you’re changing so he diverts his gaze before you slip out of your clothes.

You squeal when you get in the shower, “Peter, why is it so cold? What’s wrong with you?” 

He must not have realised how cold it was, but once he got into the shower he only cared about coming, and he blocked everything else out. By the time he was washing his body, he must have become used to the temperature already and didn’t notice.

Peter brushes his teeth with his second toothbrush that he’s got in your bathroom and quickly goes into your bedroom so he won’t be in the same room as you while you’re naked and he’s only got a towel wrapped around him.

You come out dressed in the clothes you took into the bathroom with you.

“Sorry that I used your shower,” Peter says, sitting on your bed with nothing but your towel.

“You’re welcome here whenever and welcome to use whatever, you know that. But showering that cold should be a crime,” you smile at him, “Should I get you some clothes?”

You go to Peter’s room to get clothes for him and he changes into them in your bathroom.

“I know it’s the weekend but can we get that assignment done today? I wanna go buy my vibrator soon,” you pout.

Peter forgot all about that. How is he supposed to study with you if he knows you’ll go out together to buy a sex toy after?

But somehow he manages. Well, you realise you can do it mostly by yourself once you properly start and Peter is only there for moral support (even though he’s the one who needs moral support; he doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, pretend that he didn’t just jerk off while thinking of you and pretend that it–by far–wasn’t the first time.)

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask Peter as you’re both on your way to buy your stupid vibrator that Peter would love to replace.

He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but your worried look tells him he looks exactly as nervous from the outside as he feels. He’s never been to a sex shop. Are they going to ID you? Are you going to meet someone you know? Is it going to be all dingy?

Normally, you’re like an anchor to Peter, your presence can make him feel comfortable in situations that would usually make him panic. But in this situation, you’re making him even antsier. Not in a way that he would describe as anxious but more like a, he’s scared he’ll get a boner any second. That’s always a risk when he’s with you but that risk quadruples when you’re going to a sex shop to buy a vibrator for yourself.

You stop Peter in his tracks and stand in front of him to wipe his sweaty forehead with your sleeve, his heart beating even faster now. “You know you don’t have to come in if it makes you that nervous. But it’s just a shop.”

“What? Yeah I’m fine, pff, like so fine. I’m just hot,” Peter says, watching your eyes go to the thick winter coat Peter is wearing. You’re wearing one too. Even in his jacket, Peter could do with a bit more warmth.

“Here,” you unzip his jacket, and even if it’s only to assist Peter with his stupid lie, you’re still undressing him. You’re not helping the boner risk decrease at all.

The shop is classy and clean and the employees leave you alone (unlike when you dragged Peter to Lush that one time and he was forced to try out bath bombs and oil that he didn’t know the purpose of).

Now he can tell you’re flustered too, just a little bit. Holding on to Peter’s arm the whole time, you find what you need, pay, and put your gloves on top of the packaged vibrator just in case anyone decides to look in your bag.

Even though it’s a Saturday afternoon, the shops aren’t busy so you go to look for some new clothes. Peter thinks you could wear a potato sack and you’d still look pretty, so he’s not the best judge when you come out of the dressing rooms to ask for his opinion on whatever clothes you’re trying on.

“This is so ugly, oh my god,” he hears you from inside the dressing room, laughing.

You pop your head out behind the curtain to make sure no one sees you as you show Peter a top that, yes–even on you, looks ugly. You still look gorgeous, that’s for sure, but even your perfect face and body can’t save the Shrek-coloured thing that is supposed to be a t-shirt.

“You know, you’re the only one who’s allowed to see me in something as ugly as this,” you say absentmindedly as you go back to try on something else and Peter’s heart beats faster at your words.

It might sound ridiculous to an outsider, but to Peter these little things mean the world.

He might not be able to tell if what you feel for him is platonic or more, but he knows you feel something for him. You feel a lot for him. He feels it every time you so much as look at him. 

With you, Peter feels loved.

The love you give him feels like it’s supposed to be for a lover, supposed to be for that one special person. And the lines between friendship and more are so blurry in your relationship that he can’t tell how much is spilling onto the romantic side already.

Peter contemplates paying for your new jeans but in the end, he’s too awkward (and too broke) in front of the cashier to interrupt when you get out your money. Besides things like cinema tickets, drinks and food, Peter has never paid for anything that you bought and it would feel very boyfriend-y.

You get food on your way home and by the time you’re in Peter’s room, it’s dark outside already. Peter was surprised that you even came to his room and when he keeps noticing you looking at the bag with your new toy in it, his assumption that you’d rather be doing something else now is confirmed.

You’ve been so casual when you talk about things like vibrators and getting off, but Peter has never had the courage to properly contribute anything to the conversation. But he decides to put on his big boy pants and before he can chicken out he nods towards his door and says, “Go on, try out your vibrator. I know you’re dying to.”

You give him a charming and apologetic smile, snatching your bag, ready to go. “I’d love to spend time with you, you know that but–”

“I know. But we have enough time for that tomorrow. Just don’t break your–” Don’t break what? Don’t break your pussy? Your clit? He’s never said any of those words out loud.

“I won’t,” you help him out and climb on the bed again to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pancakes as always?”

“Pancakes as always,” Peter smiles, feeling himself blush, “Text me your review of the toy,” he says before you leave.

“I will,” you smile back at him, wave, and close the door.

Peter waits a few moments until he thinks you’ve arrived at your door. Are you going to throw yourself on your bed as soon as you get in? Shower first? Are you going to slowly take off all your clothes, caress your body to turn yourself on? Seduce yourself? Or are you going to push your pants down just a few inches and shove the vibrator between your legs?

Whatever you’re doing, thinking of any of those scenarios makes Peter hard immediately; that, and the tension from today that he can finally release.

He moves to the side of the bed that you were just lying on, and the sheets still smell like you.

Peter unbuckles his belt and pushes down his jeans, grabbing himself through his boxers and instantly feeling a sense of relief.

He imagines you lying in your bed, right now, two fingers between your legs. You’re so wet from being with Peter, the guy you’re into, all day, that your fingertips easily glide over your skin.

Peter shifts and runs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum. The warm, familiar pressure is already building up in Peter’s body, and he slides his fist up and down himself faster.

In Peter’s mind, you’re spreading your lips now, holding the vibrator against your clit. You jolt at the first contact and smile, knowing you’re about to feel nothing but bliss.

Your body relaxes and you let the vibration take over completely, chasing your orgasm that’s so close after only a minute. You throw your head back when you cum, your eyebrows scrunched together. Your legs start shaking once you can’t take it anymore, but you press the vibrator to your clit during the last few aftershocks.

Peter cums at the same time as you do in his imagination. He’s spilling over his abs and his hands, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

He lies in his bed for a few more moments, sighing as he cleans up the mess he just made. He gets a message from you: Had a nice day btw :) Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow <3

He smiles and texts back, too exhausted to feel bad for what he just did.

Tomorrow will be the third day in a row that you’re spending time together and you’re showing no signs of getting tired of him. But at this rate, it seems like Peter will never know what being with you while you orgasm is actually like.

He can be patient, but he doesn’t know if he’s waiting for something that will never happen. 

He doesn’t even care about the sex, he just wants to hold your hand and know what it means, know that it means that you’re in a romantic relationship.

He’ll give you all the time you need, that’s all he can do. He simply can’t confess his feelings, he can plan on doing it and dream about it as much as he wants, but when he’s standing in front of you he can’t risk losing you.

Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough, and who knows, maybe you’re thinking the exact same thing right now, trying to be brave but you just can’t.

Maybe.

*

Peter knocks at your door the next day, ready to get pancakes like you always do on Sundays. There’s a lot of commotion behind the door and you take a while to open it.

“You’re early,” you say, hair messy and overall dishevelled.

“Am I? I don’t mind waiting,” Peter says.

“I’ve just quickly got to shower, you can go back to your room or wait here, whichever you want.”

“No problem, I’ll just wait here.” Peter feels as if that’s the wrong answer because you don’t exactly look thrilled that he’ll be in your room, but you still let him in with a small smile. He knows that you can’t be mad at him and by the time Peter’s on your bed and you're about to go to the bathroom, you’re giving him a genuine smile and say you won’t be long.

Peter gets out his phone as he hears you turning on the water and he drops to his back on your bed.

Just as he’s about to go on Instagram, he hears a quiet, mechanical whirring. He wouldn’t be able to pick up on it without his enhanced hearing.

He hears how you smack your hand over your mouth, but you’re not quick enough. Peter still heard a tiny moan.

So that’s why you didn’t want Peter coming in. You’ve probably been making yourself cum all night and you weren’t finished with the last round.

Peter sits up and tries to stick his fingers in his ears, but even if he can’t hear you anymore he’s still got the vivid image of you in his head, only a wall separating you two.

He stands up and looks for something to distract himself before he gets hard, but to make things even worse, Peter’s eyes land on a pair of panties next to your bed.

He feels like a perv as he picks them up. He can see your arousal still glistening in them, and it’s like they’re calling out Peter’s name.

He’s about to lift them to his face when he hears you turning off the water. Peter stuffs the panties into his jeans pocket quickly and out of reflex. He stiffly sits on your bed, unsure if he still has enough time to pull your underwear out of his pocket again and throw it under your bed. 

He’s too nervous to hear what you’re doing, his ears ringing, and before he can bring himself to quickly put your underwear back, you’re coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.

With your innocent rambling about college he manages to calm down but you and your stupid vibrator are still on his mind. But it’s a good thing that you two can talk about stuff like that, so maybe he’ll get his mind off it once he asks you about it.

“So, is it good?” He asks you as you slide into the booth at the place you always go to for pancakes.

“Is what good?”

“Your, your vibrator thing? You didn’t send me a review,” he says.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you laugh, “It’s so good, oh my god. I’m so glad we don’t have roommates here cause I did it like six times last night. I get why people pay so much for it. I mean it’s supposed to simulate oral sex and I can’t imagine that it feels the same but I guess I’ll find out one day.”

“You always have me if you want to find out how it feels.”

He can only gather the courage to say that because of what you once said about sucking his dick for practice so you could suck Andrew’s dick for a better score. The only difference is that you turned out to be joking, but Peter is serious.

He probably sounds too serious too because you give him a questioning, “Huh?”

“Well- well I’m just saying if you wanna compare your toy to oral sex then I... you know... my tongue is available to you,” he says it exactly how it comes to his mind, unsure if he should make it sound more like a joke.

You laugh, declaring it a joke yourself, “Okay, thanks. You’re so cute.”

It’s not ideal but the fact that you’re not running away from him and gagging shows him that at least the thought of Peter going down on you doesn’t disgust you. The fact that you made a joke about going down on him first, even if that was weeks ago, gives Peter a tiny bit of hope that maybe his instinct has been right all this time. Maybe you do like him back and you just need a bit more time.

“Um, I heard that next week there’s going to be loads of shooting stars. I was thinking we could drive out of the city and go stargazing. I already asked James and he said we can take his car–the truck, it’s big enough for us to lie down in while we look at the sky, it’s going to be warmer next week too and–”

“I’d love to,” you grin.

He mirrors your smile immediately because it actually took a lot of convincing for Peter’s friend James to let Peter have his car. And more importantly, looking at the stars sounds very romantic. He wasn't sure if he should invite you to something so obviously romantic.

What if it makes you realise that Peter likes you and you distance yourself from him because you don’t feel the same?

What if you do feel the same, but you need your time and it’s too early for a date-like activity?

But what if... what if it’s just the right thing?

You hold hands, you’ve slept in a bed together, so Peter doubts you will be freaked out by stargazing. But Peter can already feel the butterflies just thinking about lying under the night sky with you, and what if you don’t?

But maybe Peter is ready for the risk after all. He’ll see if you’re enjoying yourself, try to see in your beautiful eyes if you’re as smitten as him. He's realised that he’ll have to try one day and now that you’ve agreed to his plan, it feels like this is the right timing, the right thing. Maybe he’ll even ask you how you feel, or make a comment about how romantic the situation is.

And if you and Peter belong together, then maybe it’s time for you. He certainly feels that he’s ready. He’s not expecting a kiss, he’s not expecting anything except the tiniest hint that a romantic night with Peter doesn’t leave you cold. That would be more than enough to keep him going for so many more months to come.

He can wait if you need time but he’s just one man and his passion for you burns so brightly inside him that he just needs something, no matter how small it is.

You two walk home, your bellies filled with pancakes and warmth from seeing your person. No matter if it’s platonic or romantic, Peter would be blind if he didn’t see that he makes you happy and how much you glow and grin and his presence. 

You hang out on campus for a bit more but you tell him you still need to study and you’ll see him tomorrow (he tries not to think about how you’re probably lying and are simply going to use your vibrator over and over).

Peter changes into sweats once he gets to his room and as he’s putting his jeans away he notices something pink peeking out of the pocket. Your panties. He completely forgot about them.

He carefully pulls them out, holding them like they’re a sacred treasure.

Making himself comfortable on his bed, he takes a deep breath before bringing your underwear up to his face.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting your arousal to smell like, not like this, but it’s even better. 

It smells heavenly, just like everything else about you.

He bunches your panties up in his hand and presses them against his face, inhaling your scent while he reaches a hand under his sweatpants and strokes himself. 

He’s been hard since he remembered he had your panties and he doesn’t even think about you making yourself wet, your smell alone has him coming undone within seconds.

He does it again before going to bed, this time wrapping the panties around his hand so he’s jerking himself off with them. He bites his t-shirt in an attempt to muffle his moans as the material slides up and down his cock.

He fucks his fist as hard and as fast as he can, his bed starting to squeak from the intensity of it.

Your wetness on your panties has long dried but the thought of your arousal so close to his dick has him–once again–reaching his orgasm pathetically fast. He sighs after he cums, examining the panties to make sure he pulled them away in time and there’s none of his cum on them.

He wants to save them for another time; as many times as they’ll still have your addicting smell on them.

He cleans the mess off himself, his cum ending up in a tissue that he throws into the trash can with all the other tissues. He’ll empty it before you come over the next time.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡

You’ve been driving for half an hour now, the city nothing but a few lights in the rearview mirror. 

You find a spot next to a field, not a soul to be seen anywhere near you. You get the blankets and snacks to make yourselves comfortable in the back of James’s pickup truck that Peter borrowed.

“Look,” you point towards the sky, but Peter misses the shooting star. He goes back to looking at your beautiful face, only to find your eyes already on him.

He feels your hand on the side of his face, pushing his head to face the sky again, “Look at the stars, not at me,” you say and he can hear the grin in your voice. You’re enjoying yourself, and that’s all that matters. You want him to enjoy himself too, not knowing that your face is so much more interesting to look at.

After a few moments of staring into the brightly lit sky–it never looks like this in the polluted city–he has to admit, the night sky isn’t bad either.

It only takes a few seconds until another shooting star races across the sky and you share an excited look, “Did you see that?” You ask.

“You’re supposed to make a wish,” Peter whispers, eyes closed as he wishes for a relationship with you.

You’re still looking at him when he opens his eyes, your gaze intense, eyes flitting across his face.

“Did you make a wish?” Peter asks. You nod and slowly divert your gaze towards the masterpiece of nature above you again.

He can’t shake the feeling that your wish also had something to do with him. Something romantic. He always overthinks and doubts himself but this is one thing he’s sure about.

But the moment is fleeting and Peter doesn’t find the words to say. You’re back to looking at the stars, and he doesn’t want to have to grab your face to kiss you.

He swallows down the disappointment and tries to enjoy the time with you, his dear friend. Not many people have a friendship like yours and at this moment he just tries to be grateful for that.

“Peter?” Your voice is quiet.

“Mhm?”

“I’m so glad we met,” you turn to your side, your whole body facing him now. He can hear the raw emotion in your voice, he thinks he can even see tears in your eyes. That’s what your shared love does to Peter too. He could cry just thinking about it.

“Me too,” he says, reaching for your hand, trying to bring the monstrosity of his feelings into words to let you know that nothing has made him as happy as meeting you, but the words won’t come out. 

“Our friendship means so much to me,” you say, and it stings. In this romantic moment, cuddled up beneath the stars, is that all Peter will ever be to you? A friend?

You continue, “I‘m sorry if I ruin it with what I‘m about to do.”

“What–”

You lean in and kiss Peter.

The world stops. Nothing matters, nothing but your lips on Peter’s. He always thought he’d be overcome with great excitement when you first kiss, an explosion of fireworks in his mind and his insides, but he feels at peace. It simply feels right.

“Did I just ruin our friendship?” You whisper, and it’s then that Peter realises that he barely kissed you back. He was too stunned to.

He puts his hands on your face and pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours over and over.

“You didn’t ruin our friendship, you turned it into something better, so much better. And you know that our friendship is hard to beat,” Peter says.

You let out a laugh of joy, “It is,” and you kiss him again, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him as close as you can.

Your lips are soft, so so soft, and even in the cold night, Peter feels warm because he has your body against his.

“Could you maybe uh… slap me?” Peter asks.

“Um, what?”

“Just so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”

You pinch his cheek instead and you both smile. Peter’s not waking up. He’s already awake. It’s not a dream, this is actually happening.

The fireworks come after all, an explosion of happiness shooting through his chest when he realises that this is real.

He hugs you tight, as tight as he can without breaking you.

Peter’s heart drops when you pull away and tears stain your cheeks, “What-what’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m just so happy.” Your voice breaks as more tears rush down your face but your eyes are full of happiness.

Tonight, Peter was hoping for a hint that maybe in the future you see something more than friendship between you two too. What he got was all of you. A confession of your feelings, a raw exposure of your deepest emotions, vulnerability. But you trust him. And he’s so glad you do. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe and comfortable. 

He starts crying too, just a few tears, either because he’s seeing you cry or because it’s the first time in his life that he’s ecstatic enough to experience happy tears—he’s been waiting for this for so long, unsure if it would ever even happen. All the doubt from the last months tumbles away – none of it matters anymore. You kissed him. 

“I really want to blow my nose but I don’t want to leave you,” Peter sniffles.

You look at him, “Go blow your nose, Peter.”

“Okay.”

“I have some tissues in my bag.”

You keep your hand on Peter’s leg while he reaches for your bag and half a minute later you’re reunited again with you lying in Peter’s arms.

You drove all the way to look at the stars but you can’t keep your eyes off each other, never going more than a minute without kissing. It takes a few more minutes for you to pretend that the stars are more interesting than Peter, and you straddle him once you decide you can’t go any longer without being as close to him as possible.

Peter wraps his arms around your waist, enjoying your weight on him. The kisses turn from pecks into something more, but it’s soft and unhurried. You’re taking your time with Peter, savouring the feel of him while Peter takes it all, takes all you give him.

Your wet mouths on each other is the only sound far and wide; even mother nature is quiet as you kiss Peter in the back of this truck, out in the country with no one else around.

You shift, your lips never leaving Peter’s, and start grinding against him, slowly.

He squeezes your waist harder as it becomes difficult to control himself. The only thing stopping him from ruining his pants is the fact that you’re both wearing jeans, so you’re narrowly missing Peter’s hardness, doing what feels good for you.

You stop abruptly with horror in your eyes and Peter strokes your back, “Everything okay? Why’d you stop?”

You look down, a bashful smile on your lips, “I didn’t realise I was doing that.”

Peter stops himself from groaning. He’s getting more turned on with every passing second.

“You don’t have to stop on my behalf.”

After two seconds of contemplation, you kiss Peter again, adjusting your position. You both gasp into each other’s mouths when you’ve perfectly aligned your bodies, and they start moving perfectly in tune with one another.

“I’ve been dreaming of having you on top of me for so long,” Peter says, hands now on your hips, feeling your every movement.

“And I’ve wanted to be on top of you.. for so long,” you’re distracted, pushing yourself up with your hands on Peter’s chest, your voice faltering as you hold in a moan.

Peter feels incredible – everything you do makes him feel incredible. 

So incredible that he doesn’t know how he hasn’t cum yet, but he’s trying so hard not to.

He nearly moans when you grab his hoodie harder and you whimper, “I’m so close.”

One hand is at your jeans, trying to undo the buttons but you can’t, too lost in pleasure.

“Peter, unbutton my jeans,” you say–or rather whimper, “Please.”

And even though he’s on the brink of coming, nothing matters more than your orgasm right now, so he quickly fumbles with the buttons and opens them, your hand disappearing down your pants immediately.

Peter grabs the backs of your thighs as you cum on top of him, your face more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined, so pretty and so vulnerable just for him. He cums at the same time as you, trying to hide it but his hips push up against yours nevertheless.

You let yourself fall to Peter’s side, hiking your leg up over his lap. Peter puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“Did you uh..” you look up at him, half teasing him, half unsure if it even happened.

Peter drags a hand over his face, “Yeah… I.. came in my pants.”

“Oh,” you try not to laugh, “Sorry.”

He looks at you, “No, don’t apologise, that was one of the best moments of my life.”

You give him baby wipes from your bag while you pack the stuff and wait for him in the car. He reluctantly hands you the baby wipes when he gets in next to you, looking at your lap.

“What?” You ask.

“I’ve known how you smell for nearly a week now and I don’t know how much longer I can go without having a taste of you.” He’s thinking about your panties, safely stored in his room but they’ve lost even the last traces of your smell.

You follow Peter’s eyes towards your crotch and figure out what he’s talking about, “How… how do you know how I smell?” 

Shit. 

He forgot that you’re not supposed to know that. 

But maybe, subconsciously, he said it on purpose so he can get any secrets out before you two get serious. Or maybe he’s just a dumbass, but he’s trying to look at the bright side. He’s not capable of any negative feelings when you just kissed him.

“Peter?” You ask. You don’t sound mad, you’re just curious.

“I uh, I took a pair of underwear from your room,” he starts.

“The pink ones? I’ve been looking for them.”

“Yeah, they’re pink. And it was the day after you got that clit sucking toy thing so I kept imagining you using it and then the smell made it so much more real…” he says, head hanging low in shame. You still don’t sound mad or grossed out but you haven’t heard all of it yet.

“Go on.”

“I used your underwear to um… jerk off,” he doesn’t meet your eyes until he hears your next words.

“That’s kind of hot,” you bury a hand in his hair, looking at him like you want to eat him up.

“R-really? You’re not mad?”

You shake your head and lean over to kiss him and Peter feels his blush up to his ears.

“I do want my panties back though.”

He tells you you’ll get them back and starts the engine to drive back.

“Wait,” you say, “Didn’t you want a taste?”

He immediately stops the car and leans over. 

“I- well, I didn’t get a chance to get that wet but..”

“I’ll take anything,” Peter pleads.

You kiss his nose and unbutton your jeans, your fingers disappearing beneath them. He hears the wetness and is hard at once. And that’s when you didn’t have a chance to get that wet? You pull two glistening fingers out and bring them in front of his lips.

His cheeks heat up when he leans forward to take them into his mouth. 

He moans at the taste. Sweet yet tangy. He wants to bury his face in you immediately; but you seem tired and he’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that another time.

Peter pulls you close and kisses you, he’s not that good with words so he hopes his tongue in your mouth tells him how much he wants you. It doesn’t have to be now, he just wants you to know.

“I like you.” It slips out of Peter’s mouth when you pull away from the kiss but his words make you connect your lips to his again.

“I like you too,” you smile, nearly laughing because it should probably have been obvious to Peter as soon as you kissed him. Leaning back in your seat in content, you look at Peter with those beautiful eyes of yours. 

Those four little words could make him cry happy tears again but he pulls himself together when you turn on one of your favourite songs and he turns away when you use the baby wipes. 

Before he drives you two home, a thought pops into Peter’s head; a thought that he’s had time and time again and he has to make sure that you know exactly how he likes you.

“But I um… I want you to know that I really do like you, as a person, romantically. I– of course I enjoyed what just happened–you have no idea just how much–”

“I think it was obvious how much you enjoyed it, Peter,” you interrupt him with a teasing smile that makes him blush and stutter for a few seconds before he continues.

“So, while, of course, I’m into you sexually, the emotional and romantic part is so much more important to me, and I need you to know that. But I’ve had so many sexual thoughts about you and, now that I’ve told you that I had your underwear and everything–”

“So you feel bad that you’ve had sexual thoughts about me?” You sum it up and Peter closes his mouth and nods.

“Well, don’t. Peter, in the last month I’ve spent every minute away from you with my fingers between my legs, imagining–wishing they were yours. I’m glad I was not the only one, it’s nice to hear that you’ve been as affected as I’ve been.”

“Are you sure? Because I remember that time when you said how all guys on campus just think with their dicks and how I’m different from them but I’m really not that different. If I’m not thinking about hugging you or thinking about your smile, then I’m always thinking about getting in your pants. And that is a lot of the time. And I’m sure that, even if you’ve thought about me in that way too, I’ve thought about you way more and I just need to know if you think I’m a perv or something.”

“Peter, hey,” you cup his cheek, “I don’t think that. And you don’t think with your dick. You just said you’ve wanted me for months and you didn’t even kiss me. You’re the opposite of those guys that have nothing but sex on their minds so that they can’t even think straight and ruin friendships with girls. You didn’t do that. You thought about my and your feelings and about our connection rather than getting in my pants.”

“But I did think a lot about getting into your pants,” he sighs.

“I thought about you getting into my pants too. That’s fine. That’s the beauty of liking someone, there’s not just the romantic side but also the sexual side. But you didn’t let the sexual side control you and you cared about my feelings first and foremost. Don’t feel bad for thinking about having sex with me, I’m glad you do. But you do so much more than that. You’re nothing like those guys.”

“I’m not like the other guys?” Peter laughs and then kisses you. (He still can’t believe he’s been kissing you all night). You shake your head, reassuring him.

Hearing you say that helps him immensely. He never felt bad about imagining what having sex with you would be like. It was the fact that it was without your knowledge and he had no idea if you’d be grossed and creeped out if you knew about it because you only saw him as a friend. He was scared of making you uncomfortable if you ever found out.

