#i fucking hate aspirin

[dashing-through-ecto]

Caught a cold, want to dissappear.

#i fucking hate aspirin #its so disgusting #i still need to go to work this weekend T_T #we have 5 sick colleagues #we're struggling to even get someone to our patiens #aaaaaaaaaaa

[fourfuckinghorsemen]

I think im dying

#I hate hangovers #Need some fucking aspirin #Tua rp #Tua rp blog

[raininyourblackeyes]

Never did worse on an exam. Brb going to drown myself.

#the problem is.. i fucking new all questions for the groups before mine #like they got such easy questions just a tiny bit changed from what we did in clads #class #and then enter my group and i was so confident #and then the first question literally gave us nothing to work with but apparently because i have parents over 60 #that medicine is something we 1000% have at home and so i should naturally know that #uhm my dad (61) refuses to take an aspirin when he has fever? #and then all other questions she didn't give us how much of each medicine we should prepare when SHE TOLD US SHE'LL TELL US THAT BECAUSE #IT'S POINTLESS TO LEARN THOSE NUMBERS WHEN THEY AREN'T DEFINITE LIKE SOMETIMES YOU'LL MAKE 20 GRAMS AND SOMETIMES 100 OF THE SAME PRODUCT #and then today a whole other story about how that is essential for us to know #my problem is that actually people from my group will mostly pass because they are famous for cheating #and the prof didn't care... #also that's why they hate me in my lab group because i am a stuck up nerd who actually studies for the exams

[funforahermit]

.

#i'm so fucking weak for this man i hate it (no i don't) #i'm watching him on patreon and he has a hangover and his hair looks so to die for #and i can't focus on what they're saying #cause i keep imagining #what if i was allowed to care for him #like do you need some more water? ice? lemon? #some haribo maybe? #some aspirin? #a foot massage? #please say yes to the foot massage i'm kneeling anyway #god.... i'm terrible #anyway i just had to get this off my chest now we can all move on #rhys darby

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #scream #tara carpenter #scream 6 #tara carpenter scream #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #anika kayoko #samantha carpenter #quinn bailey #ethan bailey #wes hicks #amber freeman

[mydemimonde]

'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 1)

a/n: this will have two parts, most likely! english is not my first language and i have no idea how oxford university works lol i just googled some things, also i suck at maths so any explanation here is just me googling shit. no beta reader. hope you enjoy!

Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache, the worst hangover you ever had. You don't even remember how you managed to get to your dorm, until you see a small note on your bedside table, signed by... Michael Gavey.

Words: 4490

Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, loss of virginity, masturbation (and more to come in the second part)

You wake up on a Saturday morning with a pounding headache, your mascara all smudged under your eyes. The sunlight coming from the blinds makes you squint your eyes. You bring a hand to your forehead, sighing. This was the worst hangover you had in a while.

The sound of the door opening and a sudden gasp make you groan and close your eyes shut.

“Oh, here you are!” a particularly high-pitched voice says, making your headache even worse.

“Fuck, Leigh” your voice comes out as croaky and hoarse. “Lower your voice” you ask as she mutters a ‘sorry’ and closes the door carefully. You manage to sit, your back resting against the headboard as Leigh approaches you.

“Next time, be sure to drink water as well. Too many tequilas and shots do this to you” it’s like she’s scolding you, which is fair because she’s two years older than you, she’s like your sister sometimes.

You rub your eyes, smearing more mascara and making you look like a raccoon. On the corner of your eye you notice a glass full of water and some aspirins. You frown.

“How did you get that so fast?” It’s Leigh’s turn to look at you completely puzzled. You point to the glass next to you.

“Uhm, it wasn’t me” she chuckles as you take some aspirins in your hand and drown them with water. Your brows lift in surprise and confusion, your eyes glancing towards a small note next to your lamp. You grab it and read the message in a rushed handwriting.

“What the fuck was Michael Gavey doing in my dorm?” you nearly scream with wide eyes as Leigh takes the note from your hands to read it. She throws her head back and cackles.

“Michael Gavey brought you here last night. You don’t remember?” she looks at your dumbfounded expression trying not to laugh again. “Jeez, you were so drunk you don’t even remember what happened…” she mutters and sits cross-legged in front of you. “Last night at the pub, we were chatting with Felix and his group and you wanted to go to the loo, so you left but on your way you bumped into Bradley and Sam” she wiggles her brows and you scoff.

You dated Bradley during half the second term, then you dated his friend Sam for a brief period of two weeks. You found them too boring, so you rejected any other advance on their part ever since.

“Anyways, I couldn’t see much but I think something nasty happened, because on the other side of the pub was Michael fucking Gavey looking at you. Babe, he was fuming” her lips curve into a devilish smile. “He strode towards you and grabbed your arm, telling them to fuck off. Which they surprisingly did, which is odd because, well… you know… he’s a scrawny awkward nerd and Bradley and Sam are pretty much tall like beasts” she shakes her head while you’re still confused, trying so hard to remember what happened. 

“Why the hell would he even approach me? He hates me” your brows lift and she places a manicured hand on your knee.

“Hmm, maybe they were annoying you. It seems Michael’s your knight in shining armour. I think it was hot, wet my panties a little bit not gonna lie” she sighs and fans her face with her hand, pretending to melt.

Now it is your turn to cackle. “You’ve always said you pictured him like one of those guys who compulsively jerks off to hentai every night in the dark of his room.” You look at her with a knowing look, pouting your lips.

Leigh shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I like nerds like Michael Gavey now. He looked really good with that shirt” she narrows her eyes and twirls her hair, making you laugh again. She grins and looks at you. “You should talk to him. Ask him what happened, and then you might want to thank him…” she wiggles her eyebrows and you roll your eyes, she slaps your shoulder in response. “You know you want to! I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes, and a guy like him will never resist a bomb like you. Who knows, maybe he’s jerking off to the thought of you…”

“Leigh!” you slap her leg and she jumps. You shake your head. “Babe, she hates me. I know it. I’m pretty sure he’s part of that group of guys that slut-shames me in the hallways” Leigh presses her lips, knowing you might be right. Might.

Still, you want to know what really happened last night, so you sigh and get out of bed, Leigh following your movements in the dimly lit dorm. “I’ll take a shower and think about how to talk to him, ask him what happened” your friend gets on her stomach on your bed, her feet up and her chin resting on her palm as you grab your towel, feeling the headache go away, but your empty stomach grumbled.

“Mind if I take a nap here? Kev fucked my brains out last night and I don’t feel like going to my dorm” she sounded quite tired, and you hum in response. She groans as she gets into the covers and you enter the small bathroom, closing the door slowly and undressing to get into the warm shower, letting the water fall all over your body. You close your eyes enjoying the feeling, and you start wondering how to talk to Michael.

You never saw him anywhere else rather than in the great hall of college, as he spent most of the time in the library. Besides, you know deep in your gut he hates you. Every time you walk into the library, he leaves, avoiding looking at you.

One time, you tried to talk to him. It was the beginning of the academic year, you were dating a history student named David, and you saw Michael all alone during lunch, too focused on his books and his crunchies. Feeling bad for him, you grabbed your purse and walked towards him, a smile across your face.

“Hi there” you introduce yourself, extending your hand. He looks up from his book, looking at you with a frown, sneering. He looks at your hand and then back at you. Awkwardly, you move that hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips. “What’s your name?”

“Michael Gavey” he says sharply, clearly annoyed. You stand there, feeling heat creeping on your cheeks as he turns his attention to his book. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out so you leave, returning to your friends.

That was the first and last time you tried to talk to him, but he refused. You didn’t know why, but you assumed it was because of your reputation there. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your sexuality, and it’s definitely not your fault that most of the guys are horny douchebags who aren’t capable of being in a serious relationship. Plus, they’re too shallow for you, and you get bored easily. You don’t want them to get too attached.

But Michael’s different. He avoids interacting with people when he can, he doesn’t do parties -maybe you saw him once or twice at Felix’s-, he’s very vocal about what he thinks about popular people: he hates them. Vapid cunts, you heard him mutter once. And that’s why you feel attracted to him.

He’s nothing like Bradley, Sam or David. Or Luke. Or Peter. Or even Felix.

You finish showering and drying off your hair, Leigh sleeping soundly on your bed. You are careful not to make any loud noise as you try to dress. You put on a lace tank top and a pair of jeans, your favourite flats and the note he left on your bedside table and head out to the library, hoping to find him.

Bingo. You see Michael sitting on the other side of the library, fully immersed in his studies. Your flats make the slightest of noises against the floor, you feel your heartbeat get faster as you approach him. You pull the chair in front of him and take a seat, leaning over as you smile and say hi. Michael looks up and nearly chokes at the sight of your tits nearly spilling from your top.

“H-hi” he simply responds in a low voice. He clears his throat and frowns. “Why are you here?”

Ouch. Rude. “I was looking for you.”

“You were?” Silly old me?

“Yes, dummy. I woke up with the worst hangover of my life, and I found this on my bedside table.” You hand him the small note he left. Drink these with water. Hope you feel better. Michael Gavey. He presses his lips and nods, acknowledging the note he wrote.

“You were pretty hammered” he chuckles and you smile, showing your perfect teeth.

“I was. I can’t remember a thing, Michael. Would you help me to fill in the blanks?” you ask sweetly and bat your lashes at him, making him squirm. Michael Gavey squirms.

“Sure, uhm…” he puts the book aside, scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat once again. “You were heading towards the toilet at the pub and I heard you laugh when you bumped into those assholes” he sneers, remembering the events from last night. “The blonde one landed a hand on your ass and you tried to pull him away. You were clearly uncomfortable so just told them to fuck off” he shrugs.

Your heart flutters, he sounds so honest and worried about you. You extend your hand to place it on top of his, and he meets your eyes. “Thank you.”

He nods, looking at your hands. He slithers them away, making you frown. “No worries. Next time though, try not to throw up on my sneakers” your eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment.

“Oh fuck, did I do that?” He nods trying to hide a smirk. You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” You move your hands away from your flushed face when you hear him chuckle.

“You had too many drinks, you could barely stand on your feet” he reassures you, his sudden kindness taking you by surprise. “I left you in your dorm and just when I was about to leave, you said you felt like throwing up, but you didn’t make it to the toilet and threw up on my sneakers. I washed the stain off the floor and helped you get off your shoes to lie down. I see you took the aspirins I left there.”

“I did, thank you again.” You don’t know how to thank him properly, so you start thinking. You take a moment to study his features. The glasses he wears frame his face and hide his blue eyes. His aquiline nose —oh God, his aquiline nose—, the pronounced cupid bow of his lips, his sharp jaw. You feel the need to run your fingers through his tousled blonde hair. You press your legs together. “How can I thank you?”

“No, it’s ok. No worries” he makes a gesture with his hands and sighs. “Uhm, I really need to study, so…” he trails off, subtly telling you to leave. You blink and nod, standing up.

“Sure, ok, I’ll leave you to it…” you accommodate the chair back and wave at him. “See you around?” He just nods and opens his book again. As you leave, a great idea crosses your mind, but before you open your mouth a pack of students enter the library. You curse internally and leave.

9:15 AM.

You fix your hair in the mirror, brushing it before going to the calculus lecture. You’re not studying anything related to maths actually, you’re a psychology student and according to the university program you can take a course to complement your studies, so you chose that one.

As you walk down the corridors, you see Michael carrying his notebook and entering the classroom. Your lips curve into a smile and speed up the pace to catch up.

“Michael!” You call him as you finally reach him. You swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, and you follow him as more students fill the room. He smiles at you with pressed lips, greeting you back.

“I didn’t know you were taking calculus” he sounds genuinely surprised. You decide to take a seat next to him, placing your bag on the floor as he opens his notebook and clicks his pen, everything ready to take notes.

“Yeah, I have to take an optional course to complement my studies” you lean down, giving him a clear view of your cleavage as you reach for your notebook and pencil case. You hear him gulp.

“How… dedicated” he replies, to which you smile, taking the end of your pencil in between your teeth.

Michael looks away, his eyes focusing on the board as the professor greets everyone and starts writing.

Half an hour later the lecture comes to an end. You sigh in relief, your brain has melted from all the numbers and formulas the professor explained. Honestly, you paid more attention to Michael’s large hands and long fingers gripping his pen as he took notes, thinking about how they would feel on your body.

You watch as he stands up quickly, nodding at you as a way to say goodbye. “See ya”

“Michael, wait!” You quickly put your notebook into your bag and rush after him. “Shall we study together? We can do the assignment due by next week together” you offer him your signature smile, tilting your head and thinking he wouldn’t say no. Most guys melted when you smiled at them like that.

However, your confidence vanishes when he grimaces and scratches his neck. “Actually, I… I don’t study in groups. Doesn’t work for me”.

Why are you surprised, it is obvious. You always see him alone in the libraries. You curse yourself internally. “Oh, well…”

“I’m sure you will do great though, you seem like a clever girl” the praise coming from his lips make you silently gasp.

“Yeah, you’re right…” Just as he’s about to leave, an idea pops in your head. “Actually, Michael… I’m struggling with this subject.”

Lies. You aren’t a genius like he is, but you can manage. You don’t like maths but you don’t suck at it either, you do good. Enough to pass the subject.

“I was wondering if you could help me” you do your best to sound helpless, knitting your brows and all. “Everyone says you’re a fucking genius, please, Mike?” He swallows hard at the way you practically beg him for help, placing a hand on his elbow.

He doubts only for a few seconds before agreeing. “Ok. I will help you” he yelps as you wrap your arms around him, your tits flash against his chest making him dizzy.

“Oh, thank you Michael!” you pull back, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you smile. “Can we start today? I would tell you to come to my dorm, but my friend Leigh is currently staying there because they found a rat clogging her toilet.” Another big lie.

Michael just nods, he doesn’t really have too many options. “Fine. Uhm, my dorm is on the second floor, 219. I’ll be there at 4pm, bring your notes and a calculator.”

You playfully salute him, like a good soldier. “Yes, Sir” he chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning on his heels to leave.

You can barely contain your joy as you walk towards your dorm, almost singing.