But you’ve found out now and you’re not just saying that it’s okay for him to think about that, but that you have thoughts about it too. (And now his thoughts are going to be even better, knowing that you might be thinking the same thing as him and his fantasies might turn into more than just fantasies).

The journey back has both of you smiling; what just happened still seems unreal, but every shared grin reminds Peter that it really did happen.

It breaks Peter’s heart when he delivers you back to your room, but he can tell you need sleep and he’s not exactly wide awake either. You kiss him like you mean it and you don’t pull away until you’re breathless.

When he gets to his room, Peter quickly puts your panties in his laundry basket so he won’t forget, and then he throws himself onto his bed and squeals loudly. He doesn’t care if anyone hears, he’s happy and he doesn’t mind if people know.

He gets a message from his next-door neighbour Brian:

Bro, you okay?

I heard a weird noise

He texts back: Y/n kissed me :)))))

Brian: About time, happy for you!

Peter considers going over to talk to his friend and tell him all about tonight. He’s tired but there’s no way he’ll sleep now anyway.

He then gets a phone call from you, and he picks up immediately.

“Peter?”

His face drops at your unsure voice. Did you change your mind?

“Yeah?”

“Did… did that really happen?” He thinks he can hear something positive in your voice but it’s hard to tell over the phone.

“It did.”

“Oh,” you say, “Good. I’m having a hard time believing it actually happened. I’ve been waiting for so long.”

He smiles again immediately, “Trust me, it hasn’t fully sunken in yet for me either.”

“Do you maybe wanna come over?” You ask, “I know it’s late but it’s the weekend so..”

He jumps to his feet and sets off instantly, “I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”

You giggle, “Me neither. I guess I was tired, but I’ll just be thinking about you all night anyway.”

You stay on the phone with him until he’s at your door, pulling him in for a kiss before he’s even in your room.

You push Peter onto the bed, lie on top of him, and hug him so tight that he can barely breathe. This would be the best way to go.

You’re both exhausted yet excited and interrupt each other with a kiss every few minutes while you’re talking about anything that comes to your mind.

“How long have you liked me?” You ask.

Peter smiles as he thinks back to the first time you met, “You made me nervous from the start because you’re so pretty, and then we talked about such personal things the first time we met. But I didn’t realise just how attracted to you I was until class a few days later when you were laughing about Professor Garfield’s jokes and talking about his ass.”

You pout and cup Peter’s cheek, “And then later I even made that joke about sucking his dick for a better score. Aw no, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs, “You just came on top of me and not him.”

You hide your face in his neck at the reminder that you just nearly had sex with Peter outside. His hand rubs over your back as if he’s not blushing at the thought of it.

“When did you start liking me?” He asks and you lift your head again.

“I thought you were cute the first time I saw you and then when we talked in the kitchen I knew I’d have to keep you because I immediately felt comfortable around you. And then… I don’t know. You just did your thing. And then my heart did its thing too.”

“I’m glad my charm worked on you.”

“It worked wonders,” you push yourself up on your hands and kiss Peter again, staying on top of him for a while until his lips feel sore.

“But regardless of this romantic… and sexual side,” you shyly smile at each other, “I meant what I said. Our friendship means a lot to me. And I’m glad we became friends before anything else.”

“Me too.”

He knows what you mean. Being friends allowed you two to get comfortable around each other first without any pressure to do things to make you attractive to the other person. Now you have a solid base of trust and you know each other; you don’t have to worry about only showing your best sides like other couples do in the beginning stages. You know each other inside out, (except for the fact that you’ve liked each other for a while — but that’s different), the good, the bad, the ugly – yet you’re still choosing each other. Happily so. 

You both lie on your sides, Peter’s hand reaching over to rest on your hip. He can’t help but smile the whole time.

“Were you planning to kiss me? Or was it spontaneous?”

“I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to kiss you for months now, but for some reason it never occurred to me to make the first move. I was pretty sure you like me but the time went on and you didn’t make a move and I got scared that I’d ruin our friendship if I totally misinterpreted everything and you didn’t like me back. 

“And I would have never forgiven myself for that. But when we were lying in the back of that truck, underneath the stars, I don’t know, it was so romantic and you were looking at me with so much adoration that there’s no way I wouldn’t have kissed you. My heart was leading me, I only gathered the courage because my body did what it knew I had to do, I was not in control at that moment, but I guess sometimes it’s good to give up control. But it was definitely spontaneous.”

Peter leans down so his face is right in front of your chest and he whispers, “Thank you, heart,” to which he hears your gorgeous laugh. Your whole body moves with your giggles, pushing your chest even closer to his face. It takes a second for him to get the willpower to pull his face away again.

You connect your lips to his a few more times, Peter’s heart fluttering with every passing second.

“Just so you know, I have liked you all this time, you were right. But I felt the same as you and you’re the most important person to me so I didn’t want to take even the slightest risk when it came to us. There were times when I thought our friendship would even survive me confessing my feelings and you not feeling the same, but by not telling you there was always the hope that you did like me. 

“But if I told you and you didn’t feel the same, even if our friendship survived, it wouldn’t have mattered because it would have broken my heart into a million pieces. And I couldn’t put myself through that-”

“I’d never do that. I’ll take good care of your heart, Peter.”

“I know you will.”

You share a small kiss, Peter intertwining your hands.

“Okay, looking back, I probably should have known that you like me as more than a friend. Your love for my legs gave it away, but at the time I didn’t realise-”

“How do you know that I love your legs?” Peter asks as he turns red, looking at your thighs and resisting the urge to put his hand on one of them.

“When you were drunk, you told me how much you love them. You were basically drooling because of them.”

“Oh.. I don’t remember that. But I do love them.”

“I know,” you smile as you place one of his hands on your thigh and he squeezes the flesh.

You lie next to each other for a while, breath evening out and Peter thinks you’ve fallen asleep until he hears your voice, “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I still can‘t believe that this is actually happening. It‘s like when you‘re at a concert and you don‘t realise that you‘re seeing your favourite artist live and in person, and afterwards you still haven’t realised, and you never really get how lucky you were.”

Peter turns to his side to face you, his tired brain taking a while to answer, but he’s satisfied with what he says, “But a concert only happens once, and we‘ll be together forev— a long time. And longterm. We have plenty of time to realise that it‘s real. Maybe we‘ll realise if you kiss me again.”

You grin immediately and lean in to connect your mouth to Peter’s.

He understands what you’re saying, he can’t quite believe it either. It’s been too long for it to be a dream, he knows that it’s real, but it’ll take a few days for him to realise that he really is the luckiest person on earth. 

He’s grateful that you two have something so beautiful that it nearly feels impossible.

You touch each other for a bit, not sexually, you’re just touching each other’s skin, realising more and more that this is reality.

You lazily make out for a few more minutes until Peter drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had, with you in his arms.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡ 

It’s been a few weeks since that one eventful night and you’re spending even more time with each other than before. Making out with you has become Peter’s new hobby.

He loves that you’re experiencing all your sexual firsts together. You haven’t actually done anything more than kiss since the night under the stars, and he’s more than happy to be patient if you need it but he’s looking forward to more.

“Is it okay if we don’t go all the way yet?” You ask him while you’re both hydrating and eating fruit between makeout sessions, “I definitely want to soon, but maybe not… not yet.”

Peter pulls you on top of his lap and holds you, “We established that the very first time we met, didn’t we? Of course it’s okay if we wait.”

“Okay,” you kiss him, “I don’t mean that we can’t do anything though.”

Peter licks his lips when he realises you’re planning something. You push Peter’s chest so he lies on his back and you slot your hips over his. His eyes flutter shut when he feels your mouth on the special spot on his neck and you slowly start grinding on him.

He grabs your hips and opens his eyes again when you stop kissing him to focus on that sweet place between your legs rubbing against Peter.

You stop when your eyes meet, “You have to close your eyes.”

“I wanna see you though.”

“It’s different from the first time, we’re not out during the night. And the position’s uncomfortable.”

“Then let’s change it.”

He’s already hard and if you continue like that he won’t take much longer; but your pleasure is more important to him so he pulls his sweat shorts further up his leg and lifts you onto his thigh. 

Your eyes go down and you realise what he wants you to do, “But you–”

“Shh, this is about you right now, okay? And I’ll cum as soon as you do anyway so don’t worry about me. This okay?”

He sees how his words give you confidence and you nod, letting yourself fully sit down on his thigh. Peter knew he liked your pretty skirt for more than aesthetic reasons because the only thing between your warm pussy and Peter’s skin is your underwear. He could cum from the feeling of your wet heat through your panties alone, but he tries to focus on making you breathless with his kisses once you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close.

He holds you as you rock yourself on his thigh, becoming surer in your movements after a while, finding what feels best for you. Peter instinctively flexes the muscles in his thigh when you change your position slightly, and your little gasp tells him to continue doing it.

Your wetness slowly but surely drenches your panties and reaches Peter’s skin. You grab his shirt hard and bury your other hand in his hair, pulling. Peter tries bouncing his leg up and down and is rewarded with the sweetest moan coming from your mouth, followed by a gasp and a whispered: “I’m gonna cum.”

Your legs get weaker while you’re coming but, through his own approaching orgasm, Peter pushes your hips in whatever direction you want them to go and together you try to savour your highs for as long as possible. 

Out of breath, you’re still holding onto Peter tightly. As your hand in his hair slowly lets go, you press a kiss to his head, your hand on his shirt easing too as you smooth down the material.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask carefully but Peter shakes his head and purses his lips for you to give him a kiss, and you smile when you do.

“Oh, wait did you really cum?” You’re glancing down at the wet spot on his pants but your eyes widen when you get off him and realise how much you leaked onto his thigh yourself.

“I don’t know how I couldn’t cum when I have the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world having an orgasm on my lap.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face from him while your cheeks heat up. You get off him and he goes to the bathroom to clean up.

You’re absentmindedly biting your lip when Peter comes back and he pulls you out of your daydream with a kiss.

“Do you wanna eat my pussy?”

Peter freezes for a second and then jumps onto the bed. You laugh, “Wait, I need a break first.”

“Okay,” he sits down next to you and swallows. He’s hard already just from the thought of going down on you. He couldn’t be happier that you want him to do it, he’s had daydreams (well, he’s mostly thought about it during nighttime) about it so many times.

“Do you want me to give you a massage?” He asks. It’s something you’ve done for him countless times and he doesn’t return the favour as often as he’d want to because your massages are heavenly and he can barely get up after.

“Yes please,” you lie down on your stomach, “But don’t stand on me.” You both chuckle.

Your massages consist of kneeling or standing on Peter’s back. It sounds painful but to him it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. He doesn’t just like your weight on his lap, he likes you on top of him in various scenarios.

He’s kneading your shoulders for about a minute when you suddenly sit up, “Okay, the break is over, can you eat me out now?”

A smile spreads over Peter’s face and you kiss him, a similar expression on your lips.

You get comfortable on your back and pull your shirt over your head and slip out of your skirt.

Peter sits between your legs, speechless, thumb rubbing over the large wet spot on your panties. You gasp when he touches you there but Peter can’t continue before showing you how much he loves your tits first. They're perfect.

He kisses his way up your stomach, inching further up until your nipple is in his mouth and your hand goes into his hair. He gets lost in the feeling of one of your boobs in his hand and the other one against his tongue until you push his head away.

He worries he’s hurt you but you whimper and spread your legs, pulling them up against your chest, “Please,” is all you can manage to say. Peter’s hands wander down your sides and between your legs, his fingers gliding over your panties.

Peter drags your underwear down your legs slowly, a string of your arousal staying connected to your panties momentarily. He licks his lips and kneels in front of the bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress.

With your legs on his shoulders, Peter kisses your clit once, watching as your eyes flutter shut. He’s forgetting that this is your first time too, so your expectations probably aren’t too high. And you’re wet from your earlier orgasm and it seems to be doing wonders for you; you already start arching your back when Peter licks up and down your clit a few times.

He savours the taste of you on his tongue, sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted, and knowing that he’s tasting you because you’re wet for him makes things even better.

As he plays with your clit, his tongue in your pussy, he puts a hand on your stomach. It’s just because he doesn’t know where else to put his hand, but you grab some of his fingers, holding his hand and Peter’s convinced his eyes must be shaped like hearts right now. He’s always loved holding hands with you.

He makes out with your pussy, your juices all over his mouth, and he starts sucking your clit.

“Peter..” your voice comes out as a whimper and you grip his hand harder. You arch further into him and your eyes squeeze shut, and Peter can tell you’re coming – on his tongue, with his face between your legs, just like he’s imagined so many times but it’s so much better than what he ever could have wished for.

He only pulls his mouth away from you slowly, not wanting the moment to end. You don’t let go of his hand, instead using your intertwined fingers to pull him up so Peter can kiss you. 

You hug him like you never want to let him go again and Peter gladly complies. He wraps his arms around you and lies on top of you for as long as you’ll have him.

“I’m too tired to return the favour,” you say after a while.

“That’s okay. I just wanted to make you feel good.” 

He’s glad you said it because then you won’t need to find out that he came in his pants ages ago, yet again, and you don’t need to be reminded of what a loser your boyfriend can be and how you’re the opposite.

Peter lifts his head so you’re looking at each other, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him on the lips a few times.

“I’m getting cold,” you say.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

You smile and kiss his forehead, “I should get dressed. And I need to pee. But you can cuddle me again after.” Peter gets up and scoops you up in his arms, earning a squeal from you.

He carries you to the bathroom and even though he’s completely dressed and you’re naked and vulnerable, he can tell you’re content and comfortable by the way you drop your head to his shoulder and let him hold you.

You’re in the bathroom while gets the clothes you asked him to get from your room, but he changes first so he’s not walking around the student accommodation with a mess in his pants.

You’re sitting on the bed in all your naked glory when he gets back. He stares for a second, smiling softly as he realises how lucky he is to get to see you like this, that he’s the only one in the world who does and that you want him to see you like this.

It’s later in the night and you’re in bed, you sitting on top of Peter, kissing him. It’s not sexual; you’re enjoying each other’s company, touching each other, locking lips over and over and over. Peter couldn’t be happier. There’s a smile on his face the whole time.

“I like kissing you. Like a lot,” you say.

“I love kissing you.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna be my boy—”

“Girlfriend? Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He interrupts you, somewhat surprised.

You grin and throw your arms around him, “Yes.”

“Sorry, I wanted to say it. After you made the first move I wanted to do this.”

“Everything okay?” You ask, realising he’s not telling you everything simply by looking at him.

“Well I don’t know, I kind of thought we were together already,” he says and your face softens.

“Oh. I mean we may as well have been. But we never properly talked about it. And just now I realised how sad I was that I couldn't officially call you my boyfriend, so I wanted to make sure that I could.”

“You’re right, now we have talked about it. And now it’s official. The most beautiful woman in the world is officially my girlfriend,” he beams as he cups your cheek and kisses you again. 

You lie down next to him, his arm around you as you cuddle into his side.

After a few moments of looking at Peter, you start giggling, as if you just remembered something funny or embarrassing about him.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing just, I’m so into you, and you really weren’t sure if I liked you? I know we‘ve talked about how we were both too scared to ruin the friendship but we were both idiots. 

“I mean, I tried to give you the boldest, most obvious signs. I kept holding your hand, talked about me getting off. I changed in front of you, slept next to you half-naked? Peter, I said I’d suck your dick.”

“Yeah but it was only in relation to you sucking professor Garfield’s dick for a better mark.”

“Knowing me, do you think I’d really suck a professor’s dick to get a better score?”

He shrugs, “Well, not when you say it like that, no. But we didn’t know each other that well yet. And hearing the girl you like say she’ll suck another guy’s dick isn’t nice regardless of if she’s being serious or not.”

You pout and cup his face, kissing him a few times, “I only want your dick, promise.”

“And my dick only wants you,” he says, earning a small laugh from you.

“But seriously, I contemplated peeing while you were in the bathroom with me at that party. If there was an obvious sign that I liked you, it would be that,” you joke.

“Just so you know, you can pee in front of me. And as long as you’re okay with that, I’d also feel comfortable peeing in front of you.”

You scrunch up your face, “We’ll avoid it if we can.” You both laugh but you know it would be no big deal and you’d be comfortable with it. It sounds like a weird thing to bond over, but Peter thinks it’s sweet.

“Anyway, I know I brought it up but can we stop talking about peeing so you can go down on me again?”

Peter’s eyes light up, “Yes, yesyesyes,” and he starts kissing down your body.

*

“So,” Peter asks you a few days later, “You know how you said your sex toy is supposed to feel like oral sex? So who’s better? Me or the vibrator?”

You give him an exaggerated pout and scoot closer to him on the bed, ”Don’t make me hurt your feelings.”

You’ve just come back from a date Peter planned. You got take-out from your favourite restaurant and ate it next to the river that goes through the city. You walked for hours, holding hands, talking, getting ice cream and just being with each other.

While Peter loves going out with you, he’s not sure if anything can beat spending time alone with you, in your bed, utterly comfortable and being nothing but yourself. Not to mention that you two can have sex whenever you want to.

“I don’t mind if you say it’s the vibrator, I mean it’s made for making you feel good and I’m just some guy,” Peter says, “It’s literally called a clit-sucker.”

“Sex with you is better but if you’re comparing the toy with you sucking my clit, then the vibrator is better, yes,” you move to his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his head.

“Can I use it on you?”

You bite your lip when he says it, “There’s not much you can do, you just hold it against my clit.”

“I’d love to do that.”

You grin and start kissing him.

He flips you around so you’re under him. He slowly takes off all your clothes and you pull off his shirt. He can’t resist getting a taste of you before he starts, humming as he begins eating you out, tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit.

You whine when he stops but you both remember that you wanted to use your toy. He kisses his way up your body, your arousal on his lips.

“You’re so hot, I don’t know if I deserve you,” he whispers into your skin as he’s kissing your belly. You tug him up to you to kiss him with such intensity that tells him he deserves you, all of you. You’re made for each other. And you feel it too.

You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out your vibrator. Peter smiles as he spreads your legs and lies down between them.

“Like this?” He turns it on and you adjust the setting, lying back when Peter presses a kiss on your clit and places the toy on your pussy.

You put your hand over his, shifting it so it’s in the perfect place. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and rests his cheek against your other thigh, occasionally kissing the skin there. He brings his arm over your body, smoothing his hand over your tummy and grabbing one of your tits, playing with your nipple.

Your hands absentmindedly find his hair, burying your fingers in it as he tells you how pretty you are and how he wants you to cum.

You glance at Peter between your legs, smiling and laying your head back down on the pillow. A few moments later he notices your breathing changing and how your hips slightly buck up.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, your back arching, and Peter puts his hand over your lower belly to keep you down. Your hand tightens in his hair as frantic breaths and strangled sounds leave your mouth, not able to form any coherent sentence.

After a few seconds, Peter wants to pull the toy away, thinking you’re done, but you hold his hand in place until your legs shake and he feels your belly convulsing under his hand. You’re coming until your head drops to the side and you let go of both his hair and his hand so he pulls away the vibrator.

“Oh–God. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Sorry if I hurt you,” your hand goes through his hair once more but he kisses your hand instead, “Don’t worry.”

You let your head fall back, your eyes not leaving Peter. The way you’re looking at him is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there, but he takes your hand and kisses you instead.

You wrap your legs around Peter’s waist and pull him as close as you can, “Can we go all the way? I feel so empty, I need you inside of me.”

Peter gulps at your words, pulling his hips away from yours so he doesn’t finish before you’ve even started. “Are you sure? Last week you said you wanted to wait.”

“Yeah, I am. I thought it would take me longer to be comfortable around you when I’m naked but I feel so good, and I like being naked in front of you. I like how you look at me and how it makes me feel,” you smile softly and kiss him.

“I like having you naked in front of me too.”

“I know, that’s why I’m so comfortable. And the fact that I want this so quickly shows me that it’s the right thing and also I just really really need you inside of me.”

“Oh my god,” he whispers, closing his eyes to refocus, “I have to get the condoms.”

“Make sure to hide this first,” your hands go to the front of his sweatpants and he playfully narrows his eyes at you because you know exactly that what you’re doing is not helping his situation.

After another kiss from you, he manages to pull himself away from you and hides his hardness as well as he can. He slips back into his shirt and runs to his room to get the condoms you two bought the other week just so you’d have them.

When he comes back you already have your fingers between your legs, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t apologise, baby,” Peter says before taking off his clothes in record time and joining you on the bed. 

You make out for a few minutes, forgetting everything else. His fingers wander to your pussy, playing with your clit until you can’t keep kissing him anymore, distracted by the pleasure.

He slips one finger into your pussy first, then two.

“Peter, it’s not enough,” you moan with a desperation in your voice that makes him even harder which, up to this point, felt impossible.

“‘M just checking you can take it, get you used to having something inside of you.”

You sigh into his mouth and give him the dirtiest kiss you ever have. “Just so you know.. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he warns you, afraid of disappointing you.

“I don’t care, I just need you right now.”

“What if I cum immediately once I’m in you?”

You hold his face in your hands, “Fuck, Pete, that’s so hot. I want you to cum inside of me.”

“Don’t say that because I will.”

“Please, please, I’m ready,” you whisper.

“Wait, you mean with a condom right?”

You laugh and nod, kissing him on the nose.

“Okay, just checking,” he says, putting on the condom. 

You hold on to his neck as he lines himself up with you, feeling how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, making sure you’re okay once he’s inside of you completely, “You okay?”

“Yeah, it feels even bigger inside of me.”

He blushes at you calling his dick big and runs a hand down your cheek, “Should I pull out?”

“No, no. Just give me a second.” 

You both take deep breaths once Peter starts rubbing your clit – you because you’re relaxing, Peter because he’s about to cum if he doesn’t focus.

He has you coming around his dick quickly. You press your chest against Peter’s when your back arches from the pleasure and you kiss the side of his face when you’re coming down from the high.

“Lift me up,” you tell him and you end up pushing Peter down on the bed, straddling his lap.

You place your hands on either side of Peter’s head, leaving him with your tits right in his face. You tell him to fuck you and with his hands on your hips, Peter slowly thrusts into you from below.

Your pussy squeezes him so tight, and you’re so warm, “Fuck, you feel so so good,” he groans. 

You start bouncing on him, meeting his thrusts halfway, now more used to him inside of you.

He closes his eyes, trying to think of something else but your quiet moans and your earlier words about wanting him to cum in you make him orgasm after a few more seconds.

He fucks you until he’s too exhausted to move and you grin down at him, both of you lying down to cuddle. 

You don’t say anything for a few minutes, both exhausted and content, only grinning at each other and occasionally giving the other a lazy kiss before you sit up on him again, your nipples right in front of his mouth.

He takes the opportunity to run his tongue around one, but you lean back, dazed, “No, no, you’ll make me horny again,” you smile, “And I don’t think I can take another orgasm right now.”

He kisses your sternum instead and picks you up in his arms so you can take a shower together.

Peter washes your body for you, taking his time to massage every part of you for a few seconds. He wants to spoil and pamper you and take as much work off your hands as he can. He knows you’d do the same for him.

Once you’re both clean, you stand under the water for a while, Peter’s arms around your waist, your back pulled to his chest. Your breathing is calm and your eyes are closed, completely relaxed against Peter.

“I came in here once,” Peter interrupts the silence.

You slowly open your eyes and turn around to face him, a smile making its way onto your face before it turns into a laugh, “What?”

“It was after that night when I got really drunk. I woke up with this perfect ass right against my crotch,” he squeezes one of your ass cheeks for emphasis. 

“You mean back when we were just friends?” You ask, pulling his arms around your body again, “That feels so long ago.”

“And at the same time like it was yesterday.” “Yeah,” you smile, “I probably would have helped you out if you’d asked.”

“Really?”

“I was already into you then and there’s no way I would have been able to–or wanted to–resist if I found out you were horny because of me. I was coming on my vibrator three times a day wishing it was you instead.”

Peter runs a hand over his face, remembering how scared he was that you’d never like him back, “I was wishing it was me too. I heard you that one time, when you were masturbating while I was waiting for you in there,” he nods his head towards the door to your room.

“You can’t blame me, you saw how that thing makes me cum,” you lean your head on his shoulder, hiding your embarrassment.

The moment you look down and see that Peter’s hard again, he stiffens even more.

“You’re getting harder from me looking at your dick?” You ask, licking your lips.

He nods, putting a hand around the back of your neck and gently pulling you towards him, kissing you to distract you from the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

While your teeth tug at Peter’s bottom lip, your hands smooth down his chest, over his faint happy trail and eventually you wrap your hand around his cock. He gasps at the first contact and opens his eyes, meeting your lust-filled gaze, “I can’t believe I haven’t done this before,” you say, starting to jerk him off with a slightly unsure look on your face.

“Is this okay?” You ask and Peter nods, “Show me how you do it,” you urge, lifting Peter’s hand to wrap it around your own.

With a firm grip, Peter guides your hand, “F-fuck,” is all he can manage to get out apart from a shaky breath. Your free hand runs across his chest, occasionally rubbing over his nipples, making him gasp. 

“I really need you to cum for me right now,” you whisper, looking down at your hand sliding up and down his dick. Your words make him groan and before he can prepare, waves of pleasure flow through him, his cum splashing all over your tummy. He can’t stop coming, especially not when you angle his cock further towards you, your belly now covered in him.

“Fuck,” you both moan at the same time and then you smile at each other. You step away from the spray of the shower, sliding a finger across your skin and sucking it into your mouth.

If he hadn’t already cum three times today, Peter would be hard in half a second. He shakes his head in disbelief, not sure what he did to ever deserve a girlfriend as sexy as you. He runs his thumb over your belly, picking up the rest of his cum on you and you open your mouth before he even asks you to.

He pushes it into your mouth slowly and you hum as he does it. Grabbing your face right after, he kisses you until neither of you can breathe. “Can I eat you out again now?”

You grin immediately, “Yes, but I’m tired.”

After you’ve dried off, he carries you to your bed, making sure you’re comfortable on it before his mouth disappears between your legs. He’s proud of how you grip his hair, grinding your pussy against his face and how you cum on his tongue.

He gets a notification on his phone just as he’s done kissing you after he made you cum. He ordered some food before you two went in the shower and it’s about to arrive.

“Go and get it, I can wait,” you tell him, but he makes sure to kiss your forehead and give you water and baby wipes before pulling on some clothes and rushing downstairs to get the food.

You eat it on your bed with a towel laid down to make sure nothing gets dirty. Peter likes how you randomly grab his hand while you’re eating or asking him to pass you your drink.

With some quiet music playing, you make yourselves comfortable in your bed, cuddling.

“Thank you,” you say, looking at him like he’s responsible for all good in the world.

“For what?”

“For everything. For taking care of me. For being you,” you slide your fingers between his. He picks up your intertwined hands and kisses yours, “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for being you, and for being with me.”

“There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with,” you lean over to kiss him, leaving your lips on his for a few seconds. “This white shirt looks so good on you, it’s my favourite,” you tell him, smoothing down the material and then resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you tight, “You know what looks even better on me?”

“Me?” You ask, already knowing what Peter is going to say and he adores you for it.

“Yes,” he smiles, “You.”

“I like this position, I like hearing your heart beating so clearly,” you say, nuzzling up against him.

“And I like that I can feel a heartbeat as soon as I put my hand here,” Peter smirks, sliding a hand between your legs and immediately feeling the pulsating warmth, even through your panties.

“Don’t blame me for getting turned on when the man I love touches my pussy,” you say, grabbing Peter’s hand into yours and away from your underwear to stop you from getting horny.

It takes both of you a second to realise that you just said that you love him. Probably because you’ve both felt it for a while; first as friends, then as lovers. Even if no one’s said it yet, it was obvious.

“I love you too,” he says softly and that’s when you realise what you just said. You turn towards him and start grinning, meeting Peter’s own wide smile. You start littering his face with kisses until he holds your face in place to kiss your lips. It’s like you melt right into his mouth once your lips touch his.

You spend the rest of the night telling each other that you love the other, giggling and cuddling and kissing until the early morning hours.

  *

Peter wants to sit through this lecture with you on his lap when you get to the lecture hall one minute before the lesson starts and there are no two seats free next to each other.

But you two promised yourselves that you weren’t going to be that annoying couple that has to be together at all times, so you two sit at opposite sides of the room.

Peter’s stomach tingles with jealousy when he sees that you’re sitting next to a guy you know. Brandon. Peter remembers him from the day you and Peter met. When it was Peter’s turn to tell an embarrassing sex story and he had nothing to say, you told Brandon to tell his story instead, distracting everyone and saving Peter.

He smiles when he thinks back to it; who knew that you two would end up in love?

But he hears your giggle through the entire lecture hall, over all the over murmuring, and Peter frowns. He knows it’s stupid if not wrong to be jealous about something so trivial. He’s more than okay with you having a male friend as long as he’s a good person; Peter’s happy about every nice friend you have.

But he’s spent the last few months getting to know you inside and out and you never mentioned Brandon. Now you’re talking to him like you’re best friends. Okay, the thing that bothers Peter the most is that you apparently knew Brandon’s sex story before he told it to the whole party.

Why were you talking to Brandon about sex? And why did you never mention it to Peter?

He knows you’ve done nothing wrong, and it’s ridiculous that he feels like this over a story and you laughing at another man’s jokes. If he was sitting next to you, he’s sure he’d be fine, but it doesn’t help that you’re out of reach.

He’s more curious than jealous, or that’s what he’s trying to tell himself, knowing he has no right to feel this way about such a little thing.

He tries to accept the feeling, tries to focus on what Professor Garfield is saying but throughout the whole lecture Brandon is in the back of Peter’s mind.

By the end of the lesson, he’s more mad than anything else – mad at himself for being jealous. He doesn't want to turn into one of those possessive, toxic and controlling boyfriends. He trusts you and he should be okay with you having dozens of male friends.

He waits for you by the door when the lecture is over, and in the sea of students you and Brandon leave the room separately. Peter’s so focussed on Brandon that he only notices you standing next to him once you hold his hand.

“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately. Peter didn’t know he was being that obvious.

He doesn’t want to drag you into his unnecessary jealousy and insecurity. “No-nothing,” he presses his lips together in a smile and you walk him into a quiet corner.

“What is it?” You sit down and pat the seat next to you for Peter to sit down.

“Well. I don’t know. It’s just, we usually sit together in this class and then we didn’t get to sit together and then you ended up next to a guy you know and I just…” It’s the shortened and less embarrassing version.

You smile, half with pity and half out of amusement, but he knows you’re not trying to make fun of him. “You were jealous? Of Brandon?”

“I don’t know. Kinda. I‘d honestly rather have you look at Andrew’s ass than have you talk to Brandon and giggle at everything he says and–like, I don’t even know him and I just felt insecure because I didn’t feel like I was a part of it,” he looks down, taking a deep breath, “Sorry, of course I don’t mean it like that. Obviously it’s fine if you have male friends. I was just wondering why you haven’t told me about him, because I remember him from the party the first time we met and I realised you never brought him up. And then I got so into my head about being jealous that I felt even worse and now I can’t even tell the jealousy from the being-mad-at-myself apart.”

“Okay, take my hand,” you say, “I love you. And-”

“I love you too,” Peter grins instantly, leaning over to kiss you.

“So, I didn’t tell you about Brandon because I wasn’t thinking about him. If he was important to me I would have introduced you two ages ago. I didn't even realise I was in this class until today. I met him the same night I met you and I was talking to a group of people before we played that game where he told that sex story. But wait.. Peter,” you furrow your eyebrows, “So you remember the story Brandon told?”

“I remember that he told a story, but I was too busy looking at you and being grateful that you helped me out of the situation.”

“Well, his story was about the first time he had sex with his boyfriend. And they’re still together.”

“Oh,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Now I feel even worse. Why was I so jealous about a guy who has a boyfriend?”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve been attached at the hip lately, so of course we're not used to being apart. I’m sure we’ll get used to it in a few days. But you’re jealous for the first time and we’re already talking about it, I’m sure we’ll sort it out. I promise we’ll work it out together.”

He pecks your lips again, “Thank you. I think I was way more surprised about my jealousy than actually being jealous. I trust you and I love you and I do that more and more every day. It’s just that I want you so much that I assume every guy feels the same, because why wouldn’t they? Forgive me if I project that onto them and don’t trust them. But I trust you and that’s what matters and what I’ll try to rely on. I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of something small.”

“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you told me how you feel. You’re already not jealous anymore and you’re talking about it and working it out. That’s what matters. You recognise that it’s unreasonable but jealousy is a normal emotion.”

He gives you a small smile, already understanding himself better thanks to you. You’re right, jealousy is something everyone feels from time to time. He’ll learn how to deal with it, and now that he’s with you, feeling loved and appreciated, he can’t even imagine ever being jealous again. He can tell his love is reciprocated. He trusts you, and that’s all he needs.

You sit together for another while, smiling and saying goodbye when Professor Garfield walks past you. You wait until he’s turned around the corner to say, “Wait, what did you say about his ass earlier?”

Peter chuckles, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the first time we had this lesson you said something about how nice his ass is.”

“Oh, now I remember. But your ass is the only ass I wanna look at now, you know that?” 

“Really?”

“Really. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I was interested in anyone else’s ass.”

There’s a comfortable warmth in Peter’s chest at you calling him his boyfriend. He’ll always be happy to be that.

“Well,” he thinks out loud, “There are some guys with nice asses, I can’t deny that. But then we can both admire them, okay? Together.”

You laugh, “You’re so cute. Okay, I’ll let you know when I see a nice ass and we’ll appreciate it together.”

“Good,” Peter smiles, okay with you liking other people’s asses because, after all, those asses don’t have this great connection with you like he does. He’s so much to you than a person with a cute ass.

“But your ass is the nicest,” he adds.

“Thank you," you laugh and kiss his cheek.

You lean back on your hands and tilt your head towards your shoulder. This time Peter feels warmth rushing elsewhere.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about during the whole lesson?”

He nods.

“I was thinking,” you look around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear, “about how I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth.”

Peter’s heart starts beating twice as fast as it usually does, “My-my- my dick? In your- why would— do you want it to be in your mouth?”

“I do. I had a dream about it last night. And I was gonna wait until tonight to do it but maybe we should do it now to relax you.”

“I.. don’t know if relax is the right word,” he says.

“I’ll do it to show you that I only like you then. And because I really need you.”

Peter’s face falls, “No, shit, I have this class now… no, nevermind, let’s go to my room–”

“No, we said our education and college come first, and that we wouldn’t let our academic performance fall off because of each other.”

“Yeah but I didn’t know that that meant saying no to you…” he looks at his lap and back at you again. 

“To me sucking your dick?” You’re teasing him on purpose now but despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants he’s enjoying it.

“Y-yeah..”

“Go to your class now and I’ll see you tonight,” you kiss him and get up.

“No wait–”

“Bye, baby,” you call out and walk away.

A class has never lasted as long as Peter’s next class. He leaves his bunched up hoodie on his lap the whole time even though he’s cold in just the shirt he’s wearing.

After class, he runs home, going to his dorm room first but you’re not there so he rushes to your room instead. You open the door as if Peter hasn’t been suffering for the past two hours, giving him a quick kiss and sitting back down to read a book.

He gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, “Please. You can’t be serious right now. I need you.”

You pat the bed next to you and he lies down with a sigh, hoping to get your attention but you keep reading; maybe he can take a nap to make the time pass quicker. You pretend to read for another minute or two and then grin at Peter and straddle him, starting to kiss him. 

“Sorry, I thought it would be fun to tease you but I don’t know what I was thinking. I really want you.”

He’s panting into your mouth after a few moments, already feeling relief as you pull at his belt, taking off Peter’s pants and your and his shirt.

“Let me know uh, how I’m doing,” you say as you get down on your knees in front of the bed.

Your words clear Peter’s mind for a second and he leans down to give you a kiss, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, by the way.”

You shake your head, “No, I really want to. I just don’t know what to do, so, be patient with me.”

“Always,” he reaches for your hand to kiss it, “So I guess you just– oh my god.” He moans as your mouth wraps around him, all wet and warm.

He makes the mistake of looking at you, the head of his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips against his skin, eyes big and gorgeous and so innocent. He’s close so quickly and motions for you to stop.

“Everything okay?” You ask, already knowing what’s going on though. Peter’s eyes go to your chest, perfect tits pushed together by a pretty bra. If you take that off he doesn’t want to know how fast he’ll cum.

“Yes, more than okay. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I do, but Peter, this is torture for me,” you say seriously.

“What?” He sits up straighter.

“I wanna make you cum so so bad, please just let me, I don’t care how long you last.” You sound so horny that it makes Peter’s cock just that much harder in the way only happens when he’s with you, never when he’s alone.

“Okay. But try to go slow, I wanna enjoy it as long as I can.”

You smirk and he already knows you’ll give it your all, but while he wants to enjoy it as long as possible, he also really wants to cum.

You wrap a hand around him, slapping his dick against your tongue a few times, putting on a show for him. But once you wrap your lips around him, there’s no stopping you.

Peter’s skin glistens with a mixture of your spit and his precum and you keep taking him deeper and deeper until all of him disappears in your mouth. “Fuuuck,” he groans, huffing with a smile, accepting that he’s about to cum.

You start going faster, your wet mouth making a loud, obscene sound against his skin. Peter lies down on his back, barely able to keep his noises in.

“God– oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” his mouth falls open as he cranes his neck to look at you taking his dick. He puts a hand on your head, feeling your every movement up and down his cock.

He cums right down your throat as soon you start moaning, mouth stuffed full of Peter’s dick. You taste the first few drops and then jerk him off so his cum lands on your cheek and the sight is so dirty yet so beautiful.

You’re both panting when Peter is finished and you’re smiling at each other, in silent agreement that that was one of the hottest things you two have ever experienced. Your smile has something shy to it too, unsure how you look with Peter’s cum on your face.

But he’s looking at you with pure admiration, not believing how lucky he is for a bit before pulling you up to kiss you.

“Wait, Pete, you’ll get cu–”

“I don’t care.”

He kisses your mouth, and tasting himself on you is the sexiest thing in the world. He kisses his cum off your skin, connecting your lips afterwards, his tongue in your mouth until the cum is gone.

He wipes his mouth, asking something he’s been thinking about for a while, and he can’t go a second longer without it. “Do you wanna sit on my face?”

You’re taking off your clothes before the question even fully leaves his mouth and he takes in the sight of the prettiest woman alive getting undressed in front of him, for him.

He licks his lips when you slip out of your panties, the holy place between your legs shiny with arousal that’s started running down your thighs.

“You’re so wet.. from going down on me?” He asks, grabbing your thighs as you come closer, straddling him.

You simply nod and while you’re making your way up Peter’s body there’s a moment where your eyes meet for more than a few seconds. You don’t say anything, there’s just mutual appreciation and adoration for one another.

This is something good. Maybe it’s the best thing in the world. It is the best thing in the world.

“I love you,” he says, feeling so much more than those three simple words.

“I love you,” you say, your eyes holding such intensity that he doesn’t think there’s a single person in the world who has ever been as loved as Peter is by you.

He hopes he’s making you feel like the Goddess he sees you as, he adores every inch of you, all the things you’ve ever said to him and every second he’s spent with you.

The moment feels like it goes on forever, and at some point, you both move your heads towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss.

He grabs your ass, ready to drown in your pussy and to make you cum as many times as you want.

“Can I…?” You ask as you lower yourself. 

Peter pulls you towards his face and makes love to you all night. 

You spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms, feeling like the luckiest people on earth and you probably are.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #Peter Parker x you #Peter Parker x y/n #Spiderman x reader #Spiderman smut #peter parker fluff #fem!reader #college!Peter Parker #Peter Parker fanfiction #spider man: no way home #peter parker #tom holland #Peter Parker college au #peter parker friends to lovers

[batterygarden]

Train on a Train | ft. Aged up! Pro players! Seishiro Nagi, Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira and Hyoma Chigiri

18+ MDNI

cw: fem & afab reader, explicit 5-some/orgy/train running, reader wears a skirt & lace panties & has hair which is gripped once, "princess" and "baby" pet names used, established relationship w Nagi, you and Nagi get sorta slutted out tbh, nagiri featured, bachisagi sorta featured (less seriously), borderline dubcon bc they don't ask reader if she's cool w everything although she is (i'll tag it), "pussy anytime pass" cashed in by Nagi lmao, semi-public sex, peeping toms, cuckolding, penetrative sex, oral (f + m recieving), face fucking, cum eating, some mlm oral/hand job in there, mult. orgasms & creampies, overstimulation, a little pussy inspection, a little dacryphilia, took many liberties w this like don't think about it too hard a/n: This is the most ridiculous fic I've ever written and It's also really special to me, pls enjoy the absurdities! I'd like to clarify that the train car I'm imaging for it is like the one in the header image--this is a huge and magical train they're in, okay. They have lots of space; this train layout does not make sense and I personally have not been on a train w a setup like this but I’ve seen it on tv / in movies so like. lol u just have to roll w it ! pls interact if ur into it and wanna talk ab bllk w me!! sending kissies. Thx for betaing bbg @millionsknife wk: 5.7 k!

“You’re heartless.”

Nagi’s voice is so serious and deadpan that you break focus from your book, and watch as his typical apathetic frown meets his eyes for a moment in a way that could fool any stranger into worrying. 

But not you. He’s being subtle about it but you’re very familiar with Seishiro’s pouting routine—he’s upset you won’t surrender your phone for the last hour and a half of your train ride because somebody came unprepared with a low battery. His games were apparently more important than an ongoing text conversation with your friend!

“Am not, you big baby! Bring a charger next time.” 

You don’t respond when he mumbles something about there not even being outlets under his breath, immediately re-engrossed in your story, ignoring his squirming and sighs. 

You hear it when Nagi finally stills and drops his head against the window next to him, and he doesn’t even look at you when he speaks again.

“Whatever. ‘M using’ it now then.”

“You’re what?” 

“My pass,” he pauses to yawn. “My free pussy pass or whatever.” 

It takes you a second to even process his words. Then you wonder if he’s joking—sometimes with that blank-eyed stare it’s hard to tell. 

“Sei, we’re on a train…?” 

You didn’t think he’d use part of your valentines gift this way…truthfully you thought he’d forgotten about your little half-joke coupons you made him—he only ever cashed in the massage. He's never shown interest in public sex before… this is uncharted territory.

“Don’t care,” he sighs, his mouth twisting a little so his expression flashes mock sympathy.  He pats his upper thigh.

“Hop on soldier.”

You laugh for a second and his lips twitch before he narrows his eyes at your hesitance, pouting openly this time. 

“Come on. Was the pussy pass fake or something?” 

You have to hold back another giggle. “Say pussy pass one more time.” 

Your car’s door gets a lingering glance before you’re abandoning your book and phone, sliding carefully into his lap while he stares at you, looking deep in thought. You seize his pause as an opportunity to peck his lips—giving into him way too easily like always. You’re reminded of all your friends’ claims that you spoil him—suddenly certain they’re true when you feel his hands squeeze their way up your thighs till they’re under your skirt, the cool air hitting your ass in the middle of a public train. 

“Well what else ‘m I supposed to call it?” He leans his head back against the wall, getting comfy in his seat while he kneads your hips atop him, feeling that the fabric of your panties is lacy. 

You break your lips away from his neck where they’d drifted, glancing at the hall again before smiling at him.

“Just teasing. This is new though… will you watch the door? Otherwise I’ll be nervous.”

He nods for you, rubbing his thumbs reassuringly over your sides while his fingertips graze frilly straps.

He’s content just holding you like that a while longer, letting his eyelids droop while you work on his neck, but his fingers dig into your skin when he feels you bite. 

“ow. what’s that for?”

He brings a hand up to clasp over the newly forming bruise on his pulse, eyes a little widened. 

“A reminder to watch the door,” you say while you grind for the first time over his sweatpants, earning a sharp inhale. The real reason you sunk your teeth in is that Nagi’s annoying—about to get his dick ridden after throwing a tantrum over a phone battery. Classic Seishiro—everything comes too easy to him! 

You wanna give him a harder time, you really wanna get bratty, but the feeling of Nagi’s hard dick against your panties has your brain short circuiting—especially when you notice his cute dilated pupils before he grinds up to meet your hips. Somehow those eyes have you programmed to do anything he asks—anything that’d please him would please you just as much. 

So it’s after not long at all that your grinding turns rabid and you can’t wait any longer for him to be inside you. then you break away from his chest where you’d been clinging, hovering above him so you can take his cock out before spitting on it and giving a few impatient pumps. 

Nagi’s a mess by this point, his bedhead even more disheveled than before and his cheeks rosy, his lips and neck looking red and abused. But your hand around his dick obliterates the last of his composure, now he’s squirming and whining and letting his eyes squeeze shut—forgetting to watch the door!! 

You pause your stroking with a click of your tongue, pointing to the hallway when Nagi’s eyes open as a reminder. Then, in one practiced, fluid motion your panties are pulled to the side and Nagi’s stroked along your slit before sliding inside—stretching you open just right before you bottom out. 

You have to still for a moment when you do, feeling Nagi’s fingers claw into your hips while his skull thuds against the wall behind him. 

“Fuck.” 

You adore Seishiro’s pussy drunk voice, how breathy and tired it sounds—how needy he turns. It has you gushing around him, wrapping your arms around his neck and squishing your bodies together till neither of you can move. 

“Feel so good.” He whines, bucking into you on instinct, hitting your sweet spot with precision.

“Y-yeah?”

You love the eager way he nods in response—loving how Nagi seems to save whatever enthusiasm he has the energy to show for your pussy and your pussy only. 

You roll your hips for him, starting a nice and gentle and merciful pace because you wanna give him a false sense of security before you start bouncing the way you like. Which is ruthlessly—Nagi’s sensitive and you enjoy nothing more than the process of absolutely ruining him. 

The time you spend riding him slow and sweet ends sooner rather than later though; teasing Nagi is always a double-edged sword when you end up teasing yourself along with him. So it’s not long at all until the rock of your hips is interrupted and you’re letting your shoes slide to the ground, leaving just your socks while you shift your weight backwards onto your toes so you can use your feet to help you bounce hard the way you like. If Nagi was demanding train pussy, he’d have to take it how you want to give it. 

Nagi realizes your intentions just a moment too late before you’re moving, squeezing him tight and fast and knocking the wind from his lungs. 

He‘s never been great at censoring his moans—Seishiro can be dramatically vocal when he feels good, so you have to quickly silence him with your lips—swallowing every sound while he squirms like mad underneath you.

Every movement feels sweet—honestly, Nagi’s cock is maybe the most reliable thing about him—it never fails to hit exactly where it needs to. But if every movement is sweet for you, each slam of your hips is tooth rotting for seishiro—neither of you even notice the way his eyes are permanently closed in bliss—failing to watch your precious train door like he promised. He’s watching brain cells die behind his eyelids instead, his head turning fuzzy with each squeeze of your pussy—not even your lips can contain the volume of his whining. 

He’s close, you can feel it in the way he’s twitching inside you, and you’re not far behind him. So you keep your hips bouncing in a nice rhythm—clinging onto him while he does the same to you, his fingers clawing your sides before breaking away from your kiss to throw his head back—it knocks against the wall again but he doesn’t complain, only squeezes his eyes shut while he cries out from borderline overstimulation—cumming what feels like endlessly inside you. It’s entirely too much when you clamp down on him, throwing your head back too while you cum with him—leaving him whimpering and teary-eyed. 

“Fuuck s’too much, ba-wait I can’t—“

He’s cut off when you meet his lips again, riding out your high as gently as you can manage while Sei’s breaths slowly even out. Eventually his heavy eyelids peek open to find your head resting on his shoulder, looking up at his face. 

Lovey little smiles are exchanged when your gazes meet—and you feel like your chest might explode from how heartfelt the moment suddenly feels as Nagi holds you close and you hold him closer, shoving unruly white hair from his eyes for him. 

“Did you get good use out of your coupon, Sei?” You wonder with a teasing tone, tracing a finger along his shirt collar while he yawns, nodding. He looks like he’s about to say more, but it’s then that his eyes finally spare a glance for the aforementioned car door…

Where he finds Isagi, Chigiri and Bachira staring wide-eyed. Their expressions are varied from bachira’s amused little smile, playing with a red sucker between his lips, to Isagi’s tongue-in-cheek, brow-raised stare. Then there’s Chigiri—mouth slightly parted, eyes empty and his cheeks flushed. Nagi’s never seen that man blush before. 

Nagi jumps the moment he notices them, before cursing under his breath, digging a knuckle into his eyes while he turns his head away. 

You freeze at his actions—quick to gather that someone must have seen you but instantly too mortified to check the window and see who it was. 

Japan’s team had rented out your section of the train for their next game so best case-scenario it was someone chill that you weren’t close with, maybe Hiori or Kurona, worst case-scenario it was Jinpachi Ego.

You don’t have the chance to speculate for long, because next thing you know, the door is sliding open and there’s more than one set of footsteps marching into your little train car. And you’re still stuffed full of Seishiro’s cock and you wanna cry. 

You’re too frozen in embarrassment to move until you hear Nagi sigh, “This is so annoying—you guys are perverts, you know. Can’t you give a little privacy?” 

He’s talking like it’s his friends standing behind you—the fact has you involuntarily clamping on him while you finally turn to check, clamping down again when Bachira waves at you and Isagi smiles all friendly. Seishiro squeezes your thigh when he feels you, groaning so quiet under his breath that you hope none of them can hear. 

“We’re the perverts? You just got fucked in a public train with your teammates on the other side of the wall. It’s lucky it was us who heard you ‘n not our esteemed coach, don’t you think?” 

It makes your head spin just hearing Isagi’s patronizing tone, but glancing at his expression makes you feel even stickier, his head tilted in faux concern and then his widened grin when you turn to meet his eyes. 

You can’t help but find the look he gives you sort of… hot—you’d be lying if you said this whole situation wasn’t turning you on in some sick and twisted way. And Seishiro’s certainly handling it more calmly than you think most boyfriends would, letting the room fall quiet after Isagi speaks, his cheeks turning the faintest pink when he finally drops his eyes back down to you. 

Another second of quiet and it would have been too uncomfortable to bear, but, unsurprisingly, Bachira breaks the silence. 

He seems even less bothered by the car’s thick atmosphere than Isagi is, as he closes the gap to sit beside nagi, resting an elbow on his shoulder before pulling the sucker from his mouth with a pop. Where it felt like Isagi was only speaking to Nagi, Bachira seems to make you his sole focus when he asks, “think you can cum again, princess? Didn’t get a good view of your face the first time and I bet you’ll look soo pretty.” 

You manage to grow even hotter at those words, you have to drop a cheek against Nagi to cool it, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from Bachira’s expression—it’s teasing and playful in a way that makes your insides fuzzy. 

Before you can reply, you hear Isagi mumble from behind you, “bet you’ll feel so pretty too,” and with that you can’t hold back any longer from grinding down on sei’s quickly-hardened cock—trying to be as subtle as possible but unable to stop yourself—the lack of friction had been turning torturous. 

And of course Nagi moans, all soft and sweet for you, gripping your hips before bucking upwards, his subtlety leaving much to be desired. 

Something in the room shifts then, or maybe the tension breaks—at least for you. You’ve given up hiding how horny you still are.

Witnesses somehow only manage to turn you on more, the extra eyes make you feel desired, especially when you peek to see Bachira’s brows raised—he’s smiling, dimples out and everything, while his gaze falls to the edge of your skirt and your curled legs next to his. It takes minutes for you to be on the brink of cumming again, Isagi and Bachira only spurring you on with filthy words—

“Aww are you gonna get yourself off on Nagi again? Think I could make you feel even better.” 

“Poor Sei’s gonna have an aneurysm, are you sure he can handle your little pussy for another round? Maybe you should give me a turn.” 