3:40 PM.

You try on different outfits, grunting when you look at yourself in the mirror for the fifth time. You don’t like any fit, and you continue rummaging through the pile of clothes on your bed. You lift your brow as a red fabric catches your attention. It’s the mini skirt Leigh gave you a few weeks ago. You quickly put it on and look at yourself in the mirror once again, happy with the result. Your white baby tee with ‘cherry bomb’ in red letters written on it makes the perfect match.

You grab your notebook and head towards his dorm.

“Coming” you hear Michael’s voice behind the door. He will surely be coming today. He opens the door, breath hitching at the sight of you in that top, your nipples peeking through the fabric. Suddenly he feels his pants are too tight. “Please, come in” he gives you enough space to enter his dorm, which you do. As you walk past him the smell of your perfume fills his nostrils. Fuck.

You smile at him and as he closes the door behind you, you look around the room. It was just what you expected. Everything was perfectly neat, books organised in two bookshelves, more textbooks and notes scattered over the white desk.

“Take a seat over there” he points at the bed, and you gladly do it. “Do you want something to drink? Eat? I have some crunchies.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.” You flash him a sweet smile as you open your bag, looking for your notes and your pen.

Michael sits next to you, keeping a safe distance of course, but close enough you can hear his hard breathing. “Ok, we can start with the basics, and then I’ll help you with the exercises, sounds good?” When you nod, he continues. “Cool. So, think of limits as a way to understand what happens to a function as it gets closer and closer to a certain point without actually reaching it.”

“That sounds paradoxical” you cut him off, and he suppresses a smile.

“It does seem counterintuitive, but it's about observing the behaviour of a function as it gets infinitely close to a specific value.” He continues explaining, and you pay attention to every word that comes out from those beautiful lips.

Michael’s brows lift in surprise as you finish another task quickly, and he’s even more surprised when he checks it and there are no mistakes. He didn’t find any mistakes in the previous 5 exercises he provided for you either. You just look up at him, waiting for his correction.

He looks back at you. “You did perfectly well. Again.” You squeak and he takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t get it. Most students get the first ten exercises horribly wrong, but you solved all of them perfectly. H-how?”

You lean back on your arms, legs crossed. You tilt your head. “Maybe I’m just a quick study, learning from the best” you start moving your feet up his leg, slowly and carefully. He shakes his head as he puts on his glasses again, sighing.

“No. You’re just wasting my time.”

“What?” It’s actually the truth. You are wasting his time, you weren’t having any issues with the subject, you just wanted an excuse. “Ok, yes, I admit it” you lift your hands in defeat, and he curses.

“Why the fuck would you ask for my help if you don’t need it? Fuck, I have many important things to do and you’re here bothering me, leave please.”

You get on your feet quickly as he’s about to turn the doorknob, and you stop him. “No, Michael, please hear me out.” He glares at you, nostrils flaring as you take his wrist and guide him towards his bed, making him sit on the edge. He looks confused, you sit next to him, your knees touching.

“Look, I just wanted to thank you for what you did the other day. For being my knight in shining armour.” He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by placing your index finger there. “No, listen. I know it’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me. Michael, I want you.”

Michael’s eyes widen at your confession. “W-what?”

There’s no way you wanted him. You, out of all the people on the campus. Slowly, you lean in, wetting your lips with your tongue to press them against his mouth. You give him a soft peck before truly kissing him, your hands finding their way towards his tense shoulders. He doesn’t respond yet, but when you bite gently on his lower lip he whimpers, he fucking whimpers, and moves his lips against yours, trying to follow your rhythm. Your lips taste like cherries, and he loves it.

Kissing him feels good. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, feeling how he squirmed under your touch and kisses. You wonder how he would react when you have his cock in your mouth.

You slither your tongue inside his mouth, exploring it as he gets more excited, his hands finally touching you, placed on either side of your waist.

You pull back to catch your breath and he chases your lips. You giggle. “Easy there, lover boy. We have plenty of time.”

“Fuck, I- I… I’ve never done this” you frown, and he sighs. “I’ve never kissed anyone. Ever. That felt really good” he chuckles, and you smile.

“You liked it?” He just nods, and you start placing open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck until you reach his ear and whisper. “Wait until I put my mouth on your cock.”

Michael gulps. “W-what?”

“You think I came here just because I wanted to kiss you? No, Michael” his eyes follow your movements, how you rise from his bed to kneel in front of him, hands undoing his jeans, looking for any sign of discomfort. When you find none, you continue, pulling down his jeans and boxers down to his knees, freeing his cock. “I came here because I really, really want this” you purr and lower your gaze to his weeping length, your cunt clenching around nothing already.

Michael’s big. At least, bigger than the ones you had. Curved upward with a protruding vein on the side. You bite your lip as you start stroking him, Michael closes his eyes shut and whimpers. You never heard someone whimper so beautifully. You study every reaction, every microexpression as you continue stroking him at a tantalising pace, as if you are torturing him.

“P-please…” he begs through bated breath, moving his hips as he tries to get some friction, anything.

“You look so beautiful begging, Michael. You’re making me so wet, baby” he cries out your name again, and you smirk. “Michael, open your eyes” you demand, and he does so, breath catching in his throat as he finds you there on your knees, looking at him like you were his predator. It was so fucking sexy.

“I want you to watch as I suck your cock. And you better last more than five minutes. I want you to enjoy it” he nods and swallows hard as you lick your lips before taking him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck” he curses, gripping the sheets beneath him until his knuckles are white. You lick the vein, going from the base upwards, and you hear him sigh. You lick him like you lick a lollipop, and then you take him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks as your right hand works its way around the base. He’s so big he doesn’t fit completely into your mouth.

You hum around his cock, your eyes closing as you bob your head up and down his shaft, making Michael squirm. He doesn’t know what to do, he just keeps looking at you, unable to tear his gaze from you.

The soft moans that escape his lips, the way he whimpers your name and bucks his hips ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you but eager to get more are enough to make you wet. Hell, you are sure your panties are soaked by now, leaking through the fabric.

His eyes widen as he catches the movement of your left hand that was on his inner thigh going in between your legs, under the skirt. Were you touching yourself?

You bob your head faster and moan around his cock as you tease your wet folds with your fingers. You push two fingers inside your pussy, the room filling with the most obscene sounds you ever heard.

“Are you… are you touching y-yourself?” asks Michael in a strangled moan, watching you intently. You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, your saliva coating it.

“Of course I am, Michael. I’m fucking wet. Here” you take off your fingers from your pussy to grab his hand, and guide it towards your entrance.

Michael almost passes out. You are, in fact, dripping wet on his fingers. You let him touch you for a moment, grinding your hips against his hand, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit so deliciously. “S-shit, Michael” you bite your lip and he grins, happy to earn that reaction from you. You feel him twitch in your hand, the tell tale sign that he was very close to cumming. You remove your hands from your cunt and he frowns.

“Did-did I hurt you?”

“No, baby. But tonight’s about you, ok? I can teach you how to eat my pussy later, yeah? Right now, I want you to cum in my mouth. Whenever you’re ready” you wink at him and he chokes on a sob as you take him into your mouth again, slowly until you feel him in the back of your throat. Some tears well up in your eyes, you moan around his cock and that pushes him.

He bucks his hips and shoots his load deep down your throat, you look at him through your lashes and see how hard he grips the sheets, his chest heaving as he moans your name. He stays still for a while, panting as you swallow his salty cum, wiping the corner of your mouth with your hand.

“Holy fuck” he mutters, still trying to catch his breath. You get on your feet and plant a kiss on his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Now… shall I… well, uhm” he’s unsure about what to ask.

“Eat my pussy?” you finish for him and he nods eagerly, you giggle. “Another day, baby.”

“But you… you were touching yourself and didn’t get to cum, right? I have to return the favour—”

“No, Michael. Don’t worry” you reassure him with a kind smile, stroking his cheek. You lean in to kiss him again, and then, you whisper in his ear: “I’ll just finger myself until I cum in my bedroom to the thought of you.”

You smirk as he looks at you with his jaw dropped. You blow him a kiss, open the door and leave.

let me know what you think! and if you'd like to be tagged as well 🫶🏻

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fic #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn #saltburn movie #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell fic #mydemimondewrites

[mars-ipan]

‘m gonna. try to go to bed

#i fucking!!! hate!!!! aspirin!!! #sighhhh #i don’t take meds i get nauseous. i take meds i get nauseous #it’s either pain or jitters. tired of this

[spookysteddie]

The Very First Date

Modern!Steve Harrington x college!fem!reader

Part two to "lemon drop martini" ... Read part one here

18+ MINORS DNI

desc: you finally call Steve for that first date. And it goes better than you imagined

cw: alcohol mention (reader is not in the slightest drunk), slight Dom!Steve, cocky!Steve begging, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie. (let mw know if I missed anything)

wc: 2.8k

a/n: I hope y'all enjoy this! based off of this ask who asked me for a part two a while ago (I am so sorry). My writers block has lifted after like a year and here we are! So expect more fics soon!

...

Three days. 

You’d waited three days before calling the number on the napkin. 

Well that’s a lie. You actually called the number the next day (after eating a greasy meal, drinking a shit ton of water, and downing some aspirin… nothing like a hangover) from your roommate Alixs phone. But the second he answered, you hung up very fast. 

Alix, of course, called you a little baby back bitch and told you that you needed to call him. That it’d be nice to have some perks around your little college town. 

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment. 

To say you were nervous talking on the phone with him would be an understatement, in fact you were shitting myself. Scared he’d be able to hear it in your voice how nervous you were. Or, worse, that he wouldn’t remember you. 

Four days ago: 

“This is Steve Harrington speaking. How can I help you?”

You took a deep breath, putting a smile on your face in the hopes it’ll translate through the telephone.

“Hi, Steve. I-it’s y/n. From the bar the other night.” You cringe at the slight stutter and the wave in your voice. “You gave me your number on the napkin.” 

You can practically hear the smile in his voice, coolness seeping from his voice, “lemon drop martini girl. Of course I remember you, sweetheart.” 

You quietly sigh in relief that he remembers. 

“Oh good! I’m sorry for not calling sooner. I was a little hung over and then I had to study and take exams. Finals season.” You laugh awkwardly, cursing yourself for rambling and making a fool out of yourself. Alix would be rolling her eyes. 

Steve laughs on the other end of the line, “ah yes. I hated finals. Very frustrating. Hence why I dropped out, much to my fathers dislike.” 

One thing about you is that you love oversharing. But you love when other people overshare even more. There’s nothing like bonding over a trauma dump. 

You giggle into the phone which makes Steve giggle too, the sound mimicking a sweet song. All you want to make him do it again. 

“Anyway, sweetheart, I was wondering if you had plans for Friday night?” His tone is cool and relaxed. You could only wish to sound like that. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, words failing you for a moment. “Oh! Um, nothing actually.”

“Perfect. Hows ‘bout you and I go on a little date? I know a great place. Kinda fancy. What do you say?” 

You could kick your feet like a little girl at the prospect of going out with him. You, also, are tempted to make him wait. To give him just a little bit of a hard time. It was what you'd usually do to the men you like. But there was something in the back of your mind begging you not to. 

“I-I would like that, Steve.” 

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7. Give you time to study and get ready. Take a nap even.” 

…

 “I can’t do this. I can’t go. I mean, fuck, I have nothing to wear.” 

Nothing to wear was an understatement. You could hardly see the floor of your bedroom, clothes littering it with only a small path for where you keep walking from the mirror to your closet. 

Alix sits on your bed, drinking some wine and eating some popcorn. “I liked the black leather. I don’t know why you won’t just wear that one. You look hot in it.” 

You slide your hands down the front of the blue, sequence dress you have on. “I just feel like that’s not enough. And isn’t it a little … short for a dress for a nice restaurant?” 

Alix shrugs, “I mean, probably but who cares. You look hot.” She sips her wine and says again, “well you look hot in everything.” 

You look over at her, “while that’s sweet, he’s going to be here in fifteen minutes and I need a few shots to calm my nerves so help me pick a dress, please.” 

She rolls her eyes at my dramatics, downing her wine. “I think you should wear the short black one you wore two weeks ago. Not the leather one, the velvet one. Makes your ass look great. Oh with your Louboutins! You spent a lot of money on them and have worn them once. It’s a sin.” 

One thing is for sure, you did spend a lot of money on them, charging them to your dads credit card. 

One change and two shots of vodka later, you were walkin down the steps of your condo to an awaiting Steve. He’s in dark jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray jacket. His hair is just as perfect as the last time you saw him. (which was via instagram… gotta do the research right?)

He whistles long and low as you approach, and in a quick stroke of confidence you decide to do a little spin. He claps slowly as you face him and so, you bow. Just slightly so you don’t accidentally flash him. Not the way you want to start this date. 

“Well hello to you too, Harrington,” you say as you smirk. 

He slips his hand in his pockets, a smirk on his lips that you feel right between your legs. “You look very pretty tonight, sweetheart. I mean you’d look pretty in a potato sac but,” he shrugs. “We should get going.” 

You smile and nod at him. 

And the bar is clearly in fuckin hell, because him opening the door for you makes you want to jump his bones. But then again, no man has ever opened a door for you so… we can let it slide. 

“Such a gentleman.” “Chivalry is not dead sweetheart.” 

… 

Steve is very thoughtful. Sure, he asked all the usual questions you ask on a first date. 

What’s your major?

Do you have any siblings?

What do your parents do for work?

Oh, your dad is in sales? Funny mine too.

He gives you guilt money? Mine too! Look at us 

He also, orders you and him a bottle of wine (he has great taste) but lets you order your own meal (again the bar is in fucking hell). The place he takes you to is nice and the food is the best food you’ve had since you left home after summer break. 

“So Steve, what made you decide to open up a bar in town?” You eat a spoonful of dessert, eyes never leaving his. 

He takes a spoonful of his own dessert. “I was sick of working for everyone else. I knew if I made a unique bar, something you and your friends have never seen, others would want to check it out. Then you’d tell all your friends, who’d tell their friends, etc.” He grins as he talks, keeping eye contact with you. 

It felt like a game of ‘who is going to look away first.’ A game you weren’t going to lose. Slowly, you pull the spoon out of your mouth, dipping it back in to your dessert. “Interesting. Great concept if you ask me.” 

He huffs a small laugh through his nose, “I’m glad you enjoyed my bar.” 

You scrunch your brows, the wine making you bold, “who said I enjoyed it?” 

Now he really laughs, “you seemed to really enjoy all those lemon drop martinis. So much so you had a hangover the next day. I tried giving you waters but you threatened to gut me.” 

Your jaw hangs open, “fibber.” 

“I haven’t been called a fibber since I was a kid,” he smiles. “But yes you did tell me you would gut me. And then you left and I thought I’d never hear from you again.” 

You can’t help but feel slightly guilty inside for not calling sooner. Well, you did call sooner but chickened out. 

“And here we are.” 

“Yes, here we are.” 

He seems to think for a moment, sipping his wine (one he ordered that would go well with the dessert. He was right.)

“Wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” He looks up at you through his lashes, tongue rolling down the inside of his cheek. 

He wasn't… demanding. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you could turn him down. That he would take you home with a smile on his face. There would be no fuss, no fight, no name calling. No pressure. 

And for that very reason, with a smile on your pretty face you answer him, “yours or mine?” 

… 

You’re not even through the door of his apartment before his mouth is on yours, his large hands on your face. The kiss starts soft, testing the waters and it isn’t very long before you deepen it. Your tongues dance but there is no fight for dominance, you let him win. You want him to win. 

His lips trail over your jaw before slowly moving down your neck, gently nipping at your skin. 

“Such a pretty girl,” he says in between kisses. 

He sucks a bruise into your shoulder, easy to cover up, just in case. You let out a soft moan, hands coming up to tug at his hair. 

“You-you’re pretty too.” 

You can feel him grin against you, head lifting as his body cages you in, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty. Well besides Eddie but that was mocking.” 

You laugh, moving in and kissing him slowly, sweetly, “you are a very pretty boy.” 

You can feel his hard dick jerk at the sentiment, and you keep it as a mental note. You know, just in case you need it. 

“Fuck, can’t say shit like that.” 

“No? Why not?” 

“Cause it makes my cock hard. And it’ll be very embarrassing if I cum in my pants. Can't ruin my reputation.” The smirk on his face makes you almost pass out. You swear to God you can feel every word in your core. 

“Hmmm, we can’t have that can we?” You push his jacket off his shoulders before running your hands down to the hem of his shirt. “Should take me to bed so we don’t risk you cumin’ early.” 

It’s all the permission he needs. His lips are back on yours, his hands under your ass and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands in his hair as he carries you to the bed. 

He puts you down gently, his lips never leaving yours. Not for a moment. Not until he pulls away to tug his shirt over his head. You take the moment to take him in, his body lithe and toned.  You also can’t help noticing the scars on his side that look a little like bite marks. Bite marks from something that isn’t human, something you make a mental note to ask him about at a later date. 

“Sculpted from marble, god damn.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, never wanting to stroke a man's ego. 

Steve just grins as he finds the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down slowly down, his knuckles slowly touching your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You shiver under the touch and he notices. You’re quickly learning that Steve notices everything.

It isn’t long before he’s pulling the dress down your body, leaving you in only your underwear. Underwear that barely covers you, a wet patch on full display. If it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed. 

“Are you this wet for me?” His tone is mocking and he’s practically cooing at you, “go on. Answer me.” 

Your eyes widen. Men have been demanding in the bedroom, plenty of them thinking they’re little tough guys. But none of them get that from you, none of them deserving. You’re not sure why you want to give that to him. You’re not sure what makes him different. And honestly, that is a problem for future you to talk about in therapy. 

“Yes,” you reply, voice a little higher than usual. “S’all for you.” 

The smirk he gives you makes your heart speed up. “Such a sweet, pretty thing. God, I want to devour you.” 

His lips move to your chest, sucking a peaked nipple into his mouth. You can’t help but arch into his mouth, a small moan falling from your lips, his hand coming to play with your neglected breast. And it isn’t long before he swaps sides, his teeth nipping and sucking. 

“Please. More.” 

He laughs, moving to oblige you and kissing down your sternum before settling between your legs. “May I?” 

Him asking makes your heart stutter in your chest, “yes. God yes. Please.” 

Steve tugs your underwear down your legs, tossing them to meet the rest of the clothes on the floor. “I think I could get used to praying to me.” 

He doesn’t give you time to answer before he licks up your cunt, stopping at the top to suck on your clit. The moan that comes out of you is loud and you’re thankful the windows are closed. “Fuck, Steve!” 

He pushes a finger inside of you, curling them to reach the spongy spot inside you. “And you moaning my name is even better. Why don’t you do it again, angel” 

He pushes another finger inside you, the burn causing you to grip his hair. “Steve please!” 

“Please what, sweetheart?” 

He moves his fingers faster, continuing to hit your sweet spot over and over again. His mouth moves to your clit, sucking gently. He keeps his eyes on you, observing, listening to every sweet moan and sigh that comes out of you. He files them away in his brain so he never forgets what drives you crazy. 

“Need to… I-I need” 

He sucks hard before pulling back, “need what? Go on, use your words.” 

You gasp, “to cum. I- please.” 

Begging wasn’t what you did for men. If anything, they begged you. Begged you to let them cum. 

Steve doesn’t say a word, just grins and uses his free hand to press on your stomach. That is your undoing. “Steve!” You pulse around his fingers, breath getting caught in your chest. You feel warm all over, head emptying as he works you through it. 

“That’s it baby. That’s a good girl. Bet that feels so good doesn’t it?” 

You try to answer, you really do. But all you can manage is a small nod. 

“Gonna let me fuck you?” 

Again, you can only manage a nod. 

“That’s my girl.” 

And before you can even process his words, he flips you over on your stomach, hands pulling your hips in the air. You’re on full display for him. He can see everything. But you couldn't care less, all you want is him inside you. 

And you get your wish. He moves slow, making sure he doesn’t hurt you. He’s big and you can feel every inch of him stretching you. It’s a tight fit even with how wet you are. 

“Holy shit this pussy is amazing baby. Squeezing me so tight.” 

His other hand braces himself by your head before dropping down to his forearms. He’s so close to you now, inside and out, his hips moving slowly so you adjust to him, and his breath fanning across your face. 

“F-faster. Faster.” Your hands rake down his back, nails digging into his back, making him hiss. 

He snaps his hips faster, grinning down at you. “Just so needy huh?” 

You nod feverishly, “yes. F-feels so fucking good.” 

He laughs at you now, kisses you. “Such a dirty mouth, baby. Pretty girls aren’t supposed to swear.” 

“Says-says you… swear all the time. L-like a sailor.” 

He hums. “Dirty mouth for a dirty fuckin girl.” 

“That-that’s me.”

He fucks you faster and you feel like coil growing tighter and tighter inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, not wanting him to get too far away. He groans and you can tell he’s close. 

“Want… no need you to cum inside me. I’ll d-die if you don’t,” you beg. You know you’ll probably regret it in the morning, all that you’ve said here in this bedroom. But at the moment you can’t find it inside you to care. Mainly because he was taking up every inch of you. 

“Yeah? Need it? I’ll give it to you baby. Will give you anything you want.” 

And it’s all you need to fall over the edge, walls clenching around him so hard he falls with you. A mutual “fuck!” falls from both your and his lips. 

You're both panting as you come down from the high. He pushes your hair out of your face and kisses you sweetly. Suddenly Steve is giggling, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

“What? Why are you laughing?” you ask with just a little bit of worry. 

“I am so fucking glad you ordered a lemon drop martini.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fic #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader

[issatalk]

Courage

paige bueckers x reader

fluff

prompts:

childhood friends to lovers

taking care of a drunk paige

“with her hand around my waist and all the music and lights, mannn i don’t even know where i am, but one thing i do know is that i will dance on her until i can’t move for the night” i heard the woman say as she came near my table to sip on her drink after her and paige were basically grinding on the dance floor. the place was so crowded and truthfully i don’t know if it was the alcohol or if i was just extremely jealous that paige, the paige i have had feelings for for years is letting another girl dance on her as i am sat watching the scene.

after some time of their dirty dancing and dreading eye fucking, paige came to the team table. she was messily walking over us and oof was that girl wasted, i can’t believe she got this bad “ hey can you give me another dirty shirley temple ” she told ice with a small grin in her face that made it so obvious the state she was is. that was our queue to leave, everyone in the team was tired of dancing and occasionally drinking. i myself only had some tequila lemonade so i wasn’t really tipsy or anything but some of these girls were going to need so lots of coffee and good aspirin in the morning

inês was the most stable of them all, she wasnt much of a drinker and went for light beverages. we had called an uber for some of the girls while other came in their own cars, after sending a couple of girls in each ride, aaliyah decided she would be driving. even tho it was paige’s car, she was in no state to drive it, so it went, inês, paige and i along with aaliyah in the car. me and paige went on the backseat i

as i was taking care of her just to make sure she didn’t puke in the car or do dumb shit. aaliyah turned her playlist up making this quite a party since everybody was screaming the lyrics. as some quieter songs came on paige started laughing silently, making me a bit annoyed since she was extremely talkative and touchy when she was drunk. she was constantly poking your face and laughing, i hate this part because it’s when all her hidden thruths come to light and you just never know if it is good or bad.

one time sophomore year you had taken her home after a big game win, the party was crazy, everyone cheered for her, at that point she was the party. but she’s a bit of a light weight so we constantly had to take care of her after her “fun nights”. you were laying her down in bed making sure she was cozy in her bed with enough heat and comfort from her blanket.

she was silently staring at you, once u got near to tell her good night and light off she started talking a lot. things you thought were nonsense since she was drunk, she had said that you had the most beautiful smile in the whole wide world as well along that you had the fattest ass in campus, you definitely laughed at the last one as it was unexpected but these little drunken words meant a lot to you specially since she had been your best friend since junior year of highschool and these drunken words have happened all these years . and this just went along, you never could get rid of that stupid crush you had on her in highschool which after some years turned into big feelings.

in the car paige was getting more confidence then usual, she started by slightly placing her hand on ur knee and after some time while everyone was still singing along, you feel as her hand was going further up into ur thighs, she was rubbing them at this point. she tried to get a little close to not only ur thigh but also down there. u panicked and quickly moved ur hand on top of hers moving it back up to your knee, you turned to look at her and all you could see in the minimum light of the night, were those beautiful blue eyes that made you squirm and go crazy at the tiniest contact, you saw that upturned nose that was ever so perfect and that smile that made you go crazy. finally realizing you were going to keep on suffering quietly if you never made a move.

morning comes and as extremely anxious as you are, you walked up to paige’s dorm with a coffee in hand to help her hangover after lasts night event. you knocked as kk opened up the door letting you in “girll who that coffee for? you better have 4 others in the car cause we surely need them” she said, making me laugh. i walked towards paige’s room opening the door seeing a quiet paige looking like life needs to be contemplated, she clearly had just woken up not many minutes ago, but damn she still managed d to look cute, even with a hangover.

“goodmorning p” you smiled handing her the coffee as her pearly teeth flashed a smile as she saw you “goodmorning love” that’s a new nickname… “so what’s are the plans for today? geno said practice is up until 5 so we got the whole morning” i said trying to wake her up “i think i might just stay in bed enjoying this beautiful coffee that the best person in the world just brought me” she said hoping everyone could hear her so they wouldn’t bug her “oh, well, can i stay with you for a bit?” “ yeah of course, i’m watching the new mario bros movie, so when i go back home i can make sure drew and i can talk about something he likes” it made me melt, i love how much love she had for her brother.

some hours later she fell asleep ,paige was resting in my chest as i tried to move as less as i could so i didn’t wake her up, but as it hit 2pm, amari came and yelled at her to get up. she groaned and tossed around the bed like a little girl making me laugh, she was just too adorable. yet it was time for me to tell her how i felt and if i didn’t do it now it would never happen.

still in her room i said with courage “hey paige” “yup” “ i need to confess to you that for a while i have had feelings towards you, i feel attracted by you as well as extremely grateful towards you, you have done so much for me and for that exact reason i am scared to tell, because i have no expectation on your reaction and i’m sorry if it makes it awkward between us but-“ as just like a cliché moment, the girl i died for since highschool was kissing me. it was a sweet and short kiss, i could sense a smile from both sides after we separated our foreheads from eachother. “god you don’t know how in love with i am do you? i’ve been dying to do they for years” she said in the breathiest voice, i just needed more. i kissed her again, i pushed her down on the bed as she took my waist ,pulling me closer to her so she could feel all of me. i was starting to go down to her neck but got scared as amari banged on the door again, making me separate from paige and making us get up. since that day and on i take courage in all of my decisions, knowing the consequences are fully mine, yet i’m ready to challenge them all. just for her.

thank you if you took the time to read this!! i hope you enjoyed it!!

this is slightly pazzi coded btw

#paige bueckers #wbb #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #issawritess #azzi fudd #pazzi #inês bettencourt #aaliyah edwards #kk arnold

[haute-pockette]

The Doctor's incarnations have fears associated to what caused their regenerations Two acting childlike and whimsical because he's afraid of growing old again. He's scared of becoming a crotchety old man that will die alone. He surrounds himself with friends just as he much with surrogates, to help him feel like he isn't too old to be running about having adventures. Three having a lot of complex and mixed feelings about the Time Lords. He resents them for what they did to him and his companions, but also very scared of facing that fate again should cross their path once more. Four can't stand spiders. They didn't directly kill him, but damn did they play a big part leading up to his regeneration. They give him the willies and Sarah Jane and Romana always have to take care of invading arachnids while he is perched safely on the center console. Five hating heights might actually be canon, he's shown freaking out on a cliff in Castrovalva and hating every minute of a plane ride in Time Flight. Boy likes to keep his feet firmly where he doesn't risk falling. He'll get vertigo if too close to a ledge. Six being scared of getting sick. While this one is more vague, it was the fever of Spectrox Toxemia that kills, so I could see him being panicky and over compensating when it comes to illnesses. Pulls manflu pity every time: bed rest, tea, soup, hot waterbottle on the forehead, reciting rhetoric about his woes. Poor Peri and Mel has to tend to his drama. I can also see him hating bats but in a "why can't you fuckers make more than a tiny vial of milk, asshole???" kind of way. I think Seven's might also be canon (in the books at least) with the way he mentally locked away his Sixth self in fear of the Valeyard. Though he wasn't really a cause for regeneration, he certainly set the Doctor on the path to it. Eight terrified of medicine and hospitals. Aspirin is already deadly to Time Lords, anesthesia fucked up his regeneration. This boy won't go to a medical professional unless he's dragged in unconscious. He will look at broken leg twisted out of shape and claim he can walk it off. The Warrior/War Doctor scared of failing people the way he did Cass. His spirit for hope and brighter ending to the war broken when he regenerated. He became the one that got his hands dirty because he was too scared to let anyone else die under his care.