Nagi can only pant and whine and take it beneath you—so drunk on your pussy he’s brain dead--the taunting from his teammates hardly even registers. Isagi’s quick to point out how gone he is from his seat across from you and when he does, Bachira’s giggling, brushing the sweaty hair from Nagi’s forehead and murmuring,

“If you don’t open your eyes, you’re gonna miss how cute your girlfriend looks while she fucks you.” 

Isagi adds, “bet she can look even cuter. Megs you wanna take her shirt off? Looks like she isn't even wearing a bra.” 

You’re so caught up in how it feels and how they sound that you don’t even notice till then that their cocks are out, stroked in their hands while you entertain them, leaving them panting softly between words. When you turn and look you notice that even Chigiri, who you’ve barely ever spoken with before, is groaning and palming himself through his shorts next to Isagi. 

You’re on the brink of cumming and you sense Nagi is there with you—so preoccupied with how it feels that you barely notice Bachira tugging your shirt over your head, his sucker forgotten in its wrapper, till the cool air hits your nipples and you feel them hardening.You hear Isagi moan at the sight before you’re toppling over the edge again, spasming on Seishiro, feeling the burning gaze of the three around you while Bachira rubs your back. Nagi can’t help but cream inside you at the same time, twitching and whining—by the time he’s done you're exhausted. 

The absurdity of the situation properly registers then, leaving you warm and embarrassed, but you aren’t done. Somehow you know you aren’t from the way Isagi’s eyes have been scorching your back. He doesn’t give you time to rest before he’s taking your hand in his, guiding you off of Nagi while you’re still pliant and stupid from cumming so hard. 

All eyes are immediately fixed on how he spills out of you, white dripping down your thigh all the way to your knee when you stand. 

“Sheesh Sei, look how messy you made her,” Bachira says, before he’s swiping cum off your leg and sucking it off his fingers. Your head spins. You feel like you must be dreaming. 

“Sweet. You’re sweet, Sei, did y’know that?”

Seishiro’s brain’s still mush, his head resting lifelessly against the wall, but he manages to roll his face toward Bachira to glance at him, humming a no. 

Bachira gets a glint in his eye when he turns to Chigiri, zoned out on Nagi’s face from the corner, and asks him “d’you wanna try, Chigiri? Ever tasted sweet cum before?” 

Chigiri’s instantly pink, shaking his head almost shyly. You don’t expect it when you feel his long fingers glide up your inner thigh, dipping into your pussy before he takes them away to lick clean. 

He speaks for the first time, 

“You are sweet, Nagi.” 

You think you see Nagi make a lazy little smile at that before you’re being molded by Isagi, onto your hands and knees across the leather seats that Chigiri’s sitting on. Your face is met with Chigiri’s massive bulge while Isagi gets positioned behind you, rubbing warm hands under your skirt to push it all the way up to your abdomen, leaving only your little lace panties that are stretched in the crotch and soaked. 

“Gonna take her face, Hyoma?” Isagi asks while his fingers trace the frilly straps, sliding his way under them to rub your bare hips. 

You take the time he spends inching the fabric lower to try and wrap your brain around Yoichi Isagi—the man who’s likely your closest friend on the team aside from Nagi. He’s always kept the atmosphere light and friendly when you’re involved—cracking jokes and relishing in your giggles, he’s always very kind and welcoming. It’s true you’ve always thought he was kinda cute—and it was clear those feelings were returned from the way he flirted with you, but you always assumed he was just laying your special treatment on a extra thick to fuck with Nagi. You didn’t expect he’d ever really be in your panties, that's for sure. But now he’s crossing the point of no return, helping slide them off completely and likely altering your dynamic permanently. Ah well… you don’t feel the motivation to stop him. 

Chigiri breaks you out of your thoughts when he finally answers,

“Bachira can go first, he’s staring like a hungry animal right now.” 

Bachira doesn’t need any further permission than that before he’s swapped spots with Chigiri, kneeling sideways on the seat so his cock is in your face—red and thick and leaking. You almost put him in your mouth immediately on instinct but then you’re glancing at Nagi on the bench across from you, gauging how he feels about this whole thing. He’s never been the jealous type, but talking to other men and sucking their dicks usually warrants different reactions. 

He’s still looking exhausted but you notice right away his dick is somehow still hard- or maybe hard again. The corner of his mouth lifts a little when you meet his eyes, then lifts even more when he glances a few times between your face and Bachira’s cock.

His expression is confirmation enough, and next thing you know you’re licking up the pre that’s dripping down Bachira’s tip, squealing a bit when you feel Isagi run his fingers through your sensitive pussy at the same time, fingering you with his middle and ring finger till he has enough cum on his hand to rub his cock with, getting himself ready for you. The anticipation has you quickly struggling to focus on Bachira, licking him sloppily from base to tip a few times till he’s impatient.

“No, princess, it goes in your mouth.” 

Bachira puts a thumb between your lips and gently pulls them open, guiding himself inside while you look up into his eyes. He looks… mischievous—his expression has your heart thumping unevenly, reminding you of how he looks when he plays soccer. And once his tip’s at the back of your mouth, his condescending smile gets even wider while he lets out a breathy groan, holding your eyes shamelessly while your tongue swirls around him, eventually glancing behind you at Isagi, who’s positioned his tip at your entrance.

You whine on Bachira’s dick when Isagi starts easing his way in, the new angle dragging against new places inside you, and Bachira furrows his brows at the feeling, twitching forward before holding himself back. 

“Mmm I think ‘m gonna have to fuck your face.”

Nagi’s never done that before. 

Your expression must show your hesitance because Bachira’s quickly stroking your head, trying but not quite succeeding in reassuring you all will be well while he looks behind you some more—eyeing Isagi who’s bottomed out inside you. 

“It’ll be okay. Isagi and I’d only take the best care of Nagi’s sweet little girlfriend.” He says in a singsong voice, slowly easing his way deeper in your mouth. 

“Wouldn’t give you anything you couldn’t take. I know you can handle us both, princess,” you hear Isagi add from behind while he rubs your lower back and sides. 

You’re just thinking whatever they’re gonna do to you, they better do it fast because you can’t stand another moment without movement. So you answer them with a whine that’s meant to be encouraging.

From the sidelines of every game—especially as a non-soccer player, Isagi and Bachira’s relationship always appears… complicated. The way Nagi tells it, they used to often work as a unit, as a team even in blue lock, kinda like Nagi used to be with Reo. But… things got competitive. They’re friends, Nagi always says they're friends and they act like it off the field, but their dynamic always feels to you like it has a hidden layer most people are missing—whether it be rivalry or jealousy or maybe even some form of… infatuation. 

And maybe it’s that hidden connection they hold that has them so in sync when suddenly, with no word or trigger you can perceive, Bachira and Isagi thrust out and in, beginning a steady matching pace while they fuck your pussy and throat. You’re left gagging and drooling from the sensation—it’s overwhelming to be so completely full, but somehow you more than bear it—after a few thrusts it’s even satisfying and you’re moaning and taking it and fast approaching another orgasm. If your mind was already hazy from Seishiro, your thoughts are a thick fog by this point, cleared of anything but physical touch—your boyfriend watching you from a foot away getting his cock stroked by Hyoma goes completely unnoticed. 

Something you do come around for, though, is Bachira’s downright erotic panting growing louder by the second, paired with the bruising grip Isagi’s got latched around your waist that tightens with every stroke, eventually one of his hands lifting to link fingers with Megs. Their growing enthusiasm while they fuck you can only be perceived for a moment before you’re coming undone again, wave after wave of intense and all-consuming pleasure washing over you till you can’t keep your eyes open. You can’t hear or see by the peak of it, only feeling as two cocks drill and pound you harder than you’ve possibly ever experienced. You almost choke when suddenly Bachira’s creaming in your mouth towards the end, shooting ropes of hot cum down your throat but refusing to pull out so you have no choice but to swallow. It’s not long after that you feel heat flood your pussy too, filling you like a donut for the third time in the past hour. 

You almost collapse on the seat then, but luckily you’re caught around the middle by Isagi, who lays you down gently while he uses some mysterious cloth to mop up the mess between your legs—likely a shirt from Nagi’s backpack.  

You’re a wreck by this point, but feeling thoroughly satisfied as you lay and let your eyes adjust to the scene around you, one that involves Chigiri kneeling in front of your boyfriend and sucking him completely dry while Seishiro buries his face in the crook of his arms, squirming the way you know he does when he’s about to cum. He moves his arms towards the end to glance at Chigiri, then he’s meeting eyes with you, and his expression morphs into one of his rare, adoring faces.

He moves his mouth like he’s about to say your name but then he’s cumming again, his nose wrinkling all cute while his hands go to Chigiri’s hair, holding it from his face while Chigiri’s head bobs at a steady rhythm. Eventually Nagi’s pulling Chigiri off, using his hair like a handlebar and whining “s’too much Hyoma, s’enough...” 

…

Seishiro… your boyfriend… you just watched him get his dick sucked by his teammate. The scene of it all has you reeling because- how should you feel about that? Not mad—certainly not when you just got fucked by two cocks at once before his eyes and liked it. But is it okay that the image had you feeling… good? That you’re turned on by the thought of Nagi’s teammates taking good care of him—especially the idea that they might when you’re not even there. As a matter of fact you hope Nagi’s friends suck his dick for him when you can’t make it to a faraway game, you’d be more worried if he wasn’t being doted on by someone in your place—that realization has you surprised with yourself. 

When he finally opens his eyes after coming down from his high, you’ve scooted back to his bench next to him, hugging yourself to his side and smoothing the bangs from his forehead before dotting his face in light kisses. 

“Did that feel good?” Your voice sounds like an angel.

He nods, his eyelids even heavier than before, wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you against his chest, cheek falling against your head. 

Hyoma, who’d sunk against Nagi’s other side chuckles lightly, mumbling a soft “I’m glad,” while adjusting the front of his shorts. 

Seishiro’s sitting like his body is heavy, his boxers lazily tucked over his dick so even his clothes make him look thoroughly ran through. Still, he finds the energy to lift his head and look pointedly at Chigiri and his apparent boner, pursing his lips like he’s debating something.

Chigiri’s voice is breathy and seductive when he asks “Wanna help me out, Sei?” 

The nickname sounds almost out of place spoken from Hyoma’s lips, you get the feeling he’s only ever referred to Nagi by his surname up until now. It honestly makes your thighs rub together thinking about their newfound closeness. 

You watch as Seishiro nods for him, spitting in his hand once Chigiri finally takes his cock out. 

You have to work to pick your jaw up off the floor when he does—who would have expected that Hyoma Chigiri’s absolutely hung. His cock is blushing and pretty and huge—precum spilling from its tip once Nagi carefully wraps a hand around its base, stroking testingly. 

Chigiri moans the kind of moan you knew he’d make—one that’s pretty like the rest of him, wrapping a hand around Nagi’s to squeeze himself tighter. 

“‘Sagi, you should do that to me,” your eyes follow Bachira’s voice across from you, him and Isagi seem to be fighting over who can manspread the most on the bench space. You notice Isagi’s eyes lingering on you, curled against Nagi with just your sorry excuse for a skirt still on—it’s riding up so high he’d see everything if you just opened your legs. 

“No fucking chance, Megs.” 

“Maybe if I beat you next one on one?” Bachira murmurs, a teasing tone to his words. 

Isagi ignores him, staring you down while he wets his lips, eventually meeting your gaze while a warm smile takes over his face. You notice then that he has another hard-on in his basketball shorts. 

“Hey princess, think you could give me head? We could give Hyoma somethin’ to watch? And I bet Bachira’d eat you out—he loves eating other guys’ cum.” 

Bachira throws a hard shove at Isagi’s shoulder that leaves Isagi wincing, but then he smiles at you all big and feral. 

“I am dying to taste that magic pussy of yours. Seems like it puts everybody in a trance.”

You know the logical answer would be to decline, you know your body is on the brink of collapse, but then Nagi’s looking down on you with his blank eyed stare, and his pupils are huge again. He pecks your forehead before whispering, 

“C’mon baby, give us somethin’ to watch.” 

Due to your Sei-pleasing programming, and the wetness between your legs Isagi’s eyes bring, you can’t say no. 

So you end up back on the Eiffel Tower bench, back on your hands and knees, but this time your skirt’s finally been removed and Isagi’s cock is by your face while Bachira kneels behind you, inspecting your swollen pussy. 

You shiver when you feel his warm fingers spread you apart, tracing your folds while his mouth waters, the atmosphere accentuated by Chigiri’s moans and sighs along with the gentle slaps from Nagi’s hand. 

You’re just placing the first kitten lick on Isagi’s tip when Bachira places both hands on your ass, spreading you open with his thumbs this time before finally licking a long stripe through your center. 

The feeling has your back arching, whining before you take Isagi fully in your mouth, letting him gag you while Bachira flattens his tongue against your clit. The room’s quickly filled with whining and moaning and heavy breathing—thankfully nobody seems to be in the car next door anymore because you’d be heard immediately. 

You should have known from the eccentric way Bachira acts to the fact his tongue’s lolling out of his mouth half that time that he’d be good at giving head—but somehow you didn’t anticipate how electric he’s making you feel, alternating fucking you with his tongue and suctioning under the hood of your clit—his every action feels intense. And he’s vocal too—slurping and groaning on you, his fingers almost certainly leaving bruises on the skin of your ass and upper thighs where he holds you open with an unyielding grip. 

The feeling Bachira’s tongue is giving you only transfers to Isagi’s dick, because you’re moaning on it—frantically taking him as deep as your throat can go as some kind of outlet for the hot pleasure you’re experiencing in your core. 

You’re not sure if somehow all of this fell under Isagi’s master plan, because he is fucking estatic—gripping the wall and your hair, perfectly dominating in his tone while he talks you through the whole thing. Using words like, “there you go, princess,” and “mmh think your mouth was made for my cock,” while moaning all deep and pretty in a way you didn’t expect. 

Every sense you have is sexually charged, and it takes almost no time for you to be coming undone again almost painfully this time. By now you’ve lost count how many orgasms you’ve been given, but this one stands out as the harshest—leaving you choking on Isagi while fat tears stream down your cheeks, your body twitching on Bachira’s unrelenting mouth. He licks up your release like a man starving—lapping deep inside you till your vision is spotty and you worry you’ll never be able to think straight again. 

You can hardly register the feeling of Isagi cumming in your mouth, swallowing everything he gives with empty-headed obedience. Isagi and Bachira catch you when you collapse this time, laying you gently on the bench so your head’s on Isagi’s lap, mumbling how they’re scared they might have put you in a coma when you don’t respond to their comments throughout the process. Your heartbeat’s too loud in your ears at first to register the sound that’s left is Chigiri, his panting and whining growing quick while Nagi jerks him off across from you.

Your hearing is finally clear again when he mumbles a broken, “gonna cum, Sei- fuck- where?” 

You watch Nagi glance around for a second at his backpack and your discarded clothes littering the floor before his stare lands on you, and his eyes soften a bit. 

“My girlfriend.”

“Sei-?”

“Inside her like everyone else.” Nagi’s tone is humorless—maybe a teense fond. 

At this point no action anyone around you takes could surprise you, so you spread your legs a little in your seat, flicking your gaze up at Hyoma’s furrowed expression. 

He hesitates much less than you would have expected, taking over for Nagi with a breathy sigh, his hand gliding up and down his own cock with loud wet slaps. 

Before you know it he’s standing and twisting your body diagonal so you’re leaning against Isagi’s chest, spreading your legs with one hand before kneeling to slide himself inside. You both wince when he enters, you from raw overstimulation and him from the squeeze—it only takes one pump before he’s cumming inside you—painting your insides with what feels like buckets of cum while his breaths come out in shaky moans, leaving you so full you’re leaking before he even pulls out. 

Everything’s sticky and exhausting after that, you feel like you need to sleep for days, but the train just announced it would be pulling into the station in 5 minutes. So, with the help of four sets of hands besides your own, and one of Nagi’s tee shirts that Isagi elected as a temporary cum rag, you redress yourself and are left sitting beside Nagi again, him leaning his head against the wall with frequent yawns and you sending an apologetic text to your friend for your lack of response. Nagi already had practice today but he has a dinner to attend before his big game tomorrow, one you were planning to accompany him to but you’re currently planning to forgo, hoping none of his teammates or coaches miss your absence. 

The early check-in to your hotel goes smoothly. You’re happy to get the chance to break in a fresh bed with a late nap, but once you arrive and go to shower, you finally notice something missing. You didn’t even realize with how sensitive and raw you were feeling between your legs, along with how used to nudity you’d grown accustomed in the past hour and half, but ever since your train ride soirée, it seems your panties have mysteriously vanished… 

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #isagi x you #isagi x reader #nagi x reader #bachira x reader #nagiri x reader #chigiri x you #chigiri x reader #bllk fic #blue lock fic #tw dubcon #bllk smut #tw dacryphilia #tw public sex

[sc0tters]

Not Gone For Long | Quinn Hughes

summary: you broke up with Quinn two weeks ago, but what happens when you two run into each other at a bar?

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.63K

authors note: I have had this idea in my head for literal hours icl but since I came up with it I’ve been dying to get it written. This is also my first attempt at writing an imagine for an NHL player, so I hope you like it!

Never go to bed angry with each other.

That was the first rule that you and Quinn made when you got together and neither one ever believed that if it was broken it would soon bring the end of the relationship, but it did.

The two of you had spent two months fighting before you finally mustered up the courage to pull the plug on the relationship when he was on a two week road trip with the team.

And with that three years of a relationship were sent down the drain.

You never thought that leaving him would be easy. You knew that it would be tough on your heart as he was everywhere you looked, on billboards, the TVs at bars, even on the insides of your eyelids when you attempted to sleep.

Your best friends were your total support system during the last two months as they made sure that you never had more than a few seconds to think about the boy that you loved obviously not counting your time in your bedroom because that’s where he seemed to attack your mind.

The apartment you once dreamed of before Quinn was now the place you called home. It was a one bed place but it was all you needed as you settled back into the mundane life.

Unbeknownst to you Quinn had been a total wreck from the moment he walked back into the apartment to see it in a shell of its former self. If it wasn’t for his teammates he would have knocked on every door in Vancouver until he found you, but when the boys reminded him that you had left when he was gone for a reason it made him want to stay home instead.

Quinn wanted to be mad at you for leaving in the way that you did yet the only thing that replayed through his mind was how the last thing he said to you was “see you soon,” no kiss, not even a hug, he just walked out of the apartment. Leaving you by yourself for the next two weeks.

The moment Ellen learnt about the break up she went was on the next flight over on a mission to comfort her son. That night he cried so hard that his lungs ached and his throat burned.

It didn’t help that the Canucks had been through another subpar season, but his upset state wasn’t helping that as he hadn’t scored since you left. Sometimes he wondered if you still watched his games, each time that he’d skate onto the ice he’d search for your face in the crowd and each time he was left empty handed.

Somehow despite all this, your relationship didn’t actually end on bad terms, you two still loved each other and had truly learnt that absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

The fight that broke the camels back though now felt minuscule, if he didn’t want to come with you on your business trip to Paris you didn’t really care. You’d settle for those two weeks without him rather than the last two months, every day of the week.

Now it was present day and your friends managed to convince you to join them on a night out. It was going to be your first as a single woman. You had even managed to get a smile onto your face, not a fake forced smile but instead a real one.

Yet it felt like a balloon full of water burst above your head as you saw him.

Quinn had been dragged to the same bar by his teammates as they celebrated the fact that the season was over.

Your friend saw that you tensed up and as she followed your line of sight she was quick to apologise “we can go somewhere else if you would like?” She proposed not wanting you to have a bad night.

But as there were five of you in the group this was a moment you didn’t want to be selfish in “this bar is big enough for the two of us.” Your voice was soft as you shook your head not letting your eyes leave the boy as you stared more so in shock.

He looked like he had lost weight, hadn’t shaved so his facial hair was now growing out of control, the curls that you loved but he hated were now proudly sat on his head.

Quinn wished that he had seen his hairdresser though the second he saw you. He actually heard your best friends laugh first, it was funny how the sound irritated him.

When he thought he was dreaming or that his sleep deprived mind was playing tricks on him, he spun his head around locking eyes with you.

His cold beer glass masked the sweatiness of his hands as he chugged the last of the bland liquid before he got up “anyone else need a refill?” He watched as you walked off heading in the direction of the bar.

It was the perfect time to talk to you, yes he knew that it was selfish but part of him just hoped that you were as caught up by the breakup as he was.

So he made his way over to the bar, making sure to avoid the drunken men that walked into his path as he was desperate to never lose sight of your little green dress that he loved so much on you.

You thought he never noticed that when the told you he liked that dress on your first date you went out and bought it in seven other colours. But he did, Quinn noticed everything yet that original dress still remained his favourite.

The familiar sound of your acrylics tapping on the table sent shivers down his spine “hey,” his voice came out like a croak causing your eyes to go wide.

You stared at him through the corner of your eye knowing that if you faced him, it would have been over for you “hi.”

If you two hadn’t broken up his fingers would have been on your jaw forcing you to look at him “can you look at me?” He asked feeling the tears begin to well at his eyes “please?” The beg was enough to make your hearty break all over again.

You looked at him not caring that you makeup was now very much ruined as tears ran down your cheeks “I’m sorry,” you blurted out not knowing what else to say.

But it was also true, you did feel sorry about breaking up with him. You wished that you’d handled things better. Yes this was the best way to protect your heart but besides for that it was the worst possible option for every other thing.

Just like old times Quinn didn’t hesitate to comfort the girl as he wrapped his arms around her pulling her into a hug “I know,” he placed a kiss on your head ignoring how your tears were soaking his shirt.

The coldness of those tears hit him like a dose of reality, you left because the relationship had grown cold.

This was the first time he had hugged you since January, it was now April.

He never meant to stop putting in effort but one day it sort of started and he didn’t know how to stop it. And he was so stressed about hockey that he let the fights you two had fall into the back of his mind.

Whilst he had spent the last two months thinking you were the bad guy, he realised that it had been his fault all along.

That was almost the problem with the whole thing, you each blamed yourselves for putting the knife into the relationship.

Quinn swore that he had been doing it over time and you were just the one to give it the final push.

You finally got your breathing under control causing you to look up at him as your chin rested against the his chest “why are you here?” You asked not trying to be rude but you swore that if you were in his shoes even you wouldn’t want anything to do with yourself.

He let out a soft laugh as he dragged his thumb against your cheek “missed you,” he confessed as he watch the pad of his finger clean in the smudge of your mascara.

Hearing that he must have also had a rough time made you feel sick to your stomach “thought you would have hated me.” You mumbled still thinking that this was all a dream.

Quinn would have been lying if he said that your words didn’t break his heart “could never hate you.” He softly smiled trying to tell you that he meant every word.

As much as he enjoyed being with his friends he wanted to leave “come with me?” He asked holding his hand out for you to grab.

The way his hand interlocked with yours told you that this wasn’t a dream “we should talk somewhere a bit more private.” As much as you wanted to say that you could go back to his apartment and be fine, you knew that things needed to change.

And if they didn’t then you would be having to move on forever.

The stars shone down on Vancouver as you two snuck out of the bar, despite the fact that both friends groups watched the interaction neither decided to stop it.

Sitting in his car that parked at a lookout spot looking over the city as you two ate food from your favourite takeaway restaurant you learnt one thing:

You weren’t letting him go as easy as you did this time.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #hockey imagine #oneshots #imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hockey imagines #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #amber writes fics

[rosemaeridream]

a bout of amnesia and a personality change || aespa - yjm

yu jimin x reader

warnings: high school AU, reader sorta became an OC - deal with it, reader thinks jimin is conceited - idk why she's been nothing but a sweetie, jimin likes jazz, reader is also so awkward i apologise but jimin doesnt mind, this is just fluff and gay panic, angst if u take off your glasses and read upside down

Synopsis: "The only way I’d ever see her praise Jimin was if she hit her head and woke up with a bout of amnesia and a personality change."

word count: ~6k

You don’t consider yourself popular. Everyone in your grade knew you, and you’ve spoken to almost everyone, but you weren’t part of the popular clique nor did you want to be. You preferred your mismatched gang of six. Yes, they were loud and (really) stupid most of the time, but it was out of the limelight and they felt safe; you liked it that way. 

However, you were sometimes jealous of the popular group, specifically one Yu Jimin, who whispers shadowed wherever she stepped. You often watched large crowds split in the school grounds when she walked through or admirers gift large bouquets of flowers whenever she was found on campus. 

Jimin wasn’t only popular with the student body though, due to her straight A grades, her pristine attendance record, and her charming fake (?) smile, she was also known as the model student with her teachers. 

However when it came to first hand experience with the girl, you had none. Call yourself superficial but you didn’t think you needed to know the girl to have her whole personality written out on a blank sticky note. 

Jimin was a teacher’s pet; the pretty girl who lived next door. Someone who thought of themselves so highly, they didn’t need to interact with or let anyone below their league get to know them. 

At least that was the impression most people had.

To further affirm your thoughts, most of your friends had similar opinions. Chaeyoung thought she was much too withdrawn for the whole school to fawn over her. Both Yena and Yunjin were indifferent, agreeing that she was too much of a people pleaser to be interesting. And Chaewon’s small interactions had left her a little scared of the girl, saying she was cold and intimidating.

The only person who had come to her defence was Minjeong. They shared a few classes together and she often cleared the air in situations where Jimin was bad-mouthed by your friends. 

Once you had asked why she defended Jimin, and the other girl just shrugged, told you that appearances aren’t everything, and that you should try talking to her for once, unlike the rest of your grade, then went back to eating the food in front of her. 

But you didn’t want to get to know Jimin. Not when your eyes met across the courtyard and sickly sweet smiles were sent your way (they were fake, right?). Not when you heard her melodic voice floating around the hallways. And definitely not when you attended Yunjin’s field hockey games and spent the entire time watching the wrong person.

The only way I’d ever see her praise Jimin was if she hit her head and woke up with a bout of amnesia and a personality change. - Lee Chaeyoung.