Nine scared of war. War Doctor held off his regeneration for years to keep fighting, and Nine clearly does his best to step away from the incarnation he hated being more than anything. Like he said, "Coward, any day." Ten is a bit tricky. He's scared of Daleks, losing companions. He's scared that people around him will be willing to sacrifice themselves for him. Scared of the heart of the Tardis, the very soul of time itself ripping away what/who he loves. After Rose is safe from it he was very careful to never let anyone open it again. Eleven scared to see another Time Lord again. He's heartbroken about being the last of his kind. Romana, Brax, Damon all gone. The Master's plans had gotten so much more violent and destructive and insane than they used to be. The other Time Lords so desperate to escape the Time Locked war that they'd destroy time to do it. He's scared of everything ending if the Time Lords return. I haven't really seen enough of Twelve or past that to give proper interpretations on them, but I'm pretty sure Twelve is determined not to be seen as an old man. It's like he sees this new cycle as starting over so he's trying to act like he's the young, rebellious first incarnation? idk

#Doctor Who #Headcanons #Classic Who #new who #Second Doctor #Third Doctor #Fourth Doctor #Fifth Doctor #Sixth Doctor #Seventh Doctor #Eighth Doctor #War Doctor #Ninth Doctor #Tenth Doctor #Eleventh Doctor #Twelfth Doctor

[peachesofteal]

Cupcakes

Maybe this will be a thing. Or maybe not. Either way, I've got the Pedro brain rot.

Joel Miller/female reader One shot - 1.1k words - AO3 Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, mentions of blood, violence, gore. Joel is bad at feelings. Descriptions of explicit sex. Joel doesn't understand you.

He doesn’t understand you. You smile. With your mouth, your pink lips curling above a deep scar on your chin. 

“It’s my trophy.” You told him one night. “I got it from a crazy fucker who had a barn fulla clickers.” He’s not sure why any person would be penning up a bunch of those things, but you did say he was crazy. “Killed him though. Was one of my first ones.” He watches your face go dark with the memory, and he tries to imagine what you were like before all this. Soft, sweet. Probably someone’s wife. Maybe you stayed at home. Made dinner, made breakfast. Maybe you were the type that made cupcakes, real ones from scratch, with sweet spun sugar icing. Maybe you took care of someone. 

He doesn’t understand the way you think. You’re always telling him to take it slow, take it easy, take his time. He can’t. He doesn’t know how. He has to move fast, quick, easy on his feet. He cannot slow down. You have no problem making pace, but it doesn’t keep you from voicing your opinion. 

“You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack. Don’t the doctors usually start old men on baby aspirin at your age?” He’s not that old, for christ’s sake. He’s not even forty-five yet, he thinks. When you laugh at your own jab, it feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. 

He doesn’t understand the way you fight. You creep around like a god damn cat, brandishing a knife in your hand, another two slipped in your boots. You liked surprise, and you hated guns. The first time he had watched you put a blade in someone’s clavicle, he thought he was going to be sick. He didn’t like you having to get so close, no matter how many times you tried to assure him you were fine. And he hates how his head spins when he watches you put that same knife in the side of a clicker’s head, twisting it for good measure, before you’re shoving off of them and bashing their skull in. 

“Can’t aim worth a shit.” You complained the day he took you out for practice. You couldn’t hit a single bottle, and he couldn’t fight the grimace that graced his face. When you saw it, your cheeks turned a different color, and guilt burned inside him. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so fucking stubborn. Why you don’t listen when he tells you to do something, when you blatantly ignore him when he tells you not to follow the crying little kid that’s begging for help. 

“It’s not like it was life or death.” He turned on you so fast he watched your eyes go wide, his arms pulling your shoulders towards his chest. “It is life or death!” He had yelled. You had run into that building without a care after that kid, and he could hardly keep up. Turns out, the kid’s mom was already infected, and he didn’t understand. He was only five. You covered his eyes while Joel put her down. You had carried him all the way back to camp, even after Joel had offered to take him, arms wrapped tight around his back as he cried. So stubborn. But you let Joel hold you that night, for the first time. In the dark, your hand running up and down his spine, your whispered words repeating over and over. “I’m fine. I’m fine, Joel.”

He doesn’t understand your feelings. The way they shift from one day to the next. He doesn’t like how it feels when he catches you crying, drop of tears webbed in your pillowy lashes. 

“What is it?” the words are gruff, and he wishes he was softer for a split second. You sniffle and shake your head. “It’s my dad’s birthday. Or would’ve been.” He gets it, he does. But he doesn’t know how to show you, so he just sits down on the step, his shoulder against yours. You wrap your hand around his knee after you’ve dried your tears, and he holds his breath while you turn your tear-stained face up towards him. “Thanks, Joel.” His name on your lips makes his blood sing. 

He doesn’t understand the way you talk to people either. The way you make everyone feel like they’re some ray of sunshine in your life. Like they matter to you. You give everyone your smile, and your eyes, and your touch. You rub Rita on her back when she throws up every second week of the month, like clockwork. You braid the Marshall girl’s hair when her mom isn’t around to do it. You try to arm wrestle John when you both get a free moment, and he can hear your laugh clear across the yard when he lets you win. 

“He gets a kick out of it.” You tell him one night. “Makes him feel good. Shitty world we live in, you know?” 

He knows. 

He wants to make you feel good.

He hasn’t had a woman under him in years. He’s all rough sandpaper, and he can’t imagine that scraping against your porcelain skin. But, that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. He dreams about bending you back on one of those shitty mattresses, your skin rippling in goosebumps under the tips of his fingers. He imagines the way your mouth tastes, how your hand would feel wrapped around his cock. He thinks about how you’d sound, with his mouth on your cunt, his tongue licking up inside you, pulling an orgasm through your gritted teeth. He’d hold your hip in one hand and fuck his fingers into you with the other, feeling the way the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. He thinks about how he’d push your hips down onto his cock, your back arched in his arms, your mouth pressing into his shoulder as you moan. “Joel.” you’d whine, tongue darting out to lick your lips, hand gripping his forearm. “Fuck, Joel. Please.” He’d bite the skin of your neck, bringing it between his teeth, pulling the blood to the surface to brand you. You’d be his. 

These things he wants, they’re just a fantasy. A gentle dream, like the memory of the world before. He knows that, he does. But it doesn’t stop him from wanting. From watching you when you’re on guard, hips swaying with every step you take. Doesn’t stop him from taking himself in his hand when he thinks about the curve of your waist, the prominent dips in your hips, the soft crease where your thigh bends when you sit, legs folded against each other. He wants to pin you beneath him until you’re shaking, wants to hold you to his chest while you sleep. He wants the sweet, soft spun sugar that melts in his mouth, the feeling of you in his arms. He wants the cupcakes, the real ones. 

He wants it all. But it’s only a fantasy. 

#joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #Joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou hbo #joel tlou #joel miller x oc #peaches writes #female reader #tlou fanfiction #Joel Miller

[slvthrs]

WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME DADDY | vinnie hacker

--- MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD ---

you don’t think vinnie loves you so you flirt with his friends, he proves that your his

ROOMMATE!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, friend’s with benefits typa relationship, degradation kink, spanking, pet names, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), brat taming, oral (m reciving), fingering, slight dumbification, harsh sex to really fluffy sex 

word count: 2.8k

author’s note: this is inspired by the song why don’t you by father

“Vinnieee” I slurred out, I was slightly tipsy from my friends being here earlier and us drinking and shit talking about boys and relationships. I was currently snuggled up in me bed in my bra and underwear re-watching ‘skins’ while smoking some weed to combat with my stupid fucking ex breaking up with me over me living with a guy- I hate that asshole so much. 

“What the fuck do you want” He said groaning and walking into my room

“Vincent can you please can you go downstairs and get me some Aspirin and Tums” I say with a pout, I know my hangovers and if I don’t have medicine I’m gonna be a bitch.

He flops onto my bed and looks at me while I lay down next to him, “Was this guy really worth all this shit” He asks looking at me, “Why did he even break up with you, what did you do?”

I may or may have not told Vinnie yet that the fact I broke up with my boyfriend was because of him, “It wasn’t that big of a deal anyways, don’t worry” I fail to look reassuring, 

“C’mon dude were close, I LIVE WITH YOU, I won’t judge you” He says with a pout and who am I to deny such an adorable sight

I sigh, “He was just generally overprotective and possessive or whatever but um the main reason he broke up with my was erm cause I lived with you” I close my eyes shut afraid of what Vinnies’s reaction might be but he sits up and just looks baffled

“Wait wait you’re telling me he broke up with you cause you lived with me?” He says it like it’s unbelievable

I just chuckled, “Yeah I guess he thought that we were a thing behind his back or something”

“Damn that sucks man I’m really sorry, why didn’t you just move out with him?” He asks with a lot more sincerity than I have right now- I’m just focused on how close vinnie’s lips are to mine,

“It’s fine I like living with you and some insecure guy isn’t gonna change that” I say staring at his lips

“Yeah, but I dunno it makes me feel bad that you feel like this because of me” he says brushing a few strands of my hair of my face and rubbing the tears of my face as I lean into the touch

“It’s fine Vincent I promise you, living with you is worth being single” I say trying to reassure him with my face still in his hands

All he does is chuckle and then our lips are connected.

That's how it started. Now everytime me or Vinnie are mad and we need to take out our anger, or we need a date for an event, or even if we want to get off we always have each other. That’s the rule- no matter what we have time for each other.

But it’s been a week and Vinnie has barely talked to me and I shouldn’t be mad cause this is a casual thing- no strings or whatever, but what pisses me off so much is that he’s talking to another girl- specifically my best friend Zoe, who assures me it’s platonic but god I’m so mad at both of them.

He’s to fucking busy to notice that it’s been around 3 months since we started this- whatever this is, woo it’s our ‘anniversary’ and he doesn’t fucking care does he?

I had just gotten out of the shower after a busy day at work and I just needed some sort of release so my only option was obviously my roommate. I quickly put on a matching set and some black sweat pants and a white lace tank top and walked out of my room to find Vinnie.

When I found him he was shirtless sitting in front of his gaming setup on his phone- oh fuck he looks so good.

He was clearly just finished working out- He was shirtless with just sweats on his hair fucked up and one hand scrolling on his phone with his other hand was resting behind his head while he was leaning on his gaming chair.

I went up to him and leaned on his desk waiting for him to acknowledge me to no avail

“Hey Vinnie are you busy right now” I ask with my tone bleeding with annoyance

“Oh uh I’m kinda messaging-” I cut him off “Zoe, right, whatever”

I walk back into my room seething I fucking hate him so much he’s a bitch fuck this.

I grab my phone and scroll down to find Theo’s contact, he was one of his irls that his fans didn’t know much about- Vinnie gave it to me a while ago when Theo came over to take pet-sit hera when both of us were out of the country but now it was the perfect revenge.

I flop onto my bed grabbing one of my pillows and I call the number a few times before he picks up

“Hey y/nnn” He calls out

“Hey Theo” I yawn, “How are you?” I ask with as much sincerity I can muster

“M’ good, I’m just playing valorant, what about you” He says

“I’m good Vinnies just being annoying right now so I wanna talk to you” I laugh

He laughs with me, “Yeah, that’s Vinnie for you, anyways wanna talk about it cause u called me like super late”

“Oh erm nah its fineee” I draw out, “Just wanted to talk to you y’know” I try to deflect

“At 12 am?” He says with a chuckle

“Uh yeah I guess sorry” I try to make it seem sincere 

“Hmm yeah sure, is there anything else you want?” He asks, if I wanted to I could have sex with him but that just seems really fucking wrong

But I don’t need to fuck him to get Vinnie jealous, he’s the most fucking possesive person I’ve met me talking to Theo is gonna fucking rile him up to no end

“Um sorry this is a weird request but can I play valo with you, I need to get my mind off shit?” I say ask rubbing the back of my neck and cringing, that was a shit lie 

“Oh…kay, sure why not anything for a pretty lady” He says with a certain confidence in his voice. “Hope on valo, let’s play a couple competitive matches”

I agree and end the call to hop onto my desktop and pick up the call on discord.

We start off as attackers and our team wins 7 out of the twelve rounds before we switch to defense, multiple close calls, including my team being wiped out with me being the only person left to defend for us, and when we win that round I scream so loud to ensure Vinnie hears me. 

We end up winning the match and I jump off the chair and do a spin out of happiness, but out of the corner of my eye I see the familiar blond leaning on my door frame yet I don’t acknowledge him.

“Hey Theo” I ask breathlessly, “You're really good at valo thank-” But before I can finish thanking him that familiar scent of sandalwood mixed with lavender and smoke creeps up behind me caging me into my desk and ending my call with Theo.

A hand on my jaw pulls my gaze away from my screen into addictive brown eyes, neither of us make a sound, we just stare at each other too afraid to mess up the atmosphere.

I break the silence first, “What the fuck was that for asshole” I say only slightly louder than a whisper, still to afraid to ruin the moment.

“You know what that was for pretty, what are you doing calling some rando at fucking 12 at night bitch?” He asks but I don’t need to reply, we both know the answer to that.