ABOUT HOW YOU ‘HIT’ YOUR HEAD:–

You just really needed to go to the bathroom. Knocking on the door again, you yelled out. “Can you please hurry up? There’s no other bathroom free.”  Your brother was inside, no doubt dying his hair another colour.  “Just wait a moment, I’ve got gloves on and can’t open the door.” You waited 10 more seconds then decided to take matters into your own hands. Patiency was never your finest trait, and definitely not when your bladder was about to burst.  “I’m opening the door so if you’re making out with someone in there you better stop.” You half joked. The door opened revealing your brother looking mildly embarrassed. You didn’t care what he was doing as long as you could relieve yourself.  Entering the small room you started to manoeuvre over to the toilet in the corner of the room. “What colour are you dying it this time?” You peaked over your brother’s shoulder to see bleach and a bottle of toner on the sink.  But before you got an answer your foot caught on the corner of the shower mat. To stop yourself from slam dunking your head into the toilet bowl, and a possible concussion, you reached out and grabbed the closest thing you could reach. Unfortunately that was your brother who had just picked up the bowl of bleach on the sink.  Curse that stupid shower mat.  You hadn’t hit your head on the toilet, thank god, but something, perhaps worse in your opinion, had happened. The bowl of bleach that was in your brother’s hands was emptier than it had been a moment ago.  Neither you nor your brother were known for thinking long term. Usually that resulted in stupid decisions that seemed like good ones in the moment. Like unleashing your dog to let it play with a small puppy, then watching as it bolted off to chase a pigeon into the distance.  Or something like bleaching the rest of your hair could definitely be one of those moments.

You were late again. You hated Tuesday mornings anyway, there was no reason to have assemblies when they had one on Friday morning too. At least you could sneak into the school without having to get a late slip. Quietly weaving through the mass of students you quickly found your friends where they usually sat.

“Have I missed anything important?” You whispered to Minjeong who was definitely not paying attention to the current staff member with the microphone droning about what you assumed to be a writing competition. Minjeong jerked out of her trance and turned to you.

It looked like she was about to say something but instead of words coming out of her mouth, a small yelp was in their place. Instantly a teacher shushed her. Minjeong covered her mouth with her hand and nodded her apologies to the teacher.

By now everyone was looking at the both of you. Knowing they would look away in a moment, you tried asking Minjeong again. “Jeongie? Did I miss anything?” You nudged her with your elbow.

Instead of Minjeong, Yunjin, who was sitting two people down the row, replied. “Clearly it’s not what you missed.”

“What do you me-” You were cut off by the teacher shushing you all again. Everyone was still watching you, the staff member still droning on about the competition.

Minjeong reached up to wrap a finger around a strand of your hair.

“It’s so...” she mumbled. “Blonde.”

“What the hell, Y/N?” Yena’s head poked out from even further down the line.

“Choi Yena.” A stern voice sounded from behind them. “Would you please be quiet!”

Yena looked like she wanted to say more, but she held back, only to not get herself into trouble.

Everyone was still staring at your head. You could feel it; beady eyes burning through the now blonde hair.

Somehow, you blame it on a stroke of luck, and maybe your (newfound) ability to escape from awkward social situations, you slipped away from the crowds after you were dismissed from assembly. Avoiding all the people looking at you (and your hair), you quickly made your way to class.

Instead of heading towards the steps that your gang usually congregated by when the lunch bell rang, you turned and made your way towards the building off to the side of the campus. 

The school library was bigger than it looked. It was split into three parts; an open plan common room directly in front of the door; to the right, a maze of clustered shelves extended to the back of the room, where a door led to the study alcoves seniors had authority over.

Entering the library you immediately turned right, wanting to be hidden by the hundreds of tall shelves gathered in the room. Book spines blurred together as you quickly weaved through the room. Soon you’d be lost in the maze. Sighing in relief once you were far enough in, you slowed your pace down, occasionally taking note of the names of books surrounding you.

The further into the shelves you got the more disorientated you became. You would have scolded yourself for not paying attention to where you came from if you weren't suddenly standing in front of Yu Jimin, her nose in a book, sitting on the floor below you.

To be frank, you probably wouldn't have said anything to her, like the rest of your grade, if Jimin hadn't looked up at that very moment.

“Uh- h- uhm hi?” You uncharacteristically stuttered. “I’m sorry. I uh- just wanted to get away from the uh- outside- I mean, people watching... me…? No, you see, I ah- dyed my- Well I didn’t dye it, I actually slipped, but you don’t need to know that- but… well ah-” Pretty brown eyes watched you curiously as you stumbled through your greeting. You shut your mouth when you realised that nothing you had just said made any sense. 

Mirth filled the pretty brown eyes, as her lips pulled at the corners of her mouth. “You’re Kang Y/N, right? I think we share P.E. class.” You didn’t say a word, worried that you would embarrass yourself again, though it didn’t matter, as the girl sitting in front of you kept talking.

“You know, I almost didn’t recognise you at all.” Her eyes flickering across blonde hair. “It suits you.”

“A- ah, thank you.”

Jimin gave you a warm smile and went back to her book. It was fake, you could have made a mad dash for the Bible in the library just to swear on it. However, you felt like you were missing something. 

“Uhm…”

Jimin looked back up from her book. “Do you need anything?” Her smile was warm, as if she were a close friend. That made no sense, you didn’t like her and she didn’t know you.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Asking anyway, you pointed to a spot near where the other girl was sitting. “The hair dye thing is kinda giving me a lot of unwanted attention.”

Jimin’s smile turned knowing. “Sit for as long as you like.”

You arrived in the library earlier than you had the day before. Honestly, you didn’t know why you were here. 

Your friends had all texted you the day before, asking you where you had been at lunch. You had been oddly defensive; instead of telling them that you were in the library sitting next to someone you had previously said you wanted nothing to do with, you told them that you were practising guitar in the music rooms. 

Maybe you’re a little bit stubborn… or maybe you just didn’t like proving Minjeong right. 

Making your way back through the maze you navigated yesterday, you found the spot that Jimin was sitting in empty. You frowned. Maybe I took the wrong turn? The books that lined the shelves around you were definitely the same as before. Perhaps she’s just late? 

Lost, you sat down in the same spot. You couldn’t just sit here looking like you were waiting right? That would be weird. You turned to look at the wall of books behind you. Just grab one, it doesn’t matter as long as it looks like you’re doing something. You slid out a book from directly behind you. The cover was red and had a book shaped like a matchbox in the upper centre. 

“Fahrenheit 451, huh?” You snapped your head to the direction of the voice. Jimin was standing there, pretty brown eyes studying you. “Good book.”

You didn’t know what to say so you just nodded your head. In that moment you cursed the universe for not letting you take a book that you had already read. Jimin walked past you to move towards her spot. The book she held in her hands was different from the one she was reading yesterday. 

“What are you reading?” Jimin looked down at the book in her hands, then turned it around so you could read the title.

The book was well read. The edges of the cover were slightly peeling back to show the cream of the paper below and one of the corners had been bent back as if it had been shoved in a bag that was already too full. When you read the title you almost laughed.

“Harry Potter?”

Jimin hummed in affirmation. Pretty eyes turned into pretty crescents. She sat down in her spot, and made herself comfortable.

“What happened to the book you were reading yesterday?” You were too curious not to ask.

“I finished it.” The girl cracked open the worn book midway. The conversation felt like it had ended. 

You didn’t like that.

You froze. Why didn’t you like that? Why were you here instead of with your friends outside? What did Jimin have that your friends didn't? She has those pretty brown eyes… your mind supplied. Slapping yourself mentally, you refused to let yourself think about it. If anything at all, you can unpack the thought later.

You ended up getting more comfortable where you sat, stretched out your legs and opened up the book you had picked earlier to the first page.

“What house are you in?” A voice interrupted you from reading the first sentence. You turned to see Jimin looking right at you. Her eyes are wide, like she’s genuinely curious.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your Hogwarts’ house?” Jimin slightly motioned the book in her hands towards you. “You have read Harry Potter, right?” You thought you heard the other girl mumble something like ‘or seen the movies’ but you weren't sure.

“Oh, I’m a Slytherin.” You grimaced. “What about you?”

“What do you think I am?” Jimin smiled and you weren’t sure if it was fake anymore. If you didn’t know better you thought it was said rather flirtatiously.

“Uhm, don’t take this the wrong way, but I would’ve placed you in Slytherin.”

“Would’ve?” Jimin raised one of her eyebrows.

“Well,” You avoided all eye contact. “Seeing you sit here right now, makes me think you’re more of a Gryffindor. But-that-might-be-stereotyping-Gryffindors-to-be-confident-around-people-they-don’t-know-very-well-and-I-know-it’s-more-nuanced-than-that-but-it’s-just-the-vibe-that-comes-off-you-with-the-way-you-speak-and-smile-at-me-when-I-don’t-know-you-and-you-don’t-know-me-and-you-keep-talking-to-me-like-we-do-know-each-other-and-it’s-slightly-offputting-but-not-in-a-completely-bad-way-it’s-just-strange-that-you’d-do-that-because-like-I-said-you-don’t-know-me-and-I’m-gonna-shut-up-now.”

A light giggle punctured the silence around you. Oh great, she’s laughing at me. However, when you finally gained the defiant courage to look Jimin right in the eyes, you found no malice there. Only mirth had spread through those pretty brown eyes again. 

You found that - although you didn’t like embarrassing yourself in front of anyone - seeing Jimin find some enjoyment out of your socially awkward behaviour was rewarding enough for you to want to humiliate yourself over, and over again. 

You mentally scoffed at the thought of it. You don’t want to be Jimin’s royal jester. Not when she smiles at you like you’re a puppy chasing its tail, and if she ever looked at you with that expression again, you would happily don a fool’s cap and prance around like an idiot, just to make it last a few moments longer. 

“You’re right…. And you’re much better at reading me than other people. I’d place myself in Gryffindor.” Jimin mused. “You shouldn’t doubt your gut, Y/N. Most people guess Slytherin and leave it at that.” The way your name was formed by Jimin’s mouth was maddening. You almost sqeaked out of nervousness. Why on earth were you behaving this way? You were acting like you had a school girl crush on Jimin or something.

Instead of replying you just gave Jimin a smile that looked more like a grimace, and looked down at the open book in your lap. The words swam on the page; you wouldn’t be reading anything while the other girl was nearby. You snapped the book shut, and stood up too fast for someone trying so hard to seem casual. Jimin watched as you stuffed your book into the closest free spot you could find.

“I, uh- just realised I have to give… uhm, give… give Chaeyoung the money I owe her! You know how people get when you… ah, yeah, borrow money from them? So I’m just going to do that... Yeah.” You blurted out. Using your ability to escape from awkward social situations, which has come in rather handy lately, you gave Jimin a dorky thumbs up, a short farewell, and then practically power walked out of the library.

You didn’t visit Jimin for the rest of the week. In all honesty, you were sure that Jimin didn’t want you awkwardly rambling your way through her breaks. But you didn’t spend much time with your group either. Half embarrassed that you willingly spent one (and a half!) lunches with someone you had bad-mouthed, half stressed about an upcoming guitar solo, you ended up spending your time in the music rooms hunched over your guitar. 

So when you navigate your way back through the shelves the following Monday, you refuse to ask yourself why you’re back here again. Maybe it was because people were still staring at your blonde hair, making you feel uncomfortable through all the unwanted attention. Or maybe it was because you had seen Jimin being handed a letter of confession by a tall, broad-shouldered boy who had a sharp smile earlier that morning. 

The shelves themselves were comforting, looming high over you so the only thing in sight were books, the only thing you could smell was slightly musty paper, and if you put your hand out the only thing you’d touch would be- 

Jimin.

She’s looking up at you with a quizzical wonky smile, eyebrows furrowed, as if to ask why you were almost stepping on her. 

Eyes widening, you step back, fumbling for words. “Oh, hi! I didn’t see you there.” You sound like an idiot. Resisting the urge to hide your face in your hands, you drop down to sit next to her. 

She doesn’t have a book with her today. Instead she’s got her knees to her chest, with her phone resting on top, opened to what looks like a wall of text. You point at her phone with a finger, then try to crack a joke. “Can’t get your head out of a book, huh?”

Jimin turns her head, eyebrows still furrowed. There’s something about her expression that makes your stomach do a tiny little backflip. You still yourself, forcing the sensation away. Then she takes something out of her ear. “Sorry, I was listening to music. What did you say?”

She didn't hear you.

Well, there goes trying to be confident. Staring at her, you open and close your mouth, trying to come up with something to say. You can’t even remember what you had said to her before, all your thoughts had stopped.

Forcing yourself onwards, you do the first thing that comes to mind and grab the earphone in her hand. She cocks her head, confused, and opens her mouth to say something, but you get there first. “What are you listening to?”

Her eyes flick over you, then to the shelves of the library, and that’s when you know you’ve just made things awkward. You’re about to apologise, palm flat with the earphone resting in the centre of it when she speaks up. 

“Almost Blue by Chet Baker.”

Absolutely no bells were ringing in your head. You were sure you were looking at her like an idiot, so you focused on her phone screen instead. Clearing your throat, you tried to make your voice come out confident. “Oh, right. That’s a good one.”

There must have been something about the way you said it, or the position in which you’re sitting, hand stretched out with the earphone resting on it, or maybe even a combination of both, because she lets out a small laugh. It tickles your ears. You move your gaze back to find her already looking at you, smile lines perfectly wrinkled. 

“It’s jazz.” She says after she gets past her laughter. Her hand moves up to yours and plucks the earphone from where it sits, then moves it to your ear. Putting an earphone in for someone has always been an awkward experience for you, but you’ve never been on the flip side of the move, and it’s different. Really different. Her fingers brush your ear, and you stop yourself from moving, whether that be from trying to help her ease the bud into your ear, or because you can feel your heart pumping erratically in your chest. 

Once the earphone is in, she retracts her hand and turns up the music a couple notches. You process the soft piano complimenting the solo trumpet, creating a sound you’d expect in a noir film where the main character is sitting in a dark bar, mulling over a drink. It’s jazz. She said it was jazz, but like it’s jazz.

After a couple moments of silence she pulls you from your music induced haze. “I like this one a lot, it lets me unwind.” You watch as she twiddles with her fingers, the image of her being handed the letter this morning no longer there. Only a timid Jimin, lips twisted in a nervous smile, is left behind. The Jimin who sits in the library during lunch, reading Harry Potter. The Jimin who listens to jazz.

“It’s good. Very… detective in a slump.” You force yourself to speak, realising that she wants your opinion on the music. The way her smile brightens tells you that you said the right thing.

You spend the rest of your lunch break with Jimin rambling on about the various jazz standards that were playing, and the ways in which they affected the industry. And, honestly, you could have stayed there longer.

You decided to sit with your friends today. Yena had rung you up yesterday afternoon to pester you into having lunch, asking every question under the sun, and making sure you knew that she was being neglected. Instead of getting on your knees and apologising profusely for your misconduct, like Yena would love, you just brush her off and promise to buy her boba the next time you hang out. 

It was slightly odd being around loud people again. Between spending time in the quiet library with Jimin or alone with your guitar, the sheer hecticness of your friends was overwhelming. Yena and Chaewon were loudly bickering over food like usual, resulting in Chaewon whining for Yunjin to back her up, while Chaeyoung kept prolonging the argument by adding in extra points for both of the girls. Yunjin starts to argue with Chaeyoung, telling her that she’s fueling the fire, and steals the food, holding it in the air which makes both Yena and Chaewon screech.

You sigh and block them out, suddenly wanting nothing more than the peace of the library. And maybe pretty brown ey-

“You okay?” Minjeong pokes at your arm. She has a sandwich half stuffed in her mouth which would be adorable if you didn’t know how much of a little shit she could be when she wanted.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I just forgot how annoying you guys are.” You send her a stiff smile. 

Minjeong just stares you down. It’s concerning how soulless she can be sometimes. Straightening your back, you force a slightly less stiff smile, hoping to placate her. Somehow, it works, (She took pity on you.) and her expression morphs into one more resembling concern. “Wanna go to a practice room? I can play guitar with you.” She offers. The both of you had spent countless breaks alone with your instruments, picking out a vast array of rock and metal songs to learn together. You had even joked with her about starting a band together once.

However, today you weren’t feeling rock or metal or even pop.

“Nah,” You show her your hands, palms up, fingers wiggling. They were calloused and the skin at the tips of your fingers was peeling. It didn’t hurt much anymore, just small pinpricks of pain when you touched something the wrong way. “I should rest my fingers.”

She nods and draws her attention back to Yunjin being chased around the courtyard by Yena who’s screaming expletives. You silently thank the universe that she doesn’t prod any further, especially since on every occasion previously you had accepted the offer, even if your fingers were covered in bandaids.

Drifting off in your thoughts, you wondered what Jimin was doing. Did she have her head in a book today or was she listening to music? If she was, what was she listening to? Was she happy spending time alone in the library without you? At that final thought, you pulled yourself from your daze. Why would Jimin care about you enough to not be happy when you weren’t there?

There’s a shriek and you look up to see Yena on top of Yunjin, Chaewon trying to pull her off. Minjeong chuckles beside you, taking her phone out of her pocket to record. When you sigh again, she turns to look at you.

“You know you can go to the library, right? Yena might miss you for a moment, then she’d remember that Chaeyoung called her a shrimp that one time and spend the rest of the break badgering her.” There’s a slightly more worrying yelp from Yunjin and Minjeong stands up to take care of it. She takes a couple steps forwards, then spins to face you, while pacing backwards. “You don’t have to listen to rock all the time. Jazz can be good too!”

You’re left stunned as Minjeong turns back around and helps pull Yena off Yunjin. How did she know? Minjeong isn’t stupid, but no one knew you were with Jimin in the library. And how did she know that Jimin even liked jazz? There were so many questions and too little answers, so instead of sitting there dumbly till the bell rang, you shoved your things into your bag and headed towards the library. 

The library was a sanctum; quiet, safe and had attendants who were as close to heaven as possible. Or at least, Jimin was as pretty as an angel. But you never interacted outside of the library. She was different when the walls of books weren’t the only other thing you could see. You felt too intimidated to talk to her when she was trailed around by admirers, or when people whispered in her wake. On too many occasions you found yourself zoned out of your friends' antics, your eyes travelling to find Jimin walking around campus, an bored smile plastered on her lips.

Sometimes you got close, brushing past her as she stood outside her classroom while waiting for her teacher. Opening your mouth to say something, anything, then meeting her eyes and seeing uninterested blackness instead of the pretty warm brown that reflected in the overhead lights of the library. Deciding to shut up and move on. 

Or that one time Jimin had walked up to your group to talk to Minjeong about a class project. You stood behind Chaeyoung, using her tall figure to keep you hidden. Chaewon and Yunjin blabbering away, too focused on each other to see how intensely you were staring at her. Jimin wrapped up the conversation pretty quickly, then her eyes flicked to you poking your head around Chaeyoung. She kept her eyes on you, looking like she wanted to speak to you too. Then Yena burst your bubble, slapping your butt playfully as she joined the circle, making you break eye contact. When you looked back Jimin was long gone. 

You were in the library first today, it was cold out and the heater had just been put on. So you sat with your knees to your chest trying to preserve your body heat. Jimin wandered in a couple minutes later, carrying a bouquet of flowers. She carelessly dropped them to the floor, before plopping down next to you. The way her shoulders slumped and her head drooped made it obvious that she wasn’t exactly happy.

“Did something happen?” You ask cautiously. She doesn’t meet your eyes, and reaches to grab your hand instead. Her eyes flicker to the bouquet, then she speaks up, her voice tired, mopey. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Mmkay.”

After a couple seconds, she moves her head to rest on your shoulder, not saying a word. You sit there just as quietly, not wanting to make her uncomfortable or bring up something she doesn’t want to talk about. The soft scent of the flowers lingered in the air. You couldn’t help but feel resentment towards them. One day she’d eventually accept a bouquet and your time with her in the library would be cut short. 

The heater hummed in the background, generating heat that enveloped the both of you. Apart from the hum, you could only process Jimin’s slow breaths, the rise and fall of her chest relaxing you, even if you were still deeply concerned for her. You hated admitting that you were wrong, normally being one to succumb to pride and stubbornly refuse to budge. But maybe you were wrong, just this once, about her. Maybe she wasn’t the stuck up ice-princess that you had thought.

Without a word, Jimin moves again, this time pulling on your waist so that you’re in between her legs. You feel like a teddy bear, her head over your shoulder and nose tucked into your chin, while her arms encircled your torso. The position made your heart flutter, but you pushed it down. Jimin’s clearly not good right now, and you can’t be thinking of her in that way. 

You just let her hold you. It was bringing her some form of comfort and that was better than any of your awkward reassurance could do. Sometimes, silence had a way of bridging gaps that words couldn't cross.

You never figured out how Minjeong knew that you were spending all your lunches with her. It hadn’t occurred to you to ask Jimin, and you knew that asking Minjeong herself was out of the picture. Instead you shamelessly spent your time with Jimin, slowly but surely warming up to her. If someone were to watch you sitting together they would observe two things. One; Jimin was completely used to your presence to the point that you could walk in complaining about being cold and flop down in her lap, whining that she was hogging all the warmth, and two; you stared a lot and Jimin was either unaware, or plainly, just didn’t care.

Staring at Jimin was your purpose, you decided. No one could be as mesmerising as her, even from underneath, looking up at her chin. That’s where you were today, your head in her lap, her book resting on your chest. You were meant to be reading along with her, nodding everytime you ‘finished’ the page so she could turn it, but in reality you found your eyes drifting to her instead.

Her eyelashes are long; they flutter every so often, whether it be from her eyes moving line to line through the book, or to look down at you, looking up at her. Whenever your eyes met you quickly flicked them back to the book, fighting against the warmth on your cheeks.

At this point she’d know, right? You had given up on indicating that you had finished a page a couple turns ago and that meant she knew… right? But Jimin never said anything and nothing about her behaviour suggested that she cared.

So you kept looking. It was your purpose to observe her in her most comfortable form.

Your train of thought chugged along in a daze, studying the curve of her bottom lip when suddenly someone switched the lever for the tracks.

Shuffling in her lap, you softly pinched her arm to grab her attention. “Jimin?”

She finished off her sentence, then looked at you questioningly, a quiet noise of curiosity forming in the space between you.

“Why do you always come to the library?” You stared up at her. The thought had popped across your mind several times in the past couple weeks, once when seeing her actively avoiding a group of the people you consider her friends; another when you accidentally eavesdropped on some girls in the bathroom gossiping about the ‘Elusive Yu Jimin’.

She closed the book and let it rest on your chest. Looking away from you, she seemed to be considering something. Then she furrowed her brows and let out a little breath. “What was your first impression of me?”

Words came to your mind. Conceited. Spoilt. Teacher’s Pet. Fake. Calculating. You couldn’t admit that to her, so instead you just kept staring, frozen. She doesn’t prompt you further though, and your train of thought wanders again. 

Jimin wasn’t any of those things; you had realised that weeks ago. In fact, sometimes you had the feeling that she was a little insecure about herself; occasionally a sad sort of look flashed across her eyes, one that you wished you’d never see again.

And you wished you had just spoken to her in P.E. instead of making assumptions about her. You missed out on so many moments that you could have had if you weren’t so superficial.

Then it hit you like a truck; the answer to your question. 

Everyone knows Jimin. She’s pretty, she’s popular, she gets asked out once a week, she has good grades, she’s aloof, but never outright mean..

But no one knows Jimin.

Your mouth parted slightly, guilt forming a lump in your throat. To realise that you’d fed into it too? You hadn’t tried to get to know her, you’d just put her in a box and moved on with it. 

She finally makes eye contact with you. A hint of unease swirls in them. You shut your mouth.

Then you decide to stop being such a pussy and front up. “I thought you were kind of a bitch.”

Her mouth drops.

“I don’t anymore!” You clarify quickly. “I just… assumed. You’re like so…” You bring your hand up from where it rests on your stomach to motion at her. She worries at her lip. “You give off the vibe that you’d tell me to fuck off if I wasn’t up to your standards.”

Jimin only stares at the book on your chest. 

You groan, thinking you’ve majorly fucked up. “Jimin… you know how much I hate admitting that I’m wrong.”

She sways her head, still keeping her eyes only on the book. 

“I was wrong about you.” You force out and finally her eyes meet yours.

“You’re anything but a bitch. You’re sweet and kind and funny and stupidly gorgeous, and I get it, you know, why so many people line up for a chance with you. Why you come here with a bouquet or a box of chocolates every other day.” You reach up to hold her cheek from below. “But I also understand why you don’t like being the subject of all that attention. Everyone just assumes what they want about you, like you’re a prize to be won. Or that you’re a stuck up narcissist who thrives on all the attention. Or that you even like bouquets.” Jimin giggles softly at your words, gazing down at you softly with her pretty brown eyes.

“And I was one of those people too. I regret it, but I can’t change that.” Your voice comes out determined, like you’re trying to prove to her that you’ve changed your perspective on her.

She looks down at you, gaze unwavering as she considers her next words.

"You’re sweet," she begins, her voice gentle. "But I do like flowers… as long as they’re from the right people." Her fingers trace absentminded patterns on the cover of the book resting on your chest.

There’s a beat of silence.

“And if I gave you one?” You ask hesitantly.

Jimin’s lips pull into a smile and this time you know it’s not fake.

“It’s for Jimin, right?” Minjeong stares at the bouquet in your hands. 

Both Chaeyoung and Yena whip their heads around to stare at you. “For Jimin? Yu Jimin?”

You flush brightly. Considering a couple months earlier you wanted nothing to do with the girl, you supposed it was a bit of a surprise for them. 

Chaeyoung grabs you and shakes your shoulders. “Did you hit your head? Do you have amnesia?”

“No, and no.” You laugh softly. “I just never gave her a chance. You know how it is.”

Minjeong pokes your arm and points to a figure in the distance. You perk up, instantly recognising Jimin from the way she walks. About to take a step towards her, Minjeong grabs your wrist and you turn to look at her questioningly.

“Is now the time to say I told you so?”

A/N: stop putting jimin in slytherin she doesn't belong there

#!! dreamy’s pieces #aespa #karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin #kpop oneshots #kpop imagines #idol x reader #kpop x reader #aespa imagines #aespa x reader #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin

[spookychick78]

OG Michael Myers One Shot

A little continuation of the parking garage one shot as requested by the lovely @slasherhoe87​ 🖤🔪

also, its becoming glaringly obvious how much of a Myers simp I am with how much shit I’ve written about this man.

OG!Michael Myers X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: (Y’all knew this was coming) NSFW, Knife play, blood play, choking

Word Count: 3,697

In the following weeks, (Y/n) couldn't stop thinking of the man in the mask. She found herself searching for him around every corner, down every alley way and through every window. It hadn't taken her long to put it together that whoever he was had been the one causing that undeniable feeling of being watched, but why? He had left her with so many questions and now close to a month since it had happened, she wondered if she would ever get answers.

She put her car in park and exited into the cool night air. The parking garage that had so often than not made her uneasy had begun to excite her every time she came home. Though, that night her excitement had started to fade. He was never there and honestly, she wondered if maybe he had been a figment of her imagination after all. She hurried towards the little room with the elevators and as she opened the door she turned and gave the empty lot one more lingering glance. Nothing.

Michael scoffed as he watched her. She wasn't quite as adept as he was at finding her obsession, though he found her efforts amusing. How funny it was that he had become her obsession, he thought to himself. He took note of her constantly wandering eyes that almost always fell in his direction, unaware that he was indeed there, hidden in the shadows. She had been close several times, but it had become a game to him and one Michael was inevitably better at than she was. He had more patience. Usually. However, it was wearing thin. He too hadn't been able to forget the night he had shown himself to her. It had undoubtedly been a mistake to touch her. The feeling of her skin against his hand, though the exchange was mere seconds, had ignited a desire within him he didn't know he was capable of possessing. Michael couldn't deny himself much longer, he wanted to know her and more than just by the surface level knowledge he'd managed to obtain by just watching. Observing from a distance no longer satisfied him, he wanted more. He wondered if she would be frightened when she finally found what she was looking for. Part of him hoped she would be, fear had looked so delicious on her and he hadn't even been the one to cause it, not entirely. He wanted that pleasure, but he wouldn't end her life. Perhaps he would bring her to the brink of death or perhaps he'd let those carnal thoughts guide him elsewhere. He had never given into them before, he wasn't even sure he had ever had them until he saw her. It was maddening not to know what exactly it was about her that had lured him in so completely. Maybe it was how petite she was in comparison to him, Michael did enjoy feeling larger than life. He knew if he was to wrap his hands around her throat they would all but engulf her. His frame pressed against her's could minimize her being so entirely that she would practically disappear from existence within his arms. Or maybe it was the challenge that excited him to the point of discomfort within his coveralls. He would have to exercise restraint like he never had before in order for her to survive being so entangled with him, because in reality he could end her life in seconds if he didn't. Her fate and possible demise would be in his hands the moment they met her skin once more. The entirety of their proverbial 'moon dance' would cascade along that ever thinning line between life and death. He wondered if she had any idea of the fire she was playing with, head canted to the side as he watched her eyes scan the empty garage in search of him once again.

She let out a frustrated sigh and let the door swing shut behind her. She pressed the button for the elevator, just once this time. She intended to waste as much time as humanly possible just in case he appeared. The doors began to separate, filling the room with their high pitched squeaking and she decided to give up on her search for the night. She slipped inside the cabin and reluctantly pressed the button for her floor. She leaned her back against the wall as she watched the doors close in on each other. Before each end could meet, they creaked to a halt. A hand had come between them, it retracted once the doors began to move outward. They were slower than ever as they reopened and she impatiently craned her neck to catch a glimpse of whom she would be sharing the brief ride upwards with, but found no one was there. She furrowed her brows and took a step forward. Before she could look out the doors, she was pushed back against the wall with a hand around her throat. After the initial shock had worn off, she looked up to see the white mask with the blackest holes looking down on her once again. He held her in place as the doors squeaked shut. After he was certain they were closed, he released his grip on her. (Y/n)'s chest heaved up and down as she struggled to catch the breath he'd knocked out of her.

"It's you," she panted.

She wasn't quite sure if it was fear or unbridled excitement she was feeling, but she surmised it was a dangerous, possibly deadly combination of the two that made her quickly reach her hand past him and lock the elevator. She quickly drew her arm back in and pressed herself back against the wall.

Michael slowly turned his head to see what she had done, moderately impressed by the confidence she had just displayed by assuming he wouldn't kill her. He returned his gaze to her and smirked behind his mask when he saw that subtle hint of fear hidden within her eyes. So she wasn't totally confident, but curious enough to trust him. He would have reminded her that it was curiosity that killed the cat, but he wasn't going to grant her the pleasure of hearing his voice, yet. She would have to be the one to end the silence between them if she had the courage to do so.

She had so many questions, but each of them seemed so nonsensical given the fact that he had never uttered a single word to her. She was almost certain he wouldn't answer any of them, but she had to say something. After waiting so long for this moment, it only seemed wrong to waste it.

"Who," she started, but stopped and rethought the first words she wanted to say, "why did you save me from that man? Why did you kill him but not me?"

Michael tilted his head. Would she have preferred he hadn't? It wasn't necessarily that he had saved her, he wasn't even sure that was the right word. Saving her for himself maybe, that would have been a better way to describe it. Someone had merely threatened to take her before he could and Michael wasn't one to share. She would soon learn that, if he hadn't made it clear enough for her before, he was about to. She waited so patiently for a response, her (e/c) eyes seemingly trying to decipher his features behind the mask without physically removing it. Her curiosity made her appear so innocent as she gazed up at him, inadvertently fueling his desire to take that innocence for himself. Though he had to admit, he found it somewhat endearing that she was so entranced by him she didn't even realize the position she could have possibly put herself in, were he not so obsessed with her in his own regard. He brought his hand up to her cheek as he had done before, but this time he let his fingertips explore the softness of her skin. She was truly delicate, he thought to himself as he let them wander down to her lips. She parted them for him. He raised his eyebrows behind his mask as he traced her bottom lip, just barely allowing himself inside her mouth, and felt moisture coat the top of his fingers. He brought his hand up to study his own skin that had been wet by her, the sight of that alone brought an urge to taste her to the surface.

"Who are you?" She asked as she watched his silent observation.

His eyes shot back to her. She had asked that once before, only now he was more willing to oblige her with an answer, to some degree. It was purely based on his own desire, but it might satisfy her questions for the time being. He brought both hands to the back of his mask and slowly peeled the rubber off of himself. He kept his head down and observed what was for the majority of the world his face in his own hands, but for her and only her, he would show himself as he truly was. He knelt down and gently set it aside before towering above her again. As he lifted his head, he told himself he was only doing it because he needed to if he was going to do what he was about to do, that was all. Though even Michael knew there was a part of him that felt she was deserving, even if he couldn't explain why.

(Y/n)'s face started to heat up when she realized the man behind the mask was undoubtedly handsome. He was much younger than she had expected he would be, it seemed he wasn't far off from her age. He had dark curls that framed his near perfectly structured face, the only imperfection being the scar that ran through one of his eyes. His jaw was clenched as though he was somewhat nervous under her gaze, but that subtle movement of his muscles accentuated his prominent jawline further. His brows were knit together in an almost disapproving way over his expressionless eyes, one blue, one milky white and his mouth kept tightly shut as she studied him. Each feature had such a unique and unexplainable draw that she found herself wanting to touch him, to further inspect the ever so silent and stoic man before her. Her hand wandered up, but before she could touch him, he flinched and those disapproving brows furrowed tighter than before. She held her hand in place midair as she watched him contemplate the interaction. He blinked his eyes as he studied her hand, then turned his gaze to meet her's, granting her passage to continue. She slowly reached forward and let her fingertips touch his cheek first, then steadily rested her palm over him to hold the side of his face in her hand. His eyes flickered shut and his brows relaxed at the strange new sensation. She was warm against his cool skin and he found himself resting in her touch, his head fell slightly to the side to give in further. She watched, fascinated by the way he seemed to relish in the minimal contact as if he had been starved a lifetime for it. He finally opened his eyes and took her hand in his to bring it to his lips. He didn't kiss her fingers, he simply brushed them over his skin, unsure of what exactly it was he wanted to do. Her skin was so soft.

"Won't you tell me your name?" She said softly.

Needy, he thought to himself as he began to kiss her fingers. He told himself he'd only tell her so he could hear how it sounded coming from her mouth.

"Michael," he whispered back.

"Michael," she repeated gently.

It sounded better than he'd expected in her breathy, distracted tone and it fanned those flames she'd lit within him further. Her fingers were no longer satisfying him, he needed to explore her further. He wanted her to say his name again against his lips. He dropped her hand and reached both of his forward to cup her face as he pressed his body against her's and engulfed her lips in a kiss so hungry it made her knees weak. As she melted into it she couldn't help but notice the desperation he had for her pressed up against the top of her thigh. She wasn't sure how much he would allow her to do, but as if he had read her mind, he took her arms and draped them over his shoulders in one swift movement before his hands returned to her face. She took some liberty and tangled her fingers in the curls that hung just above the back of his neck. As she tugged on his hair, Michael pressed harder against her and paid no mind to the moan that escaped his lips. He had been absolutely right, restraining himself was going to be a challenge, one more difficult than he'd expected. He wanted so badly to hear her say his name again, but this time he wanted her to cry it out. He needed to regain some control, because she had more than he realized she would with the way her fingers sent chills down his spine every time she pulled on his locks. Then she shifted against him, rubbing him so that it made him ache in such a devastatingly good way. His hand instinctively flew to her throat and wrapped itself around it in a tight embrace. She let out a gasp and he smirked against her kiss, it was the power shift he needed to know he was still in control no matter what she did or what he wanted her to do to him. He broke away from her, hand still tightly wound around her neck to keep her in place against the wall. He watched a smiled spread across her face as he struggled to catch his uneven breath. He wasn't sure what he liked more, to see her frightened or to see her look so proud of what she was doing to him. Her pride reignited that challenge he so adored, it made him want to force her to unravel, to bring her to the brink of death, but in a different way. He would make her beg for mercy and after he was done with her, she would beg for more. A smile of his own spread across his face as he reached his free hand into his pocket to retrieve his knife. When he revealed it to her he delighted in the way her smile fell and fear flickered in her eyes. He brought it down to the bottom of her dress and removed his hand from her throat to pull the material taut before he took the blade and sliced the fabric upwards. The sound of it ripping bounced off of the elevator's walls and combined with her accelerated breath, Michael was entranced. He finally reached the top and let the knife continue it's ascent upwards until the blade rested underneath her chin. She craned her neck up with it and looked at him with that same hint of excitement he'd seen in her when he first entered. She watched his grip tighten on the knife's handle until his knuckles turned pale as if he was fighting the urge to plunge it into her. She hesitantly brought her hands up to his and guided the knife to the side of her neck. If he was going to kill her he would have by now and by this point she was just as eager as he was to continue this dance, so her next words came perhaps a little too easy.

"I trust you, Michael," she breathed as she guided his knife down the side of her neck.

His was captivated by the sight of her blood dripping out from under his blade and down to her shoulder. His pupils became overblown as his desire reached its boiling point. He cast the knife aside and grabbed her by her shoulders to flip her around. He ripped her dress from her body and quickly did away with the rest of the cloth so that no part of her was hidden. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled her back against him and craned her neck back so he could drag his tongue up towards the cut she had allowed him to give her. He collected her blood in his mouth then focused his attention on the wound, sucking with such brutality she could already feel the bruise he would leave forming under his lips. Once he had cleaned her with his tongue, he pushed her forward so that her cheek was pressed against the wall. The sound of his zipper being pulled down filled her ears and in turn, filled her with such a buzzing excitement she could barely wait the few seconds it took for him to free himself. Finally, she felt him line himself up at her entrance and without warning, he invaded her with one firm thrust that shook her to her core. Pain intermingled with a burning and intense pleasure unlike any she had felt before. He hung his head over her shoulder and the sound of his uneven breath filled her ear as he began to set a brutal and unforgiving pace. She struggled to keep her balance as he rocked into her and he seemed to take note. He wrapped an arm around her and rested his other hand against the wall, steadying the both of them as he continued his pursuit to leave her in shambles. At the same time, he himself was overwhelmed by the pleasure her tightly wound body was granting him. Sensations crept upwards from where their bodies met and into his core, tangling together inside of him like knots on the verge of snapping. His hand against the wall balled into a fist, tightening in tandem with those knots as he pushed himself inside of her with more force than before. Her head fell back against him and a cry ripped from her throat, along with a slew of praises. It was then he got what he wanted.

"Michael," she cried out as her face contorted into an expression that could only be described as pained bliss.

He was almost too much for her to take, his size combined with the intensity of his movements made her burn in a way she hadn't before. That searing sensation made her shake in his grip as he pummeled the sweet spot nestled deep inside of her. She desperately needed something to cling to as she neared the edge. She wasn't sure her legs would hold. Her hand flew back in search of his shoulder, but she barely had a sense of direction at that point.

"Michael," she keened once more as she clutched at the blue cloth of his coveralls tightly.

Without warning, he ceased his movements and removed himself from her, causing her to whine from the sudden empty feeling he'd so cruelly left her with. He flipped her around and swiftly hoisted her up so her legs could wrap around his waist. He lowered her back onto him and once he was certain she wouldn't fall, he let his hands find the back of her head so he could force her lips to his again. His fingers tangled in her hair as he attempted to keep her lips on his, but at the pace he was going, it was anything but neat. Still, she returned his sloppy kisses with the utmost enthusiasm as she felt herself approaching her climax. She reached behind her head and guided his hand in between their bodies to a spot he hadn't yet discovered. She placed his calloused fingers over her clit and guided them in little circles. It didn't take long for him to get the hang of it, but still, he followed her lead. With each circle their fingers drew together he could feel her body tightening around him more so than he thought possible. Before long, she broke their kiss and he watched her head fall back, mouth agape as her body fluttered around him. Somewhere between the way she looked, the sound of his name falling from her lips like a prayer and the trembling of her body around his, Michael came completely and utterly undone. His head fell into the crevice between her shoulder and neck as his body all but collapsed into her. It was a concerted effort to maintain his hold on her, but he did and he made sure his grip was tight around her thighs.

"(Y/n)," she heard him breath into her ear before he spilled into her.

She didn't even stop to think about the fact that she hadn't once told him her name, all she could focus on was the way his breath felt on her skin, the burn of fresh bruises on her thighs and how wonderful it felt to have been undeniably marked by him. Michael would never admit it out loud, but in a way, she had claimed him for her own as well. Though his movements had ceased, he didn't want to leave her warmth. He breathed in her scent and pressed his lips to her shoulder as she draped her arms around his neck. There was no doubt she was in shambles, just as he had intended, but he feared he was in a far worse state than he had been in before. When he lifted his head up to look at her once more, that only worsened it. Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled and her eyes were glassy as she smiled lazily at him. He felt his chest tighten in a strange way as she leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, gentle as rain. Obsessed was now an understatement.

#Michael Myers #michael my beloved #michael audrey myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers smut #og michael myers #slasher #slasher smut #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #HORROR SMUT #horror fiction #slasher fucker #my husband

[footiehoemcfc]

We'll be Alright

Hi :) okay so this is the first fic I've ever written and the first one I've ever posted so I'm still new to trying and figuring out how this works. I've always wanted to write one and I had this concept on my notes for a while now. I also want to thank @carlottawllms and @cityfanchelseaslut because with just their writing they played a small part in inspiring me to do this <3. Anyways this will deff have a second part or three idk yet, but it will not be out until like a week or two cause I'm going a on a trip. I hope you like it and if you have feedback lmk ily. Angst, tw some curse words, 2.7k words PART 2, 3 and 4 (final) on my masterlist!

Life lately had been stressful to say the least. It had taken a toll on you and Mason. You were in the middle of a busy period with your company, a lot of meetings, projects and deadlines. On top of that, you’ve had family problems. Mason was dealing with social media scrutiny, transfer rumors, little to zero game time and it affected him, more than he liked to admit. You both were really just tired of everything and the only thing both of you wanted was a break from everything and be with one another. 

Your relationship was not new, but it was not long enough for it to have been through really rough patches. You knew at some point it would come though, Mason travels a lot and is always training. However, you always thought that whatever rough patch you’d go through would be easy with him since you two were pretty good at communicating. This hasn’t been the case at all. Ever since the new year Mason has been more and more distant and wanted to talk less about everything. You could feel it, you felt lonely. You felt like you were just there, you did not feel like his girlfriend, you felt like he didn’t love you as much. 

It was already dinner time and you were cooking for the both of you, something you always liked to do. You heard the front door open and Mason walk in through the door. You smiled at him and he gave you a smile as well. “Hi my love, smells good” he said as he placed his keys on the key holder. “Hi baby, thanks I’m making this Mexican bowl I saw on tiktok thought you might like it”, he came over to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek saying “Thank you”. 

When you finished cooking, you both sat down and ate almost entirely in silence until he decided to tell you something you were not expecting. “I had a meeting with Lew and my dad today, about my contract”, you had no idea where this was going since it was pretty much the first time he was talking about this topic with you. You nodded for him to go on, “well I think a transfer would be the best option for me in the summer, there are a couple of clubs that have shown interest so…yea”. What? You thought to yourself. You were so confused. He had always wanted to stay here why is it changing all of a sudden? You met this boy 2 years ago, he would always go on and on about how much he loved the fans, the team, the staff, the stadium, the atmosphere, so how come he wants to leave now? At the beginning of the relationship you would’ve agreed immediately not being a huge Chelsea fan yourself, but after being with him and getting to know him, you could care less what club he was playing, you knew how much he loved living here and being on the team. Sure, this season has been far from what they thought it would be, but you were not expecting this. You had your doubts, why is he wanting a move now? 

“Hello, are you there?” Mason said chuckling interrupting you from all of your thoughts. “I thought you’d be more excited or happy about this…” he said, “No, I mean, yes, I’m just shocked sorry. I wasn’t expecting that, especially since you love it here and since I’ve known you you’ve never mentioned leaving or anything like that.” “Yea I know I never have but, you know my contract ends next year, the new offer is not ideal, and Lewis and my dad think it’s the best option” he said looking at you, “okay” you weren’t sure what to say. You knew it was not his idea. As much as he needed to take into consideration other people’s opinions on this matter, you thought it was best if he made a decision based on what he thought it was best for him. “Okayy what?” “Nothing” “Y/n I know you, you are biting your tongue”. 

Well, if you promised to be honest with him you would. “I just think…I mean is that what you really want? You want to leave? Or is it just the easy way out? Or just because your family said it was best you think it is?” you said this in a loving tone, trying to really figure out why he was trying to decide so quickly on this. “I-I do want this” he stuttered, you knew deep down he was still debating whether it would be a good idea or not. “Okay, then that’s fine” you said getting up and picking up your plate. He placed his fork down and looked frustrated. “You don’t believe me” “Mason plea-“ “This is going to be the best for me, I know you never really cared or supported chels but it will be the same with the new club so not much will change and it won’t be that hard for you” you stopped what you were doing while he said this. You never cared? You knew this would turn ugly now that both of you were getting more upset. “I never cared?! I always go to your games when I can, or I watch them from home. You know damn well wherever you go I will support you because you are my boyfriend” “Then why is this so bad for you?” “Because I know this is not what you want!” as much as you didn’t want to raise your voice, you were getting tired of trying to make him understand what bothered you.

You wanted him to be happy, and if that meant leaving then so be it, but it just confused you how he would make such a big decision in a span of a few hours without thinking about it more. Hell, he could barely decide what to wear for a night out in two hours. “It’s what I want now!” He had never raised his voice like this with you. You could cut the tension with a knife in the room. “Have you not seen the shit show this season has been!? Of course not, you’ve been busier than ever with your job and your office meetings.” “And don’t you think that maybe next year it will be different? You are bullshitting yourself into thinking that going to another place is the better option when you and I both know you’ve never ever dreamed of that. Just because people that love you want that for you does not mean you need to do it. Think for yourself. And I do care, I watch every single game of yours, I never say anything about it cause I know you come home upset and never talk to me about it…and that’s…that’s a whole other thing” whispering the last part and looking away. 

This was it. This was the rough patch you were anticipating with him. You didn’t want to have this fight but maybe it was for the best. You were not planning on telling Mason how you’ve felt the last couple of months to not add anything more on his plate, but tonight maybe would be the day. You were tired of it, the first time you are hearing about his contract is today, never discussing it with you. You knew it would be an option and you would follow him anywhere, but it hurt that he could never talk to you about it and have your input as well, every big decision you’ve made you would always ask his opinion. “What whole other thing?” “Mason…I feel like…I feel like the past 2-3 months I’ve just been trying for you to talk to me and for you to let me help you and you just don’t want it. I didn’t even know when you were injured, I find out today that you made up your mind about what you want to do, I never knew anything about this whole thing. I’m out of the loop on your life. I feel like I’m there for you or at least try to cause you don’t’ let me, and you never bother to be there for me, I’ve been going through a lot too at work and with my family.” After saying that you had no idea how this would go down. To be honest, recently you could never tell in which mood Mason would be. You did not blame him though, it has been incredibly hard for him, but you needed him as well.

After you said this his face, just said it all. “Y/n this whole year has been shit, I don’t need this” Ouch. You excepted different outcomes from this, but him not caring AGAIN was not one of them. “You don’t need what? Me? This relationship? To talk about it?” You were getting more and more upset, you felt like he was invalidating your feelings. “No, I don’t need more problems, I already have enough bullshit to deal with. I don’t talk to you about it because I know it will stress you out, more than you are already.” You scoffed hearing this. “Again, you don’t believe me fucking hell” “No I don’t Mason, how come you can open up and talk to your friends and not me?” Mason started grabbing his face and pacing around the room. He didn’t want to have this conversation, you could visibly tell. But you were adamant to figure out why he was being like this with you. “You are so selfish sometimes.” 

After everything you have done, for him to call you selfish was the tip of the iceberg. “Selfish!? Selfish? Are you being serious right now? Selfish because I want to feel like your fucking girlfriend again?!” “You are!” This was getting heated very quickly and you didn’t like it. What was supposed to be a nice dinner with him just turned into probably the biggest argument you two have ever had. “Mason” you tried calming yourself down to talk to him so he would do the same as well. “Listen, I feel the way I fee-“ “Do you like seeing me fail here to feel better about yourself? Is that what this is?” “What?” You were shocked. How did it go from you being selfish to know you wanting him to fail. It’s like both of you were throwing in everything, every single thought you two have had the past month because you haven’t been communicating. Being selfish was one thing, but him thinking that low of you hurt, specially because you have always rooted for him. “Where the hell did that come from?” You need to know if you did something to make him think that way, you were certain you hadn’t. “It doesn’t matter” he was about to walk to the main entrance of the house to go upstairs. “No, what is that about?” He stopped. He didn’t turn around, debating whether to keep arguing or just leave it and go upstairs. He finally turned around, “Jayden had that thought and…I don’t know I feel like now that you think I’m making the wrong decision maybe he is right” Jayden. The one friend of his that had some sort of vendetta against you. You were always nice to him, but he was a prick. You had your reasons to dislike him and Mason knew you two did not get along but you were not going to be that girlfriend that wants their boyfriend to cut someone off their lives. You were aware he didn’t like you too, why? He had always said Mason “settled” too quickly and he was too young to be “fucking around with just one girl”. Jayden loved going out, getting drunk and have a crazy night. Mason did not, but Jayden always thought it was you telling him not to go out drinking or something. 

You snapped back to reality. “Jayden? Out of all of your friends, you are going to believe Jayden? The guy who hates me for god knows what?” Mason was just blank, he was slowly realizing how ridiculous that sounded, especially since it was coming from someone who doesn’t really know you. But that, that was your tipping point. You felt like you had enough. First, being called selfish and now this. You wanted to cry, not because of the situation itself but because it hurt that after all the effort you’ve made to be there for him even thought you were having a hard time to, he would think like that. You gathered up the courage to say what you had to say, “well you know what, if you want to be talking to your friends about all of this and not me, go ahead. I’m done, and you can tell Jayden to go fuck himself, and so can you.” You walked up to the couch to grab your overnight bag, put your shoes and jacket on and leave. You did not want to be with him now. You felt like he was disrespecting you. He tried to stop you from leaving the kitchen. You realized that was not all you had inside you. 

“Y/n stop please, we can talk about this” just as you were about to open the front door, you decided to let it out. “Oh, now you want to talk. You want to believe what your friends say? Go ahead. I’ve been so patient Mason I really have. I’ve come here after every game to try and take your mind off it and the only way it worked was when it was sex, I’ve been trying for you to talk to me but no you have your stupid fucking friend, I’ve been trying to get you help and no you don’t need it and I’m worrying too much. I’ve been waiting for YOU to ask me how I am and actually care about my life as well but you haven’t cause you don’t. I’ve been feeling like a fucking ghost in your house and with you, all while I’ve felt like shit cause my job is killing me, I feel like I will literally break down any day now and I STILL make the fucking effort to come here because I know you are not okay after not winning another fucking game. So I am not selfish, I’m not against the idea of you leaving just because of me, I don’t like seeing you fail just to feel better about myself, I am just fucking tired of this and tired of feeling like shit and trying to figure out what the fuck I did wrong and if you still even love me because every time you’ve said it the last months it just sounds like you’re saying it out of habit. So, you figure out what you want, think whatever you want to think about me based on what your stupid friends say more specifically the same one that does not like me. I’m leaving.” It was like the weight of the world came off your shoulders. 

You never ever raise your voice or snap like this. But having felt so sad, unappreciated and just not loved made you say all of this. Mason just stood there listening to you. You tried getting all of it out without tearing up, but you couldn’t. You opened the door and left. Mason was hurt, he hated that you have felt that way for so long. He didn’t mean for it to become this huge. He knows he was wrong in assuming that of you, he knows he was wrong in believing something Jayden had said. He had no idea how was going to fix it, but he was determined to do it.