He continues, “Dumb little girl is so needy she’ll whore herself out to anyone who’ll pick up the phone? You know I’m always there but you can’t handle not being the center attention for like 5 minutes”

And that’s what pisses me off, I stand up looking at him level in the eye, “You don’t get to fucking say that Vin! You haven’t talked to me in a week cause your to busy slutting yourself out to MY best friend and-” 

He cuts me off, “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh my fucking god Vin your so annoying, you never listen to me it’s like talking to a wall!”

“That doesn’t answer my question, can I kiss you?”

I hate the things he does to me, I hate how he makes my entire body heat up when I’m mad at him, I hate how he tries to get me going at the worst time, I hate how he tries to fix our arguments and our mistakes by getting me horny, and I really fucking hate how it works.

I nod and he places his hand on my hips and guides me into a kiss whilst I wrap my arms around his neck and lean into the kiss, his hands roam around my body slipping under my shirt to pull it off. We let go of the kiss to take our shirts and pants off and we both ended up back on my bed with him against the headboard and me straddling him, grinding on his clothed cock.

“Shit, I fucking hate you so much,” I plead whilst my hands curl into his hair and his lips trail blazing kisses along my neck down to my tits whilst he unclasps my bra and keeps the kisses going.

“Yeah, yeah, say whatever you want baby, you know your mine” He says in between kisses 

And the fucked up part is that he’s right.

I could flirt with as men as I want and he could talk to as many girls as he likes to try to forget me, but fuck we both end up in one of our bed’s at the end of the night, worshiping each others bodies or ruining each other till theres nothing left in either of us- I’m his, and he’s mine… even if were to pussy to say it.

But right now I’d rather die than admit to him that he’s right.

“Really” I question breathlessly, “I thought zoe was yours?”

“Oh fuck off, if you wanna be a brat, I’ll fucking treat you like a brat.” He says as he manhandles me so my face is pushed into my pillows and my ass up in the air and smack my right cheek

The burn makes me hiss into the pillow whilst his hands snake down my back to pull my hair which in turn pulls my hair up so he can see my face.

“Your mine” He instructs, “Say it, say your mine.”

He knows im his, we both know that I’m his but fuck the man and his stupid insecurity crisis, I’m not saying shit.

“Fuck fine, we’ll just do this the regular way” He says and accentuates with a slap on my left ass which makes me hiss and arch my back into him.

I don’t know how long the spanking goes on for but I know it burns but I feel so fucking good right now, I can see stars and Vinnie and that’s all I need right now.

He’s finally done and flips me over, “Cmon baby, just say it, I wanna fuck my girl and I know you wanna feel good pretty, it’s just 2 words.”

I know my face looks exhausted because Vinnie starts kissing every single soft spot on my neck, collarbones and jaw so I can relax and take a moment to relax. “Daddy-” I slur out, “Can I suck you off?” I say with such an innocent tone and doe eyes that I think it takes him a second to register.

He doesn’t say anything but helps me situate myself on my knees in front of his still clothed dick. 

He moves the hair of my face and helps me take his boxers off, his cock looks angry and red with precum already leaking off of it. I start kitten licking the tip of his dick, swirling all the salty precum over his angry tip. I can tell he's starting to get frustrated by the way he’s fidgeting above me.

“Your such a fucking tease baby,” He says petting through my hair, “Such a dumb little brat”

And my stupid ass giggles instead of saying anything, but it gets him going enough for him to tangle his hands into my hair and start using my mouth to get him off, my moans and hisses just add to his pleasure. 

I hollow my cheeks out and swirl my tongue around his dick to give him some form of stimulation, and use my hands to jerk off the rest of his cock that I can’t fit in my mouth. 

It’s so fucking dirty, the sounds of me gagging on my roommates dick with spit rolling out of the corners of my mouth, and the whole scene is finished of with Vinnies moans echoing around our house. 

He’s so fucking close to cumming and I can tell by the way his grip on my hair tightens and his moans turn whispier. But for some fucking reason he pulls me off and picks me up so I’m straddling is lap again and were making out again.

He flips both of us over so I’m laid out on my back and he’s hovering over me like I’m the finest piece of art he's ever seen, “Hey baby, you still with me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I pant, trying to catch my breath.

He takes his fingers and finally take my panties off and dips them into my folds, his thumb reaches my clit and he makes figure 8’s on them, the sudden simulations causes me to gasp and arch my back which leads to Vinnie’s hands finding refugee on my hips and pushing me down into the comforter as he continues to stimulate me.

His hand drags in and out of me as our lips interlock, we move in a steady rhythm and everything feels so right, for a second I forget about everything that we were fighting about and melt into his touch, I may be a petty bitch but god has this man done something to me.

The knot in my stomach builds and I know Vinnie can tell by the way my legs shake and how my lips quiver around his whilst my hands drag my nails through his back, causing him to hiss in pain and pleasure.

“Vinnie” I moan out, “Please can I cum”

I’m begging at this point, I’m so close to release and I wanna cum so bad that all my self respect leaves my body.

“I don’t know baby, you’ve been so rude”

“Please, Vinnie please” I plead, “I need you so bad, please I’m yours”

I give him what he wants in hope he gives me what I want and it works like a charm

“Oh how am I gonna deny such a pretty girl?” He states but he removes his hands causing me to whine but instead takes his dick and lines up to my folds and slowly goes in, reveling in the way my eyes roll to the back of my head.

He’s excruciatingly  slow and then painfully fast slamming into my hips with the sound of our skin slapping adding to the ambiance. Our moans bounce off the walls, my breathless wines along with his low grunts create a melody of intimacy, it’s so different to how we started. 

We’re so fucking close to cumming that Vinnie tells me to, “cum with him”, and that’s exactly what we do. We both finally get our release after so long that we don’t even move for a second, my forehead and his touches for what seems like an eternity until he finally pulls out and places a kiss on my cheek and heads to get water and towel to wipe me off.

After he does that, I get up and pick up my panties and put them on and then put on Vinnies shirt whilst he puts on his sweat and we both use the bathroom.

As I get into bed with him after changing he cups my face and places a kiss on my lips, “Plus I’m sorry for everything, I’m such a dick sometimes”

It’s sweet, after all we're not even exclusive and he's this sweet, I kinda forget everything he’s done… until I don’t.

“It’s fine baby, you can make up with me in between my thighs”, I say the last part so quietly that he doesn’t register it for a second until he places one more kiss on my lips and slips under the covers.

#bella's full works #bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie

[vulpisnocturna]

Part II of Gojo x Reader

Part I

Prompts:

18) Hate sex. Character could not hate Reader more, and the feeling is mutual. So of course Character and Reader have insane sexual chemistry, fueled by the humiliation and indignation they feel at being so aroused by each other. What are they supposed to do?

19) Character finds out that Reader is a virgin and finds Reader's overwhelm to be a huge turn-on as they have sex for the first time

NSFW - Minors do not interact

Warnings: hate sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, inexperienced reader, hard dom Gojo, degradation kink, praise kink, dirty talk, slight age gap (reader is 22, Gojo is 27), dacryphilia, creampie

4.7k words

Gojo was not familiar with the term “rejection”. What Gojo wanted, Gojo got. He was also not very familiar with the term “pining”. Girls pined for him, he fucked them if he liked them, and then he moved on. Maybe, sometimes, there was one who was a little more shy, one he wanted more than the others. Then, he would charm them.Woo them into his bed. Once he had slept with them, he wasn’t interested anymore. He made it very clear he didn’t want a relationship, but most of the time, they still chased him after. So then he would leave, not wanting to make matters worse by sleeping with them again and stringing them along. He was a fuckboy with morals, he thought.

This was the first time he’d slept with a girl, made her cum multiple times, and then had been rejected and ignored. This was the first time Gojo wanted a second time. And a third. This was the first time Gojo wanted to be the first and the last.

Sometimes, Gojo thought he hated you so much he fucking loved you. At first, he’d hated you because of how cold and aggressive you were towards him. Because you treated him like you hated him. Because he liked you, and you didn’t. Then, he’d started to dislike your attitude, your sarcastic comments to him, the way you seemed to find him repulsive. Now he knew you really didn’t. No, you fucking loved being in his bed. That night at The Pulse, he had decided that no matter what, he’d sleep with you that very night. His mind had been plagued by images of you for too long, and he needed you to be gone. He needed to go back to not caring about you, or caring too much about how much he disliked you.

When he had found out you were a virgin, he’d felt slightly guilty. After all, it was only physical for him, and he doubted it was much more than that for you too. But he hadn’t been able to get over just how hot you were, how exhilarating the feeling of how naive and innocent you were felt. How he was the first, how responsive you were to anything he did, how easy it was to tear you apart. And it had been the best sex of his life. You hadn’t even had to do anything apart from moaning, crying and squirming underneath him. That was why he had woken up in the morning, basking in the sweet scent of your skin, searching for your body to pull into him so he could properly wake up with some very needed morning sex. But you were gone. He had turned his head to his bedside table, a sheepish smile stretching his lips at the sight of a little note next to a glass of water. That was gonna be your number and a request to please call you again. That had been what had been going on in his mind.

‘For a probable hungover’ it read, along with the water and an aspirin.

His surprise at seeing the blunt message, although coupled with the kindness of your gesture, had irritated him. Had you not enjoyed the sex? No, of course you had. He’d made sure you loved it. He’d loved it too. A little too much.

Gojo was annoyed. Sneaking out and disappearing were his style. He hadn’t been walked out on before. And he hadn’t been that disappointed over a woman leaving after a one night stand so much before.

Oh well, he thought, plenty more fish in the sea.

Two weeks had passed since that day, and you had been avoiding him like the plague. Every time he spotted you, he made a beeline for you, wanting to talk, but you quickly disappeared or sought out Nanami so he wouldn’t be able to stray away from a professional conversation.

Gojo had even had sex with people who looked a little like you, but it had not felt the same at all. He couldn’t help but compare, and no one came close. And that was frustrating for a man who loved to have sex. All he had to do was take you home, fuck you, and then that frustration would be gone and he could resume his normal life. If he could have just a second time, he could prove to himself that he didn’t need you. That he really did dislike you. But you just loved to be difficult. Gojo couldn’t understand why you were being so cold towards him. Why you were playing the queen of ice around him. As though your relationship hadn’t changed one bit after that night. Surely, if he showed off a bit, you would be impressed. But you did nothing but use Nanami like a shield against him. You couldn’t have a crush on Nanami. You were treating him with courteous smiles and politeness all around, and Gojo’s stomach was churning for no reason. So what if you liked Nanami? All was well if he could take you home that one time. Who cared if you wanted Nanami after. But that wasn’t true. He cared. He didn’t want Nanami, or anyone else, to see you naked. To hear what you sounded like when you pleaded to cum.

You even called Nanami ‘Kento-san’ and him by his last name. Well, he thought smugly, you’d screamed his first name quite a bit already.

You had been avoiding Gojo for two weeks now. You had woken up in his bed, your mind filled with images of the night you’d spent with him. Of how you’d lost your virginity to him. Of how you’d begged him to fuck you. A mistake. You had made a colossal mistake. Because now you couldn’t get him out of your head. Now, you wanted more. You had written him a message and sneaked out. And avoided him whenever you saw him in person, only to touch yourself at night thinking about how good it had felt.

All because you knew that the reason he was trying to talk to you, the reason why you had to hide behind Nanami whenever he was around, was because he liked the chase. He liked the idea of having fucked you and just wanted to discard you once he was bored. And though you didn’t want to admit it, you couldn’t help but feel hurt at that thought.

You sighed, getting out of your car, your fingers fumbling with your keys.

‘Hey there’

Your soul nearly had a premature departure from your body as you winced, turning around to see Gojo leaning against the wall next to your house.

‘What the hell are you doing here? You stalking me now?’ you snapped, glaring at him. He gave a grin and a shrug.

‘You’ve been avoiding me. Figured you wouldn’t be able to hide behind Nanami’s skirts here’ he said.

‘So you followed me home? Are you crazy? What you do want?’ you asked, keeping your voice to a loud whisper so people wouldn’t think to butt in.

‘I just wanna chat. I’ll even buy you a drink’ he gave a seductive smirk, his cobalt eyes eyeing you up and down, sending shivers down your spine.

‘I just finished working’ you said, hoping he would get the hint and piss off. He didn’t.

‘Perfect! I’ll wait for you if you want to change’ he said. You looked at him. Did you really want to make another mistake? It was true that he looked amazing in that simple white t-shirt and smart trousers, but that was no reason to become stupid all of a sudden when you’d been doing so well for two weeks. But then again, maybe just another time. Maybe, if you did it another time, you would be able to get him out of your mind.

‘Will you stop stalking me if I have a drink with you?’ you huffed then, acting as though you didn’t know where this was going to go.

‘If you promise you won’t stalk me, sweetheart’ he said with a devilish smirk on his perfect lips. You gnashed your teeth, closing your eyes and exhaling softly before you grabbed the keys.

‘No chance of that happening. Vain cunt’ you said venomously. He tilted his head, a small pout on his face.

‘So? Are you going to accept this splendid offer?’ he nagged, his hands in his pockets, his sunglasses sliding a little lower on the bridge of his dainty nose.

‘Yes- fine. Whatever, if it shuts you up’ you grumbled. Gojo grinned broadly, triumphantly as you turned the keys into the lock.

‘Atta girl’ he said, making your cheeks heat up as you slammed the door in his face. You decided you would make him wait. See if his resolve faded. So you took a ten minute shower, dried your hair and put on a red top and a skirt that covered you to the middle of your thighs. Not too provocative, but good enough to be suggestive. You decided to throw in your nicest underwear, black lacy bralette and lacy panties. If something were to happen, you wanted to look good, at least. And you didn’t want to admit to yourself how much you wanted something to happen.

When you eventually opened the front door, Gojo looked bored out of his mind as he scrolled on his phone. When he saw you, though, his eyes trailed down your figure without an inkling of shame.

‘You dressed up all nice for me, sweetheart?’ he asked, voice sweet and teasing.

‘Dressed up nice in case Nanami’s there’ you bullshited, knowing it would rile him up. And it did. He grimaced, shutting up for at least a minute or two.

Gojo thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. You didn’t even have to try. And you were just as venomous as you were stunning. For some reason, hearing you talk about Nanami made him want to break his face in and claim you for himself. Which was stupid, because he did not like you, and he did not care.

And yet, he opened the car door for you, brought you to his favourite bar, got you your favourite drink, and even had a somewhat civil conversation with you as the music played and he sipped on his mojito and played with the ice in his glass. All the while, he couldn’t help but think you weren’t that annoying. You were almost interesting. He almost didn’t even care about the sex. That was, if the sex hadn’t been that good, and you didn’t look that sexy in that outfit. But you still kept your cool, even though his comments from time to time made you blush prettily. As he eyed your red lipstick, he couldn’t help but imagine how pretty it would look around his cock. He had promised he would teach you how to do that the previous time, after all. And God did he want to put you in your place for making a joke out of him for the past two weeks. For ignoring him, not giving him the time of day. For taking root in his mind. For all the nights he had had to think about you to get himself off because he couldn’t manage to do it otherwise anymore. You were an unforgivable little brat. And Gojo couldn’t help but hate you for it. Couldn’t help but want to repay you in kind.

So, after a few drinks, he gave you his prettiest smirk and offered you to go back to his place. You shifted on your seat, mulling over it, looking as though you’d almost be tempted to refuse. But you accepted.

Bingo, he thought. All his efforts would finally pay off. And then, he could forget all about you. And you could go blush prettily at Nanami, and he wouldn’t feel the need to burn the world to ashes because of it.

Much like the first time, Gojo barely managed to contain himself until the front door was shut before he clashed his lips against yours, tasting you again. A groan came out of him as his hands gripped your hips and pulled your smaller form against him so he could feel every inch and curve of your body.

He slipped his tongue into your sweet mouth, gripping the fat of your ass, smacking it and revelling in the soft whimper you let out as it sent a thrill down his body.

‘Last time, I was gentle. This time, I’m taking you like I want to, pretty girl. So you better keep up with me’ he said, sucking on your throat, wanting the whole world to know he’d fucked you stupid. You pulled on his hair, equally aggressive, fisting his shirt.

‘You need to learn some manners, Gojo’ you hissed.

‘No need to be the queen of ice with me. I can feel you rutting on my thigh like the slut I know you are. And I thought I made it clear it’s Satoru. Or are you already fucked stupid and can’t remember?’ he taunted, pulling your hair. He saw your hand swing for his face miles away and caught it an inch from his cheek, condescendingly snapping his tongue against his teeth.

‘Ah- ah- ah. Now, that’s a brat if I’ve ever seen one. You think because I was nice with you last time, you can act like a spoiled brat now? I think it’s high time we got rid of these clothes’ he tutted, pulling your top over your head and groaning at the sight of your perfect tits enveloped by black lace that left very little to his imagination.

‘You wore this slutty bra for me, didn’t you? Thank you, sweetheart’ he smirked, palming your breasts as he lifted you up until you had to hook your legs around his hips, letting his cock rest against what he could not wait to feel around it.

He carried you to his bedroom, letting you straddle him as he sat on the edge, his large hands splayed on your ass under that little skirt that had been driving him insane all night.

He toyed with your nipples through the lace, feeling them stiffen under his touch. Your responsiveness was exhilarating to him. Your little sighs and moans made him harder than he’d ever been, you were just so clueless about what was happening to you. So innocent and pretty.

He dipped his head to flick them with his tongue, grinning when you let out a pathetic whine.

‘I seem to remember saying I would teach you how to suck my cock, sweetheart. Are you going to be a good girl and try?’ he asked, tearing your bralette off of you and palming your tits. They fit perfectly in his hand, and he gave one of them a slap when you didn’t answer, making you jolt and groan.

‘I need an answer’

‘Yes- yes’ you let out, voice breathy and eyes watery already. Satoru smirked, pushing you on your knees, taking off his shirt and unbuckling his belt.

‘Don’t you look pretty like this’ he crooned, taking off his sunglasses and setting them on the nightstand. He saw your throat bob and your fingers tighten on the hem of that little skirt that had been haunting him for hours.

‘Stop taunting’ you hissed at him, glaring, your neck straining to look him in the eye. Satoru sighed softly, carding his fingers through your hair, rubbing your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

‘I know your cute little cunt gets wet when I do. No need to lie, sweetheart’ he drawled, pushing his thumb past your lips, eager to see what you would do. Your tongue twirled around it, and you sucked it hesitantly, making his cock twitch in his trousers. You knew just what to do. Satoru unzipped his trousers and lowered them enough to free his cock, his fingers wrapping around it and stroking it in front of your pretty face.

He thought your hesitant, nervous face was the best sight in the world.

‘Be a good girl and lick it. And keep looking at me, sweetheart- that’s it…’ he took a sharp breath as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving a tentative kitten lick to the tip, swirling your tongue like you’d done with his thumb. He nearly came at the sight.

‘Fuck- yes, that’s it- just like that’ he praised, gathering your hair and fisting it, moaning when you pressed your tongue on the underside of his cock, licking up to the tip. He would have struggled to believe you’d never done this before, if it weren’t for your wide eyes and hesitant expression. You looked so eager to please him. And it made him want to fuck your throat and see just how pathetic and fucked out you looked then. But he wouldn’t. Not yet, at least. He didn’t want to scare you off.

‘Good girl. Now wrap those gorgeous lips around it. Cover your teeth and relax your jaw’ he continued, and you did so, tearing a loud groan from him. Your mouth was so hot and wet, your tongue twitching on the underside feeling like a drug.

Before he could tell you to do anything, you twirled your tongue around the head of his cock, sinking deeper until your eyes welled up with tears and Gojo saw stars. You gagged a little, even though you’d only managed to take a little less than two thirds of his cock inside your mouth.

‘Fuck- you’re full of hidden talents, aren’t you? Your filthy mouth is better than I could have ever imagined it would be. God- you’re so fucking sexy’ he moaned, keeping his eyes on your shimmering ones, gripping your hair and starting to slowly, shallowly push inside you, hardly able to contain his moans. To his surprise, you let out a moan too, which reverberated around his cock, heightening the feeling.

‘Take a little more. You can do it- that’s right, gorgeous little slut’ he grunted when you gagged and tears spilled on your cheeks, drool trickling down your chin as you breathed hard and sank on his cock.

‘That’s a good slut- you look so pretty crying over my cock. Want me to fuck your dirty mouth?’ he asked, receiving a desperate moan in reply and a soft nod of your head as you hollowed your cheeks. Satoru did not need anything else to grip the back of your head and start to fuck your mouth, moaning as he looked at you trying to keep your eyes on his even as they filled with tears.

‘I knew you would fucking love this. You feel amazing- so fucking pretty. So pitiful, drooling over my cock and gagging on it. You’re just so fucking eager to please, aren’t you? My little slut’ he crooned, starting to get a little rougher as he felt your jaw relax and your throat grow accustomed to him, wanting to cum in your mouth so badly.

‘Are you gonna swallow my cum like a good little slut, mh? Don’t waste it, baby- you want to be my good girl so bad, right?’ he panted, his balls tightening, his eyes narrowing with the impending release. You moaned even louder, tearing another grunt for him as he pulled back a little to cum down your throat. He groaned, head hanging back, eyes growing heavy and glazed over with his orgasm.

He ran a hand through his hair, slipping out of your mouth with an audible sound and looking at you as you swallowed. God. He was completely undone. He had to keep you. Had to feel like that again. And he wanted to bury his face between your legs, feel just how wet you’d gotten from sucking him off.

He lifted you up, lowering you on the bed and assaulting your throat with possessive hickeys, painting your neck with purple and dark red.

You moaned, your fingers tangled in Satoru’s snowy hair, your hips twitching with the arousal that had been building up there. You hadn’t imagined sucking his cock would be so fucking hot. The noises he’d made… the stuff he’d said to you, knowing that you could make him come undone just like he’d done to you… it was almost addicting, even though he had been so big in your throat you’d thought you might choke a few times.

‘Mh. Is there something you want, sweetheart? If you ask nicely, I’ll lick your pretty little cunt until you scream my name’ he said, and your breath hitched, his filthy words going straight to you and almost making you moan audibly at the mere idea. You wanted to feel that again. But you didn’t want to give Gojo that satisfaction. He already looked so fucking smug. He looked at you from your nipples, languid eyes and shiny lips, oozing such sex appeal you could barely breathe.

And yet…

‘I hate you’ you hissed, your wounded pride at how much you wanted him to degrade you and take you as he wished making the bile rise in your throat.

‘Oh, do you? We’ll see. Keep saying it until you believe it. If you stop, I will too’ he said with a wicked smirk, hooking his fingers under the elastic of your skirt and pulling down. “I hate you”, you said evenly, sure of it yourself. And yet, you loved where he was going. What he was doing. “I hate you”, you said as he ran slender, elegant fingers on your thighs, splaying them open for him.

The third “I hate you” was cut short by his hand cupping you through your sopping knickers, drawing a breathy sigh of relief from you at the friction and a roll of your hips.

‘You might say that, and yet, you are soaked for me. Look at you. What a mess you’ve made, little slut. And for so little’ he hummed, stroking you lightly and circling your clit so deliciously you closed your eyes, completely forgetting what you were supposed to do to continue feeling that way. When he stopped, you looked at him, anger making its familiar way onto your face.

‘Come on, baby. I need to hear how much you hate me’ he said mockingly, and you sneered, saying it with such venom he laughed. But he took off your knickers and tossed them aside anyway. You said it again, and he lowered his head, prompting you to say it one more time before he could do anything and ruin your resolve. But then, he flicked your clit with his tongue in the middle of your words, and you keened, your voice drawing out like a whine. He lapped slowly along the length of your labia, drawing out a long moan from you as your hands shot to grip his hair.

‘You taste so sweet, baby. And you sound so sweet, too. Such a dirty little girl with the sweetest, most desperate moans. And all for me’ he hummed, the vibration in his voice making your breath falter. You hooked your thighs on his head.

‘I hate you’ you breathed, throwing your head back at the slow, firm licks of his talented tongue, eyes glazed over, whimpering and moaning.

‘I hate you’ you whined when he licked your clit up and down and wrapped his lovely lips around it, humming softly. And soon, your words were slurred, breathy, filled with want and insane pleasure as he licked and sucked and kissed like he had been born to do so, until you sobbed his name like a prayer, tensing your muscles, your thighs trembling.

He kept going, unrelenting and without mercy, sucking and prodding inside you with his fingers.

‘’Toru- no more’ you whined needily. He lifted his head.

‘Oh, but you’re being such a good girl for me. So desperate, so pliable. I think you can give me another one, baby’ he said, his fingers toying with your clit, his other hand squeezing your backside. You let out a broken moan, pleasure shooting through you yet again as your hips twitched.

‘I could lick your pretty little cunt all night, and I would still want more’ he said, sliding his fingers inside you and curling them. You keened loudly, your back arching when his lips wrapped around your swollen, tortured clit once again.

‘Good girl’ he breathed, and your muscles contracted around his fingers, drawing a low laugh from him.

‘S-toru’ you clamped his head shut, but he did not seem to mind. He continued to torture you, seemingly not needing to breathe or stop until you near screamed his name, your mouth wide open and your eyes closed as your mind-shattering orgasm made you see stars.

You couldn’t breathe nor think for a while. You were manhandled by Satoru until your legs were spread and his cock was pushing inside you, and you moaned at the fullness, a slight burning sensation lingering at first.

‘I can tell you haven’t had another cock inside this little cunt since I fucked you- you’re so fucking tight’ he moaned, gripping your thigh, your arms wrapped around him for dear life as he continued to push until he was buried inside you to the hilt.

‘Satoru…’ you moaned, raking your nails across the pale skin of his smooth back.

‘You like feeling my cock inside you, sweetheart? Did you miss it by any chance?’ he taunted, lifting one of your legs up on his shoulder, making you arch your back and whine as his cock seemed to reach even deeper, until you could feel it in your stomach.

‘No-‘ you moaned, eyes scrunched up, tears drying on your cheeks only to be dampened by new ones as he started fucking you relentlessly.

‘Fucking lying slut. You wanted this. Wanted me to fuck you so badly you sobbed. Didn’t you?’ he pressed, smacking your ass and making you jolt as you screamed a yes that you could not hold back.

‘Yeah- wanted it- so much I hate it- I fucking hate you, Satoru- just want you to fuck me… please’ you screamed, crying out your frustrations and letting go of them as he bent your legs to your chest and pounded inside you.

‘I hate you too- hate you so fucking much. Hate that you won’t fucking leave my mind- hate that I want you to be mine so fucking bad. Say you’re mine. This- only I get to fuck you. Only I get to make you scream’ he grunted, wrapping slender fingers around your throat, making you feel airy and light as his pelvis continued to stimulate your clit with every thrust, his words making you tighten around him.

‘I’m yours- g’nna cum, ‘toru’ you breathed, letting out a sob when he kissed you roughly, biting your lip, his teeth clashing against yours with the messy, sloppy making out you got pulled into, your breath short as he choked you, your cunt clamping around his cock with another orgasm that shattered through you.

‘Fuck- perfect slut. All mine. I’m close, baby. Keep milkin’ my cock like that’ he moaned in your ear, sinking his teeth in the curve of your shoulder as his thrusts started getting sloppier and deeper, his moans in your ear making you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm as your clit throbbed. Satoru stilled inside you, letting out a breathy moan as he spilled deep inside you.

You tried to catch your breath as he slumped half on top of you, his cock still inside you, his hot breath against your clavicle.

‘I hate you, Satoru’ you said after a while, irony dripping from your voice. You couldn’t continue pretending you did. You wanted him too much to delude yourself into thinking you hated him. He was annoying and vain, childish and a probable mistake, but he was addicting.

He laughed, opening a cobalt eye framed by snowy eyelashes and eyeing you.

‘Hate you too. Wanna go on a date with me?’