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #money mase #mm19 #football imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount imagine #footballer x reader #mason mount angst

[sisterofsomeone]

Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On a wedding day in Baldur’s Gate, a marriage is sealed with a sanctified bond. A powerful magic that allows your minds to meld and cannot ever be undone. It is also required to share your darkest secret for the bond to be bestowed. There is a common myth passed around that once, a very long time ago, a woman was tricked into marriage by a demon of sorts and only found out when they wed. Every wedding at that moment the room falls silent, waiting for another scream, another myth making secret to be revealed. You just never thought you would be witness to it.

Series Warnings: Wonwoo x fem!reader, slight Seokmin x fem!reader (because I can't help myself), established relationship/situationship, angst, fluff, swearing, drinking, smoking, there are references to end game BG3 and spoilers for the whole game so please proceed with caution! smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl, princess), oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, size kink, reader has a vagina that gets described as a pussy/cunt, slight dub-con for a second then clear consent, (more will be added as the series goes on!)

Word count: 3.5K

Author's note: Hello again! I was originally going to write this as a oneshot, but I just kept writing and writing and felt that I really wanted to try and flesh this world out. So, it's becoming a series! I cannot promise regular updates as I am in my final year of university, and start back up at my graduate job in september, but I am really enjoying writing this so I'm aiming for at least once a month, but maybe more. I do also have another series in the works which I want to post soon as well, so keep on the lookout for that one! I’ve never written anything like this before so bear with me if it’s not very good! Please enjoy, I really do hope this is entertaining for you, and have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening! Lots of love, Caitlin <3

This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to represent the actions, ideals, or attitude of the idol Jeon Wonwoo.

Baldur’s Gate. The jewel of the Sword Coast. Granted, you never knew there was supposedly a dragon sleeping under the city before the invasion, but still. A wonderful place to live. Life here was easier for someone like you, the eldest daughter of the Apothecary Merchant. Father had spent most of the money he made to dress you in the finest of clothes, hire chefs to teach you to make the finest of meals, and ensure you were surrounded by the best trained ladies in waiting possible. Status meant everything to him, and you knew you had to marry up to please him. Being the eldest of three girls, you were schooled in house making, cooking, mathematics, business, politics- anything and everything that would endear you to one of the knowledgeable and wealthy bachelors your father was hoping to wed you to. Your younger sisters however were afforded the luxury to follow their throws of passion and learn dance, music, or geography to teach and travel. You didn’t much care for home making, your fascination with the foul words in other languages usually left your tutor giggling after you begged her to teach you them. You were smart, quick with numbers and well versed in politics and business. It was something your father loved about you. The daughter that would lift them even higher in status. You were his political pawn.

You were with your mathematics tutor when she burst through the door. Your mother, her face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breaths.

“The- The King wants you to attend the ball.” She spoke. “The ball for the princes to choose their brides. He has called for you specifically.”

“Oh?” You didn’t so much as look away from your work, still toying away with the problems in front of you.

“Yes! Oh Gods girl, what are we to do with you?” Your tutor excused himself as your mother swanned towards the large windows. She was as dramatic a woman as you had ever met, and you loved her for it. Turning to face you, her dress billowed, and it struck you yet again how beautiful she was. You knew she used to be the catch; the young daughter of a cattle farmer swept into the Sword Coast by her wild fancies and taking Baldur’s Gate by storm. She married your father in a rather quickly arranged match, both being only 21 and your bump already starting to show through her clothes. She had always held a special place in your life, and the closeness in age only solidified your bond.

“You’re to help me avoid it. You know I want nothing to do with the royal family.” You raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on your lips as you turned another page in your book.

“It’s such a shame. You should go, if not for yourself but for me. It says and family and you know how much your sisters and I would love it!” Her fingers danced across the edge of the paper, twirling the red silk ribbon that used to hold the envelope closed as she read and reread the words.

“You know, there must be a specific reason they invited you. I heard only four girls and their families were invited specifically by name.” He voiced wavered, tone light, eyes meeting yours with that twinkle you knew meant trouble. Sometimes it felt like you were the parent in this.

“Will I need a new dress?” With that she squealed and swept you into her arms.

“Oh darling! You are going to love this!” Untangling her arms from around you she ran from the room and to the staircase.

“Girls! Darling! Come downstairs, your sister has an announcement!”

It was dark outside when you were finally allowed to rest. Your mother had dragged you and your sisters around every tailor in the city, eventually settling on a beautiful, glittered gown from the Facemaker’s that made it look like you were dripping in starlight. Your sisters marvelled at you, them seemingly more excited for your prospects than you were. As you stood before the full-length mirror, watching the way light danced across the dress you caught your own breath. You stood tall, the shimmering fabric laying against your body as if made solely for you. Your face now seemingly had the allure you always attributed to your mother, the colour of your eyes mirroring her own beautiful hue. It was the first time you felt a fraction as beautiful as her. That’s why you let your mother buy the dress, but you’d never tell her that.

The evening was warm as you took a book from the library and made your way to the balcony. Lighting the lamp on the table you slipped yourself onto the velvet covered seat and pulled the small blanket around your legs, hiking them up to your chest. It was here you sat, absorbed in the words of scholars until a small cough caught your attention. This was routine at this point, so you put your book down and pulled yourself from the seat, dangling a hand over the railing in front of you before leaning your head over. The man clasped your hand and smiled up at you.

It had all been an accident, you meeting Seokmin and Wonwoo. You weren’t supposed to be walking unescorted to Sorcerers’ Sundries, well technically you weren’t supposed to be walking there at all, but what Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You had stopped but for a moment to watch the magic show at the front entrance when you felt a hand dip into your pockets. You grasped their wrist and turned, only to be met with a small child.

“I’m-I’m so sorry miss, please let me go.” The tiny tiefling looked terrified, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. Immediately you dropped your guard, gaze softening and grip on their arm loosening.

“Child, no need to be scared I won’t call the Fists. But let’s not go picking anymore pockets hm?” They nodded, thanking you as they scurried away. Thats when you heard the laughter. Two tall men, eyes dark and trained directly on you and the scurrying child.

“What are you two laughing at huh?” The slightly broader one cocked an eyebrow at you, and the other pointed behind you. There you saw the scared tiefling, not so scared anymore as them and their friend – who you hadn’t noticed until now – were poking their tongues out at you as they waved a purse above their heads.

“That’s mine!” You shouted as they hurried off, tails wagging and giggles filling the dark streets.

“You fell for that hook line and sinker.” One of the hooded men let a plume of smoke escape his lips and curled them into a smile. “Are you new here or something?”

“No, no. Look at her, she’s a sheltered little princess I bet.” The other said, closing the distance between you and him. You finally got a good look at him. Dark eyes, golden tanned skin, a smile spread across his face that lit a fire in your stomach. He leaned down, face now only inches from yours. “Such a sheltered little princess, aren’t you?” There was an earthiness to him, a woody smell that danced under a zesty citrus. This was no commoner’s perfume.

“Who are you?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shone from below you on the balcony, that same smile lighting that spark deep in your soul. He was intelligent, worldly, but most of all, he was kind. He climbed up the balcony as usual, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you. It was hot, fiery and passionate. It always felt like he was swallowing you whole, devouring every part of you. He pushed you backwards, lowering you into the plush of the loveseat as his body covered your own. His mouth never left yours, tongue playing against your bottom lip as you gave him entrance. He moaned, fingers running through your hair and pulling, revealing the length of your neck to him. He kissed down it, careful not to leave any marks as he did so.

“My beautiful girl, my pretty girl.” His lips left a searing trail down to your chest, his hands trailing down your sides, bunching up your dress to reach your core.

“Wonwoo, baby, we can’t. Not tonight.” It was almost useless, his lips never stopped working against your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point. “Wonwoo, baby.” A whine left him that had a throb course through your body and set that flame burning.

“Don’t tell me to stop baby please.” He kissed you again, hands never stopping their assault on you. “Please don’t tell me I can’t play with my pretty girl’s pretty pussy.” His eyes darkened, teeth bit down harder, and you could almost feel the punctures from his canines.

“This pretty pussy has been invited to the King’s ball. This pretty pussy might have just been sold off by her ever-scheming father.” He stalled at this, hands stopping their assault and mouth leaving your skin.

“What?” His eyes were trained on yours as you swallowed thickly.

“We got the invitation today. Gods know how he did it. But he did.” Wonwoo moved off you, settling into the space beside you.

“Are you happy? With the idea I mean?” You let out a short laugh, cold and harsh.

“Happy? Why would I be happy? No one has ever seen them, been allowed near them, and what? I’m supposed to marry one of them. Be used as breeding stock. Finally put all this stupid training to use.” He laughed softly from beside you.

“You think this is funny? My life being sold off to the highest bidder and you laugh?”

“No! No, it’s not like that I promise.” His arms were around you again, pulling you into his chest. “I think there’s more to this than you know. Go to the party. You might be pleasantly surprised that’s all.” His lips were on yours again. “And no matter what happens, I’ll never let anyone else touch you the way I do.”

The morning broke through your curtains and the man beside you stirred. His chest was warm beneath your cheek as you kissed the arm draped around you.

“Darling, you must go before we get caught. Again.” He groaned, rolling the pair of you over, trapping you beneath him. That smile was back, softly lit by the warm glow of the sun pouring in through the windows. “Wonwoo, baby please.” His lips were soft against yours, pouring love into you like there was no tomorrow. His fingertips danced across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He rolled his hips into you, want evident at the broken gasp that left his lips. “Wonwoo baby.” You moaned out, fingers moving to his shoulder blades. He rolled his hips again, the slickness of your cunt allowing for him to rock smoothly and bump his cockhead into your clit. “Wonwoo, we can’t.” But your body gives you away, the roll of your hips as you shake beneath him has him lining up instantly.

“Princess, say no right now and I won’t do it. But say yes and I’ll give you a baby. I’ll fuck you so full it has no option but to stick. You’ll be mine.” Your lips chased his as you nodded frantically against him.

“Yes Wonwoo, yes yes yes.” He pushed in, cock stretching you as you raked your nails down his back. His thrusts were deep, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you.

“My princess wants a baby yeah? Wants me to fuck her full?” He growled into your ear, hips smashing into yours.

“Please, wanna make you a daddy.” You purred back. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers rubbing circle after circle into your swollen clit as you arched up into him. He never stopped kissing you, never stopped whispering praise into your mouth as you came around him.

“Please Wonwoo, want you to fill me up. Please.” You dug your nails into his skin, drawing a hiss from him. He’s panting, sweat lining his forehead as he thrust into you again and again, bringing you to orgasm over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. He pushes you over the edge again and again, having you crying his name into his mouth over and over as you beg for him to finish in you, mark you as his.

But he doesn’t. He pulls out as he always does and finishes onto your thigh. It’s over then, the light shifting to a cold blue as the sun shifts behind a cloud. He moves away from you, gathering his clothes and dressing.

“When will I see you again?” He pauses, eyes meeting your own.

“You won’t see me like this for a while. At least, not this version of me.” You don’t know what that means, but he doesn’t give you any time to ask as he kisses you again so softly. His hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as a tear falls from his face and onto yours. “But you will see me again, I promise.” As he pulls away, he places a final kiss on your forehead before stepping back towards your balcony. You let him go like you always do, but not without that horrible hole ripping through your chest.

The night of the ball drew closer, and there was no sign of Wonwoo or his brother. You were alone. The lessons ramped up, your father wanting there to be no chance of failure. You were his pawn, and he was so ready to make that final check. Your mother tried to get through the walls you put up, your sisters gushed every day about how lucky you were, how you were going to have the life of your dreams. But you weren’t. You wouldn’t be with Wonwoo. Wouldn’t be able to kiss him again, wouldn’t be able to hold him. You’d never be able to make him a dad.

“Your invitation madam?” Your mother was positively glowing with excitement, your sisters each hanging off one of your arms, you suspect to stop you from running. Your mother presents the invitation, and the guard cocks an eyebrow. “Please, this way for special guests.” You were escorted towards a separate entrance, a large pair of white wooden doors beset by giant boars on each side. The doors were parted for you, and the entrance was the most beautiful you’d ever seen. You were ushered inside, your sisters gasping and pointing at the artwork lining the walls. But your eyes were drawn to the three other girls.

“They’re your competition child.” Your father pulled you aside from your sisters and scanned you from head to toe. “But you’ve got a brain to best all of them. Be smart, be strong. Be the girl I raised you to be.” You glanced back over to them. Each one you knew to be a member of one of the aristocracies, as you were. You vaguely remember having a run in with the half-elf, but if she remembered you, she gave nothing away in the cold gaze she returned.

“If everyone is now here?” A voice sounded from the stairs above you. Your eyes followed where it was coming from, and the woman you saw standing there was the most beautiful you had ever seen. Dark eyes, with even darker hair cascading down her back that held soft curls that bounced as she began to walk towards you all. You had never seen this woman before, but something pulled at you from your stomach as if you recognised her.

“You are all chosen specifically by the princes themselves. My sister's sons wouldn’t allow for our intervention, so feel very lucky. Some of you would never have made it this far.” Her eyes fell on you at this, and your father bristled beside you. “Now, if you’ll follow me.” She sauntered towards the large doors across the marbled floors. You moved to follow the queen's sister, silently cursing yourself for not recognising her as your legs pulled you along before your brain could think of a reason to turn and run. She demanded that the girls line up, manhandling you all into a line with you left on the end. Your families were to follow along behind, and not say a word.

There was a commotion behind the doors, music filled whatever room you were about to be ushered into and laughter and conversations could barely be heard through these giant doors. You tried to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles of your dress, hands moving on their own as you chewed on your bottom lip.

There was a moment of silence before the doors swung open, and an even longer moment of silence when all the eyes in the ballroom fell upon you. Your gaze flitted from person to person, not a single face you couldn’t put a name to. Families with daughters much better suited for this match burned holes into your skull from jealousy. You were standing there, with the whole world at your fingertips and their daughter wasn’t.

You were ushered down the steps before you, the sea of people parting as the four of you made your ways forward. Your eyes were on the floor as you had been instructed to do so, never for a second daring to look upon the men sitting at the other end of the ballroom.

“This is the half-elf Carmae of the Boat Merchant.” You were right about recognising her then.

“This is the high elf Dauphine of the Gold Merchant.” You heard her light steps, the small “Hello sirs.” that sounded so beautiful falling from her lips as she greeted the men.

“This is the wood elf Avalynne of the Cloth Merchant.” You were next.

“This is the human Y/n of the Apothecary Merchant.” You stepped forward, curtseying as you were taught, eyes moving up to acknowledge the men before you.

“Hello sirs-“ Those eyes. That smile. Wonwoo sat before you, hand rested on his chin as he surveyed you. You felt a churning in your stomach as you let your eyes fall upon Seokmin beside him. His soft curls sat upon his head as he smiled ever so softly at you.

“We can now begin.” The music started up again as the crowd of people swallowed you up. Your sisters beamed at you as people swarmed you. They wanted to know where you got your dress “The Facemaker.” You politely replied. Who did your hair? “My mother wanted to.” You smiled at them. You were pulled from conversation to conversation. Every family wanted a piece of you. But your mind was back on Wonwoo. Your heart calling out to him across the floor.

His eyes followed you, dark and cold like you’d never seen them before.

“Wonwoo, calm down. She’s yours I’m not going to take her.” Seokmin leant over to his older brother, giggling slightly at the older man’s demeanour.

“I know you’re not. But they might.” He followed his brother’s gaze to the men being introduced to you by their fathers. “It seems like being the prince’s chosen gives a girl a certain…” His eyes scanned the crowd of men now surrounding you. Your father ever so keen to get you introduced to as many of them as possible. You were trying to be amicable, that soft smile on your face hiding the discomfort you felt. The burn of jealousy coursed through his veins as he watched you laugh and smile at these fools. If only they knew what he’d done to you, the noises he could pull from you with just his tongue or fingers. The way you beg him to cum in you, the tears in your eyes as he fucks you through another orgasm. You’d be too much for those idiots, they couldn’t make you feel how he did. Couldn’t make your body react the way he did.

“The princes will now have their first dance with each of the chosen.” Wonwoo and Seokmin stood, and the floor was cleared again. You finally found yourself walking back towards the man who held your heart in his hands and smiled. Wonwoo noticed that it finally reached your eyes.

“It is lovely to meet you Y/n.” He placed a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“It is my honour sir.” You smiled even wider this time as he drew you closer as the music began.

“I hope you’re a good dancer.” He flashed you that dazzling smile once more as the music began up again.

“I hope you are too sir.” You felt the flush creep up your cheeks as the two of you started to dance. Your eyes glued to his as he led you across the floor, his never once leaving yours. You finally got what he meant that morning. While this was a surprise, you’d help him play the part for as long as it took to get your Wonwoo back.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #seventeen wonu #svt wonu #wonwoo #wonu #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonu #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #seventeen royalty au #svt royalty au

[wosowrites]

Legacy’s Daughter (Leah Williamson x Reader)

warnings: none

a/n: probably the shortest fic i’ve ever written. based off this request:

prompt: in which leah is dating the daughter of one of the old lionesses and the reader goes with her mother to get her legacy cap.

Your mother was Kelly Smith. Yeah, the Kelly Smith. She had adopted you at only 24 year old. The adoption was out of the blue, and quite random to the fans, but you meant everything to her.

It also just so happened that Leah Williamson was a pretty big fan of Kelly. Having done the walkout with the former english captain as a young girl.

In August of 2022, at a Euros celebration party, you had met Leah for the first time. At the time, you were 20 and Leah was 24. Things had gotten a little wild, there was a lot of alcohol involved, and then an unplanned hookup. But after that night, when the alcohol wore off, you couldn’t brush the feeling of wanting to see her again.

Today, 8 months later, you and Leah were dating. The lionesses knew, so did your mother, but your relationship stayed private from the fans for now.

You sat in the drivers seat of your mothers car, driving up to St-George’s park. Today, she would receive her legacy cap.

You pulled up in the parking lot and then looked over to your mother. "Mum?" You said gently. "Yes sweetheart?" She asked, putting her phone down. "I’m really grateful for you. You had no reason to adopt me when you were so young. But you did, and you kept on captaining England and I’m so lucky to have you. And i’m really proud you’re my mum." You said to her.

Your mother smiled at you and leaned it to hug you, holding her close to you. "Okay. Let’s go get that cap." You smiled at her. "You just want to see your girlfriend." Kelly laughed. "I do." You answered.

You had always been close with your mother, she was the best mother ever. The perfect balance of being parent like and your best friend.

You walked in together, photographers already taking pictures. The second you found yourselves in the large futsal gym, you took in your surroundings. Multiple tables with dozens of red legacy caps, a bunch of former and current lionesses, and in the middle of it all, your girlfriend.

You walked up to her, tapping her on the shoulder and making her look away from her friends. "Baby!" She said happily. She wrapped her arms around your waist and spun you around as you wrapped your arms around her neck. "I’m happy to see you" she said into your hair. "You saw me yesterday." You giggled. "And i’m happy to see you again."

You let go of her and smiled at her, taking in her features instead of kissing her.

She took in yours and then you had to look away to not be too suspicious due to the cameras everywhere.

The ceremony started soon enough, they called the names of different former lionesses, and eventually, it was your mothers turn. You clapped loudly and whooped as she walked up to get her hat. As current captain, Leah placed it on her head and gave her a quick hug and a smile.

Leah gave a speech at the end of the hat distribution, and then came over to you. "I’m happy you came with Kelly." Leah said to you, putting her arm around your shoulders. "Me too. Life’s really crazy. She would never have known that the girl she walked out with that one game when you were like… 8 would end up being her daughters girlfriend. And the best captain englands ever had." You said to her. "Woah! Dont let your mum hear that." Leah laughed. "Hey! There my words but there also hers. She always says it. You’re the best Englands ever seen, Leah." you told your girlfriend.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #arsenal fcw #leah williamson #woso one shot #engwnt #lionesses #kelly smith

[lovingperfectionsblog]

Fix it.

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader

Summary: Hangman offers to help Bob with a crush he has on the Hard Decks barmaid. 

Warnings: Swearing, degradation of women, use of the term slut, mentions of sex, degradation during sex, mild mention of wanting to crash a plane, misogyny, inaccuracies about women and daddy issues, throwing a drink in someone's face, the term bumping uglies is used and I feel like that should be a warning.  

Word Count: 4003

Author's note: So, this is the first time I have ever written for Top Gun, I know nothing about the military, so please forgive me. But, here it is, and I hope you all like it. Also, I obviously do not believe the nonsense about women and daddy issues or any of the other degrading things said about women, It is all to further the story. Please remember to be kind. And remember, do not tolerate, let alone fall for, anyone who degrades you! 

____

“So, tell me little Bobby Boy”, the chair squeaked across the linoleum floor as Hangman turned it around, taking a seat across from Phoenix and Bob, who were clearly engaged in a private conversation, “were my eyes deceiving me or were you blushing when you were talking to Penny’s new pretty little barmaid?” Neither the scowl on Phoenix’s face nor the blush on Bob’s could be prevented, and these both deepened the smirk on Hangmans. 

“What’s it to you Bagman?” There were very specific moments Bob was thankful for Phoenix, and intercepting hangman when they all knew he was about to get too much was one of them. The ever deepening crush on ‘Penny's new pretty little barmaid’ was something Bob was hoping to just, kind of, get through. He was well aware that this was something that was never going to happen and he needed it to blow over, now. 

So Phoenix sitting here quietly trying to encourage him to ask for your number was not helping squash any and all hope he had that he MIGHT get the courage to ask, but now he also had Bagman asking questions on top of it? What happened to the days where no one noticed him?

“Well, you see, I myself had my eyes on her, but the second I saw Baby On Board over here looking redder than Rooster after a game of DogFight, I knew I had to do my good deed of the week and help my man out over here.” Phoenix felt her annoyance rise the longer she stared at that godforsaken toothpick hanging out of his mouth. Bobby didn’t need help, not from Hangman at least. 

“I’ve got it, but thanks Bagman” Phoenix twisted in her chair, fully facing Bob’s side profile now, the man in question focusing on a spot on the table in front of him, hoping they’d forget he was even there at this point while he tried to get his own blushing under control. 

“Ah! So he does have a crush on her!” Hangman's voice carried across the room causing the other Daggers to start paying more attention to what was happening in the once seemingly quiet corner of the room. 

“Who has a crush on who now?” Rooster made his way over, mimicking Hangman as he took the chair next to him and spun it round, heaving himself into it as he waited for an explanation. Coyote, Fanboy and Payback all sauntered after him, the entire table now surrounded, Bob’s head dropping even lower, eyes scrunched shut, refusing to push his glasses further up his nose from where they had begun slipping down in fear of moving and drawing attention to himself. 

“Bob has a crush on the new barmaid” Hangmans gaze hadn’t left Phoenix’s glaring eyes and that shit eating grin had yet to leave his face. 

“Oh shit! No wonder he was so willing to get the drinks Friday night then.” a large hand came down on the table in front of them, the loud noise causing Bob to jump, a bewildered (and very red looking face) turning to Phoenix, a silent plea to get them out of this situation. 

“Well, yes, but we don’t need-” Phoenix tried, she really did, but when these men got in on information like this, it was hard to get them out of it again. 

“So, when are you making your move?” Fanboys' question was innocent enough, but considering he was one of the few pilots that knew Bob a little better than the rest, just after Phoenix, it was a fairly dumb question and the alarmed look on Bob's face was indication enough of that. 

And if the look on Bob’s face wasn’t enough, the look of exasperation on Phoenix’s was. 

“We were working on getting Bob to that point before Hangman over here,” an accusatory finger was thrown in the offender's direction, “interrupted me”. 

“And here I was to extend a helping hand. It’s kind of seeming like you aren’t all that appreciative of that help here Bobby Boy” the entire table, other than Phoenix (again, thank you Phoenix), was now staring directly at Bob. 

“That’s a little rude of you Bob” Cyotes voice could be heard behind him. 

Roosters popping up next, “Yeah Bob, the man’s just trying to help.” 

“Since when are you siding with Bagman of all people!” Phoenix couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How had all of these men, who seemingly couldn't stand Hangman, suddenly be siding with him. 

“Since he knows how to work women. The least Bob could do would be to hear him out.” Payback tried to offer a voice of reason, knowing that when it came to Phoenix and Hangman though, it was probably falling on deaf ears. 

“Work women! Are you hearing yourself?” She needed to get Bob out of here quickly. 

“Listen, he has a point. Just, the goal is to get Bob and this girl together-” Rooster began before Phoenix interrupted him. 

“No, the goal is to get him to have courage to ask for her number.” 

“You’re thinking too small. Bobby’s a good looking guy, we can get him laid.” Bobs head shot up, wide eyes meeting Hangman’s own, more relaxed face, which was now looking directly at him, “So, what do you say? Want big ol’ Hangman's help to get you laid?” 

“I don’t, it’s not really like that.” Bob muttered out weakly. I mean, yes, the thought of potentially bedding you was definitely something he didn’t want to discount, but it was more than that. 

He wanted to date you. He wanted to ask for your number and talk to you for two weeks to a month over the phone and at the Hard Deck and then he wanted to ask you on a real date. And then he wanted to go on more dates and he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend and then well, if in any of that you thought he deserved it, yeah, he wanted to bed you. If he ever got the courage to do any of that, but that’s what he wanted. That was the game plan. 

“Of course it’s like that. Do you or do you not want to bump uglies?” The round of ew’s did nothing to deter Hangman from the question. 

“I, well, of course I want to bed her.” Bob couldn't help but beg for the ground beneath him to open up and so he could just fall into it, but Bob also knew that he rarely got so lucky. 

“Bed her?” 

“He means ‘fuck’ Bagman” 

“Ah, thank you Rooster. But also, bed her? Seriously? Even bump uglies sounds better than that.” Hangman knew he was just getting a rise out of Bob at this point, the kick beneath the table directly into his shin from Phoenix a sharp warning to drop it, “Regardless, you’ve got our help there friend. Don’t you worry, I’ll have her eating out of your hand by the end of the night, that is a guaranteed promise.”

“Bob, listen, this is a bad idea. This is Hangman for gods sake, do you honestly think this is going to go well?” Phoenix was trying her best to dissuade him from agreeing to Hangmans help. 

Bob swung his gaze between the two pilots, completely unsure of what to do. On one hand, Hangman did kind of know what he was doing when it came to women. He was frequently leaving the Hard Deck with them to get up to what Bob can only assume was some pretty disgusting activities, but on the other hand, Phoenix was completely right, this was Hangman they were talking about, one of the most cocky and degrading men any of them had ever known. 

But he needed to make a call, and desperate times call for desperate measures, and Lord knows Bob was desperate for you to notice him.  

“What do I need to do?” It was almost a whisper directed at Hangman followed by a groan from Phoenix and a round of cheers from the others. 

“Bobby, you will not regret this, I promise you, and honestly, I’m willing to start your lessons on women right here, right now.” He swung towards Phoenix, his smile so wide Phoenix had to do everything physically possible not to wipe it off with her fist. 

“The most important thing you need to remember when it comes to women,” Hangman was now looking back at Bob, who was leaning forward, attentive as always, praying this would be the lifeline he needed when it came to you, “they love what they think they can’t have and they LOVE it when you call them a slut.” The sound of Hangman and Coyotes hands meeting in a high-five was heard, shortly followed by a chair being shoved away from the desk they were currently sitting at as Phoenix rose to her feet. 

“Jesus, Bob, don’t you dare come crawling to me when this goes balls up.” With one final scowl directed at hangman she was leaving the group of men, a last middle finger thrown up as a “Bye Phoenix” was shouted after her from the cockiest pilot known to man, deciding to leave whatever this mess was alone for good. 

_____

“So you decided to come anyway?” Rooster asked as Phoenix settled next to him, watching the pool game happening between Fanboy and Payback, both pilots taking a sip of their individual beers.

“Came to see the shit show.” Her eyes landed on Bob and Hangman in the corner. The latter vividly talking as if he was instructing a boxer in the corner of the ring before their next round. 

“I know you have your doubts, but Hangman can actually be a good man. He isn’t trying to hurt Bob, he’s just trying to help as best as he knows how.” Rooster just shrugged as Phoenix let out a sigh, both knowing what he had just said was completely true. 

“I know, but God, saying women like to be called a slut?” she threw Rooster a disapproving look, concerned at the smile on her friends face. 

“He explained it to Bob after you left. He meant it purely from a sex perspective. Like, you know when you’re going at it and you say ‘such a good little slut, just for me’ kind of vibe? None of us actually think women are sluts, especially not the ones willing to sleep with us. Honestly, we’re all just really thankful they are willing to even sleep with us.” Rooster tried to placate Phoenix. 

“Even Hangman?” She wasn’t going to stop until he had been knocked down a peg or two. 

“You didn’t hear it from me, but especially Bagman. He speaks like that to get a rise out of you, but honestly, he’s actually terrifyingly respectful. I'm pretty sure he even hates calling women anything degrading in bed. I think he’d prefer to be called something gross and degrading now that I think about it.” Rooster could only shrug at the alarmed look Phoenix had given him at the new i information he had casually dropped on her, “You know that bullshit that women with daddy issues like to be degraded? Well, I never met anyone with bigger daddy issues than Bagman over there, and that’s coming from me.” A knowing look following the statement.

Phoenix couldn't find a surface to place her beer fast enough before she was letting out a full belly laugh at what Rooster had just told her, her drink spilling all over her hand as she tried to picture Hangman of all people begging a woman to call him her pretty little slut. She hated that Rooster made sense, but yeah, it fit. Suddenly she felt like she understood Hangman just that much better. 

Suddenly Coyote was rushing into the little section the dagger squad had carved out for themselves, “Shut up! She’s coming! Act natural!”

“We can shut up or we can act natural, you gotta choose here bud” Hangman was the first to address the confusion caused by their friend, “Bob, it’s your time to shine, here she comes”, a final clap on the back and Hangman was making his way over to Rooster and Phoenix to watch how well his own little protege did trying to pick up you up. 

As Bob watched you walk over with their drinks all neatly lined up on a tray, he tried to calm himself down, replaying all the lessons Hangman had taught him in his mind, reminding himself he could actually do this. 

This was all just to get your attention. 

You just needed to know he existed. 

Women like what they can't have. 

Women liked being called a slut. 

Yes, that was it. That's what Hangman had said. 

Why was he so sweaty? 

Women like what they can't have. 

Women liked being called a slut. 

“You look like a slut.” 

A silence descended over the entire area. All eyes, wide, now focusing on Bob. Music was the only thing that could be heard between any of them. No one is willing to move out of fear alone. 

Although to him, all he could hear was his own blood pounding in his ears, nerves fully taking over. But he did it and now he was just waiting for you to fall at his feet, at least, that's what Hangman told him would happen. 

Although this, this felt wrong. He had messed up. He knew he had messed up somehow, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough for him to figure it out. 

“Excuse me?” You were the first to speak up after Bob’s faux pas. 

“Oh, I said, you look like a slut.” From there, the entire group watched events unfold in slow motion. 

“No Bob! It’s -” Before Hangman could interject, you’d already thrown a drink over him. Bob covered head to toe in someone's beer, “rhetorical.” 

“Get out Bobby Floyd!” Your look was icy, finger pointed towards the Hard Decks doors. 

“Yes Ma’am.” Bob knew better than to argue with you. He immediately got up, head down, tail between his legs and made his way to the doors, praying he could get out of there as quickly as possible, making promises that he’d never step foot into the Hard Deck again, mentally figuring out how to crash his plane tomorrow.  

Hangman could feel Phoenix seething next to him, against his better judgment he turned to look at her only to find her already staring holes into him, “You have 24 hours to fix it Hangman, before I shoot you out of the sky myself,” and with that she was gone, following Bob outside, but not before she was profusely apologizing to you, promising that this was not Bob.  

_____

Bob isn’t sure how Phoenix had convinced him to come to the Hard Deck tonight, but here he was outside its doors, breathing deeply as he tried to convince himself to step inside. 

And if he happened to see you, well, the written out three page apology was ready. He had no shame in groveling if it got you to forgive him. 

One last deep breath and he made his way in, beelining for the pool table where he knew Phoenix was waiting for him. He couldn’t give a damn about anyone else there, actively making the choice to ignore every single one of them. He knew technically it wasn’t their fault, it was him, he was the one who had messed it up, but this felt right. 

And if he had gotten an extra confidence boost from telling Bagman to fuck off the next day at work in front everyone, well, that was no one else’s business but his. 

The air was awkward, everyone could feel it, everyone was being extra nice to him and despite him being polite, he was still avoiding actually entertaining conversation with anyone else except Phoenix, until “Hey Bob, you need a drink, go get one.” He glared at Hangman, the other pilot only shrugging his shoulders, nudging his head in the direction of the bar. 

“Go, I know you don’t trust him, but trust me, go get your drink.” It was Phoenix, giving him a slight push off his stool. As he made his way to the bar, already getting his apology pages out of his pocket, he noticed the entire dagger squad quietly watching him make his way over. He felt bitter, but he knew that he had to do this. He was ready to beg. 

“Bob,” it was Penny leaning over the bar, lemonade in hand, a smirk firmly plastered on her face as she handed it over to him, “I think you owe this bar a round of drinks considering last week's indiscretion.” 

“Ma’am, a round of drinks for the bar is probably the least I could do considering what I did,” Bob ran a hand over his face as Penny cackled, making her way over to the bell, its humiliating ring sounding throughout the bar, all the patrons giving a loud cheer as the prospect of a free drink from a stranger who had somehow wronged the bar owner. 

“Who fucked up this time Pen?” Your voice sounded out as you made your way back around the bar from the kitchen, clearly not having noticed Bob yet, but when you did, a smile a mile wide graced your face and Bob felt both humiliated and blessed all at once, “Ah, I assume this is penance for his sins of last week?” You and Penny shared a knowing look, and Bob wished he was in on the joke instead of the butt of it. 

“And he will be paying for it.” Penny let out one more laugh as she slapped the top of her bar and gave a quick look around at how full her bar was this evening, knowing this was going to take a hefty chunk out of Bob's money, throwing Bob a wink as she left you two to talk. 

“I’m sorry.” Bob wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. He had felt awful all week and he needed to make amends and find out how he could fix this as soon as he could. 

“Why on earth would you get Hangman to help you get  a girl's number?” Bob froze, you knew. You knew he had needed someone else's help to try and flirt with you. He might not have crashed his plane last week, but tomorrow, it was definitely happening tomorrow. 

“I will regret doing that until the day I die.” Bob groaned out as you watched him squirm in front of you, a laugh leaving you once again at his misery, “He is possibly the worst person I have ever met in my entire life.” 

“Hey, he’s not that bad, considering the groveling he did this week and all.” You shrugged as you continued to wipe down the bar in front of you. 

“What groveling?” Bob hadn’t heard anything about Hangman groveling, but when he threw a look towards his fellow aviators, the shy smile on all their faces, Hangmans in particular, showed that maybe they had been in his corner all along, even if he had messed up as badly as he did. 

“Well, after you told me I looked like a slut,” Bob felt the humiliation flood him again, “Hangman profusely apologized and the lot of them had explained that you may have a crush on me and were just super nervous to ask for my number, so he had offered to coach you and that you may have gotten just a little nervous and duffed it a little bit.” 

“That may have been exactly what happened.” Bob chanced a look at you, the soft smile you sported gave him hope that maybe you weren’t all that mad with him after Hangman had pulled his weight to remedy the situation, “And I think duffed it a little bit is the understatement of the century.” 

“Oh Bobby Floyd, I was just trying to be polite, but you completely fucked it. Didn’t anyone tell you that you only call a girl a slut while you’re busy rawing her from behind?” If Bob didn’t already look like a loser in front of you, him choking on his spit and face going even redder than it already was at the thought of ‘rawing you’ did not do him any favors. 

“Ma’am, I will never call a woman a slut, ever again, under any circumstances, I can promise you that.” Bob had made this promise the second he had said the word to you last week, but this just solidified it to him. 

“Oh, well, that’s a bit of a pity, I was kind of hoping after our third date, you might be willing to while you bed me.” Bob was sure his heart stopped. 

“Date?” It was all he could get out. If he didn’t want to make more of a fool of himself, this was all he was willing to get out. 

“Yeah, the date Hangman offered to pay for, after that first one though, it’s on us.” You were enamored with the look of wonder on his face as you told him you’d be going on a date with him. 

“You’re seriously willing to go on a date with me after everything?” In lieu of an answer, you instead just glanced down to the napkin Bob hadn’t even seen you place in front of him, your name and number scrawled on it, all nice and neat just for him, “I promise it will be the best and most expensive date you ever go on.” The look of absolute shock never leaving his fae=ce as he immediately pocketed your number, not willing to jinx anything more. 

“Oh I bank on it being the most expensive date we ever go on, I mean, it’s the least we can do to thank Hangman for his lesson.” With that you swung your cloth over your shoulder, “I look forward to your call Bobby Floyd.” and with one last wink you were making your way to the other side of the bar to help Penny with the ever increasing amount of patrons swamping the bar for a free drink. 

As Bob stood there with possibly the biggest smile on his face, he felt a nudge to his shoulder, seeing his Captain with a small smile of his own, “Mav”, he greeted with a nod of his head, receiving one in return, embarrassed that his superior had to hear all that. 

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop Bob, but did she just use the term ‘bed you’ when telling you she hoped you’d call her a slut while you sleep with her?” Mav didn’t really care what term she used, in truth, he was just sure Bob hadn’t even really registered she’d said it at all, and honestly, he was rooting for Bob, he wanted him to know that he hadn’t completely fumbled the bag when it came to you. 

“Bed me?” Bob hadn’t even fully registered what Mav had said before he heard Rooster behind him. 

“He means ‘fuck’ Bob” 

And for the second time, Rooster had to watch Bob end up with a drink all over him at the Hard Deck, this time though it was infinitely funnier as he watched Bob spill his own lemonade all over himself in shock. 

“Did she see that?” Bob’s eyes were closed, refusing to look at you. 

“She definitely saw that” Rooster couldn’t lie, flashing a smile to you as he turned Bob away, “Go, run,” shoving Bob back in the direction of their friends, but Bob couldn’t even find himself to be embarrassed this time as he pulled your number out the closer he got, waving it like a flag as all his friends cheered him on, dripping, covered in lemonade and with your number clutched in his hand. 

#top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #top gun bob floyd #top gun bob #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob fluff #robert 'bob' floyd #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #robert floyd x reader #bob top gun #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd x reader #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #bob floyd imagine #hangman seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin #x reader

[ashtonlc3]

Severitus/Sevitus Fic Rec

Thought I’d share my own personal fic list that I’ve complied over time featuring Snape and Harry developing some kind of father-son relationship, all the way through either bio-dad, adoption, guardian or mentorship. All of these fics are COMPLETE because after OME leaving me on the world’s biggest cliff hanger and losing the fic for many months because I’m an idiot, I have serious WIP trust issues. They’re also usually really long because I love angsty, slow-burn fics.

I started taking in-depth notes while I read through fics a while ago so that I would NEVER lose a favourite fic again (the title of one of my favs is in Latin, so I never remember what it’s called). And also because I have a terrible memory so remembering what happened in each fic is quite difficult for me. Assuming I know how to count there should be over 16 fics listed here.

I’ve also rated each fic out of 10 and added a couple of notes for each fic (I didn’t add any with a rating of 5 or lower cause these are meant to be recommendations not a reading log). I’ve put them in order of how much I liked them, 10 and 9s being my equivalent to an Outstanding, 8 and 7 an Exceeds Expectations and a 6 an Acceptable.

TW: As is usually the case with Severitus, ALL of these fics have some degree of child abuse in them, courtesy of the Dursleys, with various degrees of intensity.

O Mine Enemy By Kirby Lane 10/10

You’ve probably already read this one because it is legendary in the Severitus genre and a staple for any fic list. In the event that you haven’t, you SHOULD read it ASAP. Starts summer of sixth year. 

TW addiction/substance abuse

Victus per Reproba Monumentum By firefly5151 9/10

For a long time I didn’t read anything that had Sev as Harry’s bio dad, it felt implausible, OOC and just was not as good as the guardian/mentor trope. That is until I read this fic, and now the bio-dad trope is my favourite. This fic is the Snape of Severitus, there are a LOT of flaws but I love it anyway. The plot is a bit questionable, it has manipulativeDumbledore (which I don’t like in fics) and Ron and Hermione pretty much forget Harry exists. BUT the emotional journey is amazing, and really angsty. Starts during summer of 6th year.

The Subterfuge By Murai-Sakura 9/10

This fic is on the newer side having been written in 2020. My first time reading this fic I had a few mixed feelings about it which made me reluctant to read it again despite really liking it. Reading it again for the second time I can’t understand what past Ash’s problem was because it was magnificent. Granted I remember it being darker than it actually is (it may have been due to me reading The Hunger Games in-between, who knows). I’m rambling, in short I think I liked this one a little more than A Year Like None Other. The plot is unique enough that the story doesn’t feel like your reading a rehash of every Severitus fic ever while still hitting the emotional points necessary for a satisfying fic. It’s definitely more mentor than father figure and is set during fifth year so watch out for Umbridge.

TW suicide attempt and graphic child abuse 

A Year Like None Other By aspeninthesunlight 9/10

Another classic whose reputation speaks for its-self, written before HBP came out and is also insanely long. I’ve actually never read the sequals either because one was enough for me and it’s in Draco’s pov. It also has the added bonus of brother bonding between Draco and Harry. Set during 6th year. 

TW self harm and graphic torture

Perception is Everything By Kendra James 8/10

This was one of the first few Severitus fics I ever read so it has a very special place in my heart despite the plot being a very standard Severitus setup. Set Christmas 6th year, Snape finds out about the Dursleys abuse when Harry gets sick over Christmas break.

You've forgotten who I am By CastlePheonix 8/10

I’ve only read this one once so I’m taking past Ash’s word for it. Set during 5th year, a what if Snape actually hit Harry with the jar after the Pensieve incident. Harry gets temporary amnesia and spends some time in Spinner’s End with Snape. 

TW addiction/substance abuse

Whelp & Whelp II - The Wrath of Snape By jharad17 7/10

The standard run down; the Dursleys are dicks, Sev finds out. This is pre-Hogwarts (7 years old) so you know Harry is going to be adorable and clingly. Vernon has Harry tied up in the yard like a dog.

Namesake Necklace By WiCeBa 7/10

This fic is a little more recent I think. Set summer before the start of 5th year, Harry and Dudley are de-aged. This ones quite the adventure and Sirius is still alive so you know there’s gonna be a fight over Harry.

What I Must Ask You To Do By VeraRose19 7/10

Set at the end of GOF and continues into 7th year. This story is not just a Severitus but also an exploration of the blossoming friendship between Severus and Sirius as they co-parent Harry together. The story is far fluffier than it is angsty and relies quite heavily on canon for plot whilst also taking out the adventure and death toll. It’s more a fluffy, canon, best case scenario than an angsty, slow-burn fic.

Emerald eyes By JadeSullivan 7/10

I cannot remember this one at all so once again I’m taking past Ash’s word for it. This is set during 2nd year and does feature corporal punishment.

Prisoners By Whitetail 7/10

Harry is de-aged to 4 and Sev has partial paralysis. So they stay at a little cottage by the sea. Hermione features quite heavily in this one, both her and Harry end up with Sev gaining guardianship of them.

To Recollect the Future By oliversnape  7/10

When Harry is hit with the killing curse in DH Harry and Sev are sent back to first yeah. Harry and Sev pretty much spend the whole fic Horcrux hunting, its a fun bonding experience.

In plain sight & Close to the Chest By waitingondaisies 7/10

This is always a fun one. Set during 6th year, Sev found out as a spy so Albus turns him into a 16 year old Gryffindor and gives him an embarrassing name. Seriously Albus, Alfonse “Eli” Hopkirk, really? 

Time Left Today By gzdacz 7/10

Sev and Harry are on the run after Quirrell is killed by an 11 year old. The road trip is quite fun although I don’t really like the ending too much though.

The Trouble with Polyjuice By LilyEvansDouble 6/10

2nd year. Features Snape as Harry’s biological father after the Polyjuice incident.

Summer of Bonding By Magica Draconia 6/10

This one is set after PS as the Dursley never pick Harry up from Kings Cross so Harry stays with Snape. Snape collects horse figurines in this one and is very heavily featured in this story. So its a bit too niche for my liking but otherwise still a good read.

And that’s all I got. I’ll probably come back to this list (yeah cause I forgot to put in tags) and add more fics as I read them. (When I add new fics I’ll reblog this post with a change log so you don't need to read through the list again to figure out what’s been changed.) My TBR is usually just as long so ... to forever be continued.

#severitus #severitus fic #sevitus

[onestepbackwards]

Y'know, I'm curious. I know you've been doing a lot of self aware Pokémon HCs, so something I wanna know is if you've ever done Self Aware N before. This isn't a request by any means, but just being curious if you've ever written our beloved christmas tree being self aware at all.

N: So... you're telling me that on top of my entire life being a lie in regards to my father and his team's beliefs, it's also completely fake and my entire purpose in this sick game is to entertain you? Is that it?

Player: ...Yeah pretty much, but I love you💕

N: ...

N: Well shit. If the almighty says they love me, who am I not to love them back?

Poor boy would be CLINGING to the only "real" person in his life after that

N would be such an interesting character to be self aware! I dont think I’ve written him self aware?? But 👀

He’s already dealing with so much, so suddenly being snapped to self awareness, or slowly becoming aware, are things that could be quite a shock for him.

Whether he knows right away when you start a new game, or becomes so over a playthrough, its such an interesting thing.

Imagine he goes through everything in the story of Black and White

How he grows and learns, and how his relationship with the player character evilves until the end.

And then he wakes up. He’s in the castle again, and Ghestsis is back, as if nothing happened.

He tries to shake it off as some dream, only for his fears to almost choke him when he sees the player character again ‘for the first time.’

But he notices something. How their face is blank. Eyes empty.

He tries to ask what’s going on, but his feet are walking for him, and suddenly words are pouring from his mouth. Familiar words he said on his own last time. Now they feel forced from his throat.

And then he’s in a battle.

This time though, something is different.

Their pokemon are different. A different level, maybe a different gender, maybe a whole new team.

He fights, but his attention is elsewhere. He swears he sees something flicker behind Them. For a split moment, he swears he sees a screen, and a face.

“Ah… I hope I’m not too under-leveled for this challenge. I should have leveled up a bit more…”

He thinks that Hilbert/Hilda is speaking, but their mouth never moves. Its as if its coming from around him.

“Oh well. It will at least be a challenge this time! Battling N is always a treat.”

N feels sick. His hands are sweaty, and his pokemon, his friends, are so oddly quiet.

The battle is over in what feels like seconds. Before he can even ask what’s going ok, his feet are moving, and he’s talking once more.

Words he’s already spoken fall from his lips. No matter how he tries to stop them, he can’t.

He doesn’t believe this anymore! Why is this happening? Why can’t he stop? Move! Move. Move…!

And then he does. His feet move on their own, all the way back home. He can finally breathe again, but at what cost?

Until he figures out what is going on, he’s trapped in his own personal nightmare. Especially when Ghetsis swings by, acting so sickeningly sweet. His honey laced words that are secretly coated with venom.

How the lies fall from Ghetsis’ lips so easy, and N wonders how he fell for them in the first place.

But he can’t react. Not until he knows what’s going on.

But he does make one vital connection.

You.

Hilbert/Hilda.

Whoever, or whatever they are. He always ends up being forced back to them against his will. Forced to speak the lies he once believed.

And he hears Them. The voice. It always comes back, making commentary.

Yes… whatever madness is happening, they are the key, he is sure of it.

He may not believe it is a god at first, but if you do more playthroughs, he might be inclined to start doing so.

What else could rewind time, and make a new timeline for fun? Forcing people to forget, and relive it, just a little differently each time?

But you are always positive about him, despite the things he’d done. The things he’s being force to relive again and again.

Maybe you’re not as wicked as one might think when trapped in this madness. You don’t even seem aware he’s being forced to relive this.

Perhaps to you, you don’t believe anyone remembers? Is he just an anomaly?

What about Hilbert/Hilda? You seem to control them. He no longer sees them as the teenagers who were eager to oppose him.

They are just empty vessels for you. Something he doesn’t think he would have noticed naturally.

Its like theres a fog in his head. He thinks he remembers the teenager being so… animated. Alive.

But thinking on it? They never were.

They are just a puppet, and no one but him notices.

It’s scary. But he doesn’t think you realize this completely either. Despite this horror, you don’t seem malicious. In fact, you even seem enraged and annoyed on his behalf every time you meet.

He doesn’t understand it. Not yet. But he vows to figure it out.

#pokemon #pokemon N #N #n harmonia #self aware au #self aware pokemon #self aware N #zed.talks #ask #anon #long post #n x reader

[autisticlancemcclain]

my friend @beloveddawn-blog helpfully sent me a list of questions to help me get my creative juices flowing in this massive bout of writing struggles i got going on. ily mwah.

1. Do you prefer in-denial Lance or pining Lance? How about Keith?

basic cop-out answer but it changes from fic to fic. in a more comedic fic, i like to go for lance who is both pining AND in-denial, aka he knows he’s in love and is mad at it, or i like to make keith like so painfully oblivious to lances blatant PLEASE DATE MEs that it’s funny. generally tho i go for gooey whipped mutual pining.

2. Do you prefer Keith to be baffled by Lance's flirting or just baffled Lance is flirting with him?

baffled that lance is flirting with him. the I Do Not Deserve To Be Loved -complex is my favourite complex to give keith bc i have problems and he’s just so easy to blorbo

3. What's your favourite episode and why?

i’m gonna be so real with you voltron was so bad that once i finished s6 at like 15 yrs old i vowed never to watch it again 💀💀 six years later this vow holds true. however i remember liking the first episode, the mermaid episode, the space mall episode, and the episode where keith chases lotor in the black lion and lance is like dude you fucked up. dumbass. but he’s very obviously fond and he’s THERE and they’re gonna fix it together and that is the first time keith realises that lance fully and completely has his back. that is the moment he fell in love to me

4. What's your favourite character beat and why?

i don’t know what a character beat is BUT i am a lance stan as you may have guessed. interestingly, i used to watch voltron with my siblings and as with all character things we did together, we each picked a favourite and then only that one character was allowed to be your favourite. lance was picked before i could pick him but i got keith (and thus have the most merch of him). and honestly….keith is kind of my favourite i never stop thinking about him and also i write in his pov the most (granted, about lance lol).

5. What's your favourite line you've ever written.

oh that’s a hard one! not to toot my own horn or anything but i’ve had some stellar lines, at least i think. i have a lot of lines that are profound or whatever but to this day i’m proudest of the “i’m anaemic” “oh i didn’t know you had an eating disorder” line like i made myself laugh out loud 💀

6. What's your favourite fic you've ever written

eighty percent of my fics are my faves bc i write to indulge myself lol. BUT i’m rly super proud of my look so good longfic, i love the applebees universe, and the beauty and the beast au is dear to me. i’m also obsessed with this fic that only exists in my head bc i have typed nothing yet. it’s a theatre school taming of the shrew au.

7. What is your favourite type of AU? Do you prefer complete AUs (like BatB) or detail AUs (that angsty thing you wrote where Lance leaves after the game show)?

i love modern aus really. i’m a fan of the mundane. as a close second i like redoing movies/songs/books that aren’t usually au’ed. and i like complete aus WAY better, i just have trouble actually completing them 😭😭

#thank u for asking ily <3333 #if anyone else has questions feel free to ask #just general or about specific fics/universes #vld