#gojo imagine #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut

[darklydeliciousdesires]

La Dolce Vita - John Shelby/Cosima Changretta (OFC).

So, I decided to begin this new little series of mine, besties. It shan't be delivered in regular chapter form, but a series of one-shot parts that will tell the story of John and Cosima's marriage, beginning from their wedding day. I hope you enjoy it :)

Words - 3,682

Warnings - Each part will be adult only content, from swearing to eventual smut and violence. Minors DNI.

Part I - Inferno

The blood of a thousand men could stain a thousand streets, cold, hard warfare spinning out of control in a haze of spatter and gunpowder, yet sometimes all it took was the presence of a woman to end it all. 

And it had.  

It didn’t mean the woman in question had to like it, though. 

“No.” The word fell from his lips with mild irritation as he took in the sight before him. “You will not wear black.” 

Cosima didn’t even attempt to hide her distain. “Why not? This is a death, after all.” 

Luca couldn’t help but feel entertained by her words, even though she was rapidly whittling him down to his very last nerve. “You are so dramatic, la mia sorellina.” She always had been. “It’s about time you were somebody’s wife, and you will make a good wife, too. Every man betrothed to an Italian woman should recognise how damned lucky he is.”  

“And me?” Her cadence rose sharply, her voice bordering on shrill. “What about me, Luca?” 

9:23am and already, he wished he’d had the sense to bring some aspirin with him. “You will do as you are told, Sima. And wear white while you do it.”  

The silky drawl of her brother never rose beyond the smooth hush he spoke with, but his words packed the same punch as they would have had he yelled them. He was also the only person alive who she allowed to shorten her name. People had called her Cos in school, swiftly ending up with a slapped face for it. Her Italian fire had been lit pretty much since the day she’d been born. “I wish I’d brought mama with me now.” 

His lip curled, a soft rumble of a laugh echoing his throat, sucking on the matchstick he pulled from between his lips as he pointed it at her. “We both know why you didn’t.” 

“Yes,” she chirped, admiring her reflection in the mirror, “you’re paying.”  

Again, she prompted his smile. Few did, really, save Anna Maria, his wife, as well as his sons, Joey and Guiseppe. “I am, cara mia. Listen, if you want the black dress, I’ll buy it for you. You won’t be married in it, though. Imagine if mama was here, eh? She’d be, ah, much more vocal than I about it.” 

This was true. Audrey would have taken over rather than sitting quietly like Luca. “I’m beginning to think she’d fuss much less than you.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Try on the next dress, for the love of god.”  

Huffing and cussing in their native tongue, Cosima flounced back behind the privacy screen, getting herself out of the dress, the nearby assistant helping her into the white lace gown. Her face was a picture of utter contempt upon emerging, raising her middle finger when Luca quietly applauded her appearance. 

“Perfect.” 

“I fucking hate it,” she sneered, the assistant’s eyes bulging a little at her coarse language. 

“Cosima, you would hate even the most exquisite of gowns, crafted by the finest of designers,” he pointed out, standing and walking to her slowly. He reached beneath her chin, raising it up, placing a little kiss upon her forehead. “You look beautiful. La belladonna. It is done.”  

His word was final, and she knew this well. It did not mean she had to be quiet or graceful in her compliance, though. Being wed to a Shelby, after all they had done, the war that had seen the deaths of both her treasured brother and beloved papa, was not a fate she relished in.  

Negotiations in order to cease the bloodshed and forge ahead in a new bond, running Shelby gin into New York with the assistance of her family and their connections had been sealed by a proposed joining of their families through marriage. Her marriage, to John Shelby.  

How she had screamed and complained when Luca had informed her of this truce sealing union. Glasses and ornaments had been smashed in tempestuous fury, Cosima’s ire reaching the kind of decibels that had taken Luca and Audrey much effort and nips of gin to quieten, the youngest of the Changretta clan storming from her mother’s home, walking the streets, chain smoking in blind fury.  

The only silver lining? At least Luca had not decreed that she marry the man who had killed her father, not that she actually could. For his sins, Arthur Shelby breathed no longer. Neither did Grace Shelby, nor Esme Shelby, the late wife of the man soon to be her husband, the gypsy beauty getting in the way of a hit meant for John on Christmas Day and lamentably not surviving it.  

And Cosima thought her hand dealt was bad. For John, it was decidedly bleaker by far.  

His brother was gone, his wife was gone, his sister-in-law was gone, and his fate was now bound to a person belonging to a family whom he couldn’t stand with any ounce of tolerance. Tolerance was what he had to show, though, in order to keep relations smoothed over, before anybody else ended up dead.  

“It’s a fresh start for us all, John boy,” Tommy began, standing in front of his brother, straightening his tie. “I don’t expect you to be happy about it, but...” 

“Good, ‘cos I ain’t,” he cut in with, his jaw tightening, refusing to meet his brother’s eye. “Esme is barely fucking cold, and you’ve got me marrying some wop bitch. Trust me, Tom. I ain’t fucking happy in the slightest.”   

The elder Shelby truly had no comeback for that. He knew his actions were a slap in the face to John, to Arthur, to Esme and to the love of his life, but there was no other way around it. He didn’t plan on losing anybody else to a war that could be negotiated through. It had been tough to bargain, but peace had been restored finally, Tommy reasoning that scores had been settled upon both sides of the divide.  

They were more than even. In fact, they truly weren’t, two lives on the Changretta side, three on the Shelby, two innocent women coming into the crossfire and dying because of it. He was not prepared to lose more. If he could also turn a very tidy profit while not losing more, then so be it.  

Finally, he managed to catch the icy stare of his brother, Tommy squeezing his shoulders. “Give it time. At least you’re getting wed to an attractive woman. Could have matched you to a right scrag, but I didn’t.” 

She could have been the queen of fucking Sheba for all John cared. Her beauty or lack thereof was neither here nor there. She wasn’t Esme, and that was all there was to it. “Gotta habit of this, you have, marrying me off to some bird I ain’t ever clapped eyes on until I get to the altar, all for the sake of keeping the peace.”  

There hadn’t been an actual altar at his wedding to Esme, but this time there was no room for negotiation. The priest local to the district Cosima Changretta lived in had been given a hefty bung to marry them, regardless of the fact that John was a non-practising Catholic. Usually, Father David would have required he at least attend weekly mass for a few months prior to the wedding, but this wasn’t possible when the union had been set up to take place within the space of a week from its original incarnation. 

Through his disesteem, John wasn’t blind to see the benefits of joining the families in order to broker peace, though. He just wished there was some other way, one that didn’t involve him forsaking his late wife’s memory, or literally getting into bed with a member of the very family who had taken three members of his. 

With a red rose buttonhole pinned to his charcoal suit – those specific flowers at Cosima’s request – they headed out to the waiting car, ready to be ferried across Birmingham to the district of Bournville, to St Francis of Assisi. 

“Holy shit, the waft of that bloody chocolate," Polly spoke from the back of the car, the famous Cadbury factory emitting the heady scent of it’s delicious confectionary. “Making my mouth water, it is.” 

“Well, as long as the air smells like Dairy fucking Milk, all’s right as rain, ain’t it, Pol?” John muttered, watching the little black and white houses dotted along the main road pass them by. It was such a different landscape than the one he was used to, the village of Bournville so very picturesque and quaint.  

Polly tutted. “Oi, less of your fucking lip, our John. Don’t make today any harder than it has to be by being a surly shit about it.”  

“Yeah, but...”  

She cut his protests dead with her usual blunt retort. “We know, for the love of god! You’ve vented your spleen so hard at this, I’m surprised you have one left! This isn’t ideal, but it’ll bring us peace and let me rest my fucking head easy at night, not worrying when the next of my fucking nephew’s is going to end up riddled with bullet holes. Now, put your fucking face straight. We’re nearly there.”  

He could have begun his protests once more, vented at how it wasn’t right that he was being thrown into wedlock again just four months after his second wife had died, how at thirty years old, he shouldn’t have already had to attend the funerals of two Mrs. Shelby’s, but he knew it would serve him little good.  

Arriving at the church, they made their way inside, John surprised to be greeted kindly by Audrey Changretta, who was standing talking to the verger.  

“A lot of water has gone under the bridge, John. All I want going forward is for you to be a good man to my Cosima. Can you do that for me, love?” 

His heartstrings were yanked upon hard, knowing how much his actions had devastated her. She looked weary from it all, the sparkle in her eyes non-existent. He’d never wanted her to be hurt in all of this, the teacher he held so many fond memories of, the woman he had steadfastly refused to murder in cold blood. “I can. I promise I will.”  

She patted his cheek, smiling thinly. That smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and for that he couldn’t blame her. “Thank you.” She exchanged nods with Polly and Tommy, the Shelby’s moving into the church, smiling to their family and friends as they passed the pews, the Changretta presence outnumbering them by about two to one.  

He and Tommy stood to the side of the altar, Polly taking a seat at the first pew between Finn and Ada, the latter giving the groom-to-be a bolstering smile. It had little of its desired effect, John feeling a cold swirl of discomfort growing chillier by the moment. “Forgive me, Esme. I fucking wish this weren’t happening just as much as I wish you were still here, love.”  

His deeply lamenting thoughts were banished by the sound of the organ keys pressed upon, the church filling with music as the congregation stood, Father David quickly shaking both his and Tommy’s hands before his focus shifted towards the doors, beaming as he watched Cosima escorted in by her brother. The bride looked exquisite in her white lace gown, her cascading veil shrouding her face, the dress very quintessentially Italian in fashion. 

John didn’t dare turn around and watch her walk to him, only aware of her arrival at his side from the strong plume of Chanel perfume entering his nose, finally turning to see Luca gently lift her veil, kissing her cheek and whispering a few words in Italian to her. He then moved to John, surprising him by offering his hand.  

“To famiglia, eh?” 

“Yeah,” he coughed, shaking it. The Italian’s grip was like Iron, his face unflinching. There was no true warmth there. “To family.”  

Luca moved to sit at his mother’s side, John finally letting his eyes fall to his left, taking her in for the first time. His throat tightened in an instant. He’d thought Esme to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, the guilt of the fact that Cosima Changretta was the biggest knockout he’d ever witnessed hitting him hard.  

As for his soon to be wife, when her piercing blue eyes found his, the sensation of her heart skipping on three consecutive beats made her feel a little nauseous for a moment.  

He was gorgeous.  

Why did he have to be gorgeous? It would have made hating him so much easier if he’d been ugly.  

“At least I will have something nice to look at, while I’m throwing plates at his head.” She thought, turning to the priest and smiling as best she could, given the circumstances.  

The ceremony was a long, tedious affair, the bride wishing for a traditional mass that bored the balls off John. He did well to hide it, though. What he failed miserably at was looking in any way, shape or form happy when they were pronounced man and wife, offering her a chaste kiss to the cheek, a speedy peck of non-affection. Cosima was relieved he hadn’t leaned to her mouth. She wasn’t ready for that yet.  

Taking his arm, she walked back down the aisle as the newest member of the Shelby family, her eyes sad as she looked at her mother and brother. They smiled at her with loving pride, Cosima dropping her chin, lest they see the tears in her eyes as she walked alongside her new husband, a man she couldn’t stand. True, she knew nothing of John Shelby, other than what he’d had a hand in taking from her.  

With every step, she had to physically prevent herself from gathering the bridal lace swathing her slender curves and running, back to Acacia Road, back to the family home. This was where she desired to be, out in the flower filled back garden tending to her roses, taking cuttings of herbs ready to be brought into the kitchen and tutored by her darling mother in everything from Carbonara to baked Ziti. 

She longed for the scents of her mother’s pasta, to hear her father’s key in the door, his whistled tunes filling the homestead as she’d wipe her hands upon her apron and run to greet him. Her papa, the man she loved and respected the very most. Gone.  

“You erm, you look beautiful, Cosima.”  

His face did not match his compliment, Cosima looking up at her new husband, her face stony. “I know. Shame my dream wedding didn’t come with the dream groom, though.”  

John sniffed, his eyebrow tilting a fraction. “Ahh, you might still get it yet. We can get divorced and give it another go with other people. Who knows? I could nail it lucky the fourth time around.” 

Her eyes widened. “You’ve been married twice before?”  

“Ar.” 

“And what the blinking hell happened to them?” she demanded, wondering just what her brother had gotten her into, marrying her off to a man who was on his third wife. 

“They died, if you must know,” he frowned, reaching the end of the aisle, the door opening, a cascade of confetti hurled at them from the throng of guests exiting behind them. 

“Lucky them.” Her mutter was drowned out by the sound of happy cheers, or at least she thought it had been. Her new husband had heard it, though, wanting nothing more than to slap her in her rude mouth for her coldly delivered statement. 

“Great, got myself hitched to a stunner and she’s a right nasty little mare.” he spoke, certainly loud enough for her to hear, releasing the hold upon her arm and moving to receive congratulations from his family. Cosima narrowed her eyes at him in his wake, turning to smile brightly at her friends, her hands taken in theirs, cheeks kissed, her heart thrumming with waves of sadness. A right nasty little mare. That’s what he thought of her, Cosima’s indignance burning brightly for a while, not able to reflect upon the fact that what she’d said had indeed been very spiteful.  

At twenty-three, she truly should have known better. With two dead wives behind him and a bitterness that still lingered beneath the surface between the two families, she guessed he was likely as thrilled to be married to her as she was to him. An apology perhaps wouldn’t go amiss.  

Once they’d posed for a few photographs, the bride and groom were shown to the waiting Rolls Royce Silver Cloud, John holding the door open for her, following her in and staring stonily out of the window as they pulled away from the church.  

She felt awkward and ashamed of her words, moving her thumb back and forth over one of the large thorns the florist had neglected to remove from the bouquet of red roses. “John, I apologise for what I said, about your late wives being lucky. I only meant that... I don’t know what I meant, actually.” 

She was met by a cold, two worded statement. “Fuck off.”  

Deserved, to be fair. Predictably, Cosima let it spark at her kindling rather than rushing for water, though. “That’s impossible, now I’m your wife. Don’t bloody pout at me. I said something regrettable, but because of your family I don’t have Angel or my father any longer. You yourself are directly responsible for the former. If you hadn’t beaten him within an inch of his life, he wouldn’t have lay vulnerable in hospital, ripe for the plucking. And let’s not forget that scumbag of a brother of yours, who killed my papa.” 

He tutted, chewing his toothpick with hostility. “Don’t act like you’re the only one who lost somebody you loved. Fucking gone right over your head, ain’t it? Because of your family, I lost me wife, brother and sister-in-law. We’re in the same boat, Cosima.” 

“You started all of this. You could have just let Lizzie be happy with Angel, but no! You had to burn his restaurant to the fucking ground. What is it you dumb Shelby fucks say, hmm? By order of the Peaky Blinders, that’s it! Your way or the highway!” 

Bile began licking at his insides. “Your brother weren’t good enough for Lizzie. She’s a good woman, and he was a fucking duplicitous shit. Didn’t even have the balls to use his real name for half his dealings. At least we stand by who we fucking are.” 

Her rage escalated by the second, staring at him incredulously. “My brother had the sense to be clandestine, and you will not speak of him like you knew him! So, he partnered with your enemies, so fucking what? The way you Shelby’s conduct yourself, you make enemies left and fucking right! You took my family away from me for nothing. Nothing!” 

John eyed her viciously, his eyes losing any trace of warmth. “They fucking deserved it, and you, you spoiled little wop bitch? You deserve nothing less than every fucking ounce of my contempt. We’re married in name only, believe me. Ain’t no way I’m gonna be a good husband to you, no matter what I promised your mom.” 

“Fine by me!”  

The air virtually crackled with their mutual distain, Cosima shuffling as far as she could get away from him, muttering cusses in Italian. 

“I know what testa di cazzo means,” he spat. 

“Good!” she fumed, “I want you to know I think you’re a dickhead!” 

The reception was being held at a small hotel local to the church, Cosima storming out of the car and not looking back, fixing a huge, fake smile to her face as she was welcomed by the staff. Immediately, her eyes locked onto a waiter carrying a tray of champagne filled flutes, taking one and knocking it back. A second was reached for, John arriving at her side.  

“Whiskey please, mate. Fucking large one.” 

The waiter nodded. “At once, sir.”  

They stood together to welcome their guests, both repelled by one another’s presence, going through the motions of everything. Cake cutting, first dance, spending as much time as they could away from one another. It was while John was seeking the solace of quiet and fresh night air much later that evening, standing on the rear patio of the hotel smoking a cigar, that he found himself joined by the last person he expected. 

“Can I give you some advice, John?” 

Turning to Luca, he raised an eyebrow, the tall Italian continuing. “If you want a quiet life with my sister, you need to keep her in the lifestyle she’s become accustomed to. I love that girl to her bones, but she’s a fucking spoiled princess.” 

His eyes widened. “You can say that again.” 

Luca’s mouth twitched, removing the toothpick he’d been idly chewing on. “My father bent to her every whim, being his only daughter. She was daddy’s little girl. Roses, diamonds, furs, French perfume, she loves all of that. You treat her good and she’ll be sweet with you. And make sure she has a garden. That kid lives for horticulture.” 

Luckily, he was wealthy enough to provide such luxuries for his new bride, not that he wanted to. Not that she deserved even one of them. “Noted.”  

He nodded, turning to leave his new brother-in-law to it, pausing suddenly as he pointed the toothpick in his grasp at him. “Oh, and John? She’s got a thing for hurling plates. Learn to duck.” Laughing to himself, he carried on back into the hotel, while John felt a prickle of annoyance at his statement, or rather how much pleasure he’d derived from delivering the news that Cosima was nothing short of a bad-tempered handful.  

Standing out there alone, he did hope that one day he might see her as something different. Whether that day would come swiftly or not was anybody’s guess, though. 

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby x ofc #peaky blinders fanfiction #luca changretta fanfiction #john shelby smut #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #john shelby x oc #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic

[eunoia-writes]

Everything • Conrad Fisher

Warnings : mentions of blood

Summery: After Conrad screwed y/n over for Belly he was stupid to think she’d help him when he turned up at her door in the middle of the night, Right?

She hadn't seen Conrad in months, well Since he made it official with whatever this girls name was. So when he showed up at her door shivering, bleeding and fucking terrified she was beyond confused.

"Connie…. What are you doing here?" She asked He looked up at her with that oh so familiar look, the look at had her at his mercy so many times before, the look she hated yet adored. He was swaying slightly the boy was most definitely concussed. Conrad had bruises scatter across his exposed torso. The Hawaiian shirt he was wearing was now covered in his own blood. Y/n wondered how a party at the fishers vacation house private beach she’d seen on everyone’s Instagrams had ended with Conrad in such a way.

"didn't know where else to go." He whispered almost as if he was embarrassed to say those words. He wasn’t embarrassed of what happened that lead him to her door, no he was embarrassed that he could be so stupid to think she’d help him after everything he’d put her though.

But she did.

Y/n struggling to help him inside. He could hardly hold his own weight leaving y/n to do most of the world as she managed to get him into the house. Y/n sat him down on the couch careful too not to hurt him more than he already was. When he was settled she moved to go get the first aid kit only for him to quickly grab her hand

"don't go." He whispered she sighed softly giving in to his words without a second thought. God the power his words had over her. The simplest of words had her following his every command.

sitting on the coffee table in front of him she looked him up and down once letting out yet another sigh "what happened?" She asked as he looked anywhere but her when he didn't answer she just stood up shaking her head slightly.

He panicked slightly thinking she was about to tell him to go fuck himself and too get out of her apartment. As she probably should. "where are you going?" He said looking up at her with that same doe eyed look.

That stupid look.

"to get the first aid kit if you're not gonna tell me what happened at least let me help you." She said before waking into the bathroom. She took a second looking in the mirror above the sink disappointed in herself. She turned the faucet on leaning down slightly to splash her face with some water as way to stop herself from crying on the spot before standing back up and throwing the cabinet door open grabbing the first aid kit. She didn’t bother closing the cabinet door as she left the bathroom making her way back to the boy after stopping at the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before wondering back into the living room.

"Take these." She said handing him the water and a few aspirin he mumbled a thanks before taking them. Y/n opened the first aid kit grabbing the alcohol wipes as he just watched. She tried to ignore his staring all while she whipped his knuckles placing two band-aids on his hand before she tried to find a position that was best for her to tend to his injuries but struggled to get close enough.

"you mind if I?" She asked before Conrad shook his head not caring what she had to do. Y/n moved to stradale his lap so they were just millimetres away. Conrads hands came to rest on her thighs she almost flinched at his touch but held herself together refusing to let him see her vulnerable side at that moment in time

"it's gonna sting." She told him bringing the antiseptic wipes to the cut on his lip his body jerk but he was careful not to hurt her regardless

"Fuck!" He yelped through gritted teeth pulling his head away while gripping her thigh before letting her at it once again. she softly wiped over the cut getting rid of the now dried blood

"I'm sorry." Y/n said she said before moving to his cheek but Conrad grabbed her hand before she had the chance to wipe the rest of the blood off his face. She dropped her hand pulling back slightly which proved to be difficult with his arm firmly wrapped around her waist. She looked down at her hands wanting nothing more for the group to swallow her up right then and there. “You gonna tell me what happened? Or do I have to wait for Jeremiah to turn up at the door asking if you’re here?” She tried to make the conversation about anything but them

“It doesn’t Matter.”

“It does to me.”

"please." He whispered his free hand coming to her chin to tilt her head to look at him which she’d refused to do so far.

"I broke up with Belly." He said she just nodded. Obviously. Obviously he'd broke up with her or why else would he be here. Only reason he was there was because he didn't have belly to fall back on anymore But he knew y/n would be there despite how many times he'd crushed her heart.

"Talk to me." Conrad whispered she didn't know what to say instead her head fell into his chest as she let out a soft sob he wrapped his arms around her just letting her cry

"I'm sorry." He said over and over

"I can't keep doing this Con," She said looking up at him "You can't keep checking in and out of my heart. I won't let you do it anymore." She said he knew he'd fucked things with y/n he was selfish. He wanted to say something but he knew it was just best to let her get everything out

“I fucking pathetic, you make me feel pathetic. I still have that stupid letter you wrote saying how there was no one else like me how it would always be me but I guess that was bullshit, right? because there's been what? 6? 7? other girls you've probably given the same stupid fucking letter too!" She said as tears rushed down her face. Conrad shook his head. He hated that he was the reason she was crying.

He hated hurting her.

"that not true…. there is no one like you I meant everything I said in that letter You are the only girl I'll ever want in my life.” He said his hand coming to her cheek to wipe her tears away. Conrad was holding his tears in just as much as she was letter hers out.

"Then why…. you knew I loved you. You told me belly was just like Family, that I had nothing to worry about although we weren’t official I was yous and you were mine. You promised me that I wouldn’t get hurt.” She whispered her voice was hardly there but he heard every word.

“I was scared."

"of what?”

"The way I felt I've never been so consumed by the thought of someone, I couldn't focus. I quit football because i couldn’t think of anything but you …. it scared me I didn't think I was capable of loving someone that much I had to do anything to distract myself,” He rambled trying to get every possible word of his chest as she just listened

“I was already terrified of losing my mom that adding to the sick feeling in my stomach of the possibility that if I told you you'd laugh in my face so I went with the easy option. I knew belly was the safest bet. I knew i couldn’t get hurt. but when I gave you that letter and you told me you felt that same I didn't know what to do I was so scared I'd fuck things up and lose you for good. It was easier to run away from it ." He told her feeling a weight lift off his shoulder she didn't say anything just sighed and picked up the wipes again continuing cleaning him up.

"This is the last time I'm doing this Connie.. you hurt me again and there's no more us… not as friends, not as anything.” She warned

"I swear on everything I'll never hurt you again"

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

#conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher #conrad #the summer i turned pretty x y/n #the summer i turned pretty x you #tsitp x reader #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty x reader #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #tsitp imagine

[still-with-koo]

T-Shirt | JJK

summary: you wake up in your friend’s bed after spending last night partying at his sister’s wedding as his fake girlfriend.

pairing: jungkook x reader

wc: 1043

genre: friends to maybe something more

warnings/genre/rating: 13+, swearing; mentions of alcohol; mentions of grinding and kissing; and this is all obviously made up, none of it’s real

a/n: i kinda want to ask you not to read it?? jk’s ck shoot forced me to post this so venture at your own peril.

Fuck.

You groan as sunlight hits your eyes. Last night is still running through your veins and suddenly you feel sick. The taste in your mouth tells you it’s not the first time.

It’s only when you sit upright that you realize you’re not in your own bed. Pulling off the covers in exaggerated annoyance, you’re met with a glass of water, an aspirin, and an irritatingly bright, smiling face. The amused grin on Jungkook’s face tells you he’s enjoying this.

“I hate morning people,” you say, taking the pills from him.

“Good thing I’m not a morning person,” he replies, still smiling.

Of course he has to be insufferable this early in the morning, even after the big favour you did for him yesterday.

“I’m never being your fake girlfriend again,” you say, right before downing the glass of water. “Your work party was bad enough, but your sister’s wedding? Do you know how many people asked me when you and I are getting married?” You shudder, pushing him aside as you get off the bed. “Never again.”

You take some time to freshen up and when you return Jungkook is on his phone. You stare at him long enough for him to notice you in the doorway. When he looks up at you, you point to your t-shirt.

His t-shirt.

“Tell me you didn’t undress me last night.”

“You did most of the undressing yourself, actually,” he says nonchalantly, and then goes back to scrolling through his phone. As if he didn’t just tell you he saw you naked.

“What?”

He looks up again, grinning this time. “You were pretty drunk and thought your dress was on fire.”

“But you didn’t look, right?”

“Of course not,” he says, “I’m a gentleman.”

You sigh with relief, salvaging the tiniest bit of dignity you have left.

“By the way, when did you get that tattoo on your ass?”

If your head wasn’t throbbing, you would walk over and slap that stupid grin off his pretty face.

“I’m getting out of here,” you say, scanning the room for your discarded clothes. Surprisingly, they’re folded on his now made bed.

You turn back to Jungkook and notice the sunlight illuminating his features.

He’s pretty. Like, super pretty.

You hate it.

But it begs the question… why does someone like him need a fake girlfriend?

That’s a question you’ve asked so many times, it’s lost all meaning.

“I see the way those girls at your work look at you. Why didn’t you just ask one of them out?”

“Not my type.”

“What? Gorgeous, intelligent women aren’t your type?”

He stares at you for a long time. Then he returns to his phone, muttering something under his breath that you can’t quite catch.

You scoff. “Well, I’m not going to any these things again.”

He snorts, setting his phone down and giving you a hard look. “You don’t handle alcohol that well. Why did you drink so much?”

You think back to the wedding. It was a lovely wedding, if you’re being honest. His parents were very kind to you and the food was pretty great.

Truthfully, it wasn’t until the reception that things turned sour. Last you remember, a beautiful girl in a tight dress pulled Jungkook into a slow dance. And then the wine started tasting good. Really good. And you might have joined them on the dance floor at some point, grinding against some fellow with very grey hair.

You groan. “I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

A bemused look crosses his face. “Why?”

“I made a fool of myself last night. I must have embarrassed you in front of your family.”

“You didn’t embarrass me. My family thinks you’re charming.”

You give him a quizzical look.

“And my uncle wants your number.”

You groan again, covering your face with your hands.

“I’m never going anywhere as your fake girlfriend again.”

Without skipping a beat, Jungkook leans over to grab his phone as he replies. “How about going as my real girlfriend?”

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “Be serious, Jungkook.”

You and Jungkook have been friends for years. You’re mature enough to admit there has always been some sexual tension between you two, but you have both kept things platonic.

“Well, I don’t want to go to these stupid functions on my own,” he mutters, eyes glued to his phone.

“Then just take some girl you like, instead of forcing me to go with you.”

“What if I like you?” He says it so easily you wonder if it’s always been at the tip of his tongue all these years just waiting to jump out.

Or maybe he’s just teasing you.

You look at him closely, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards as he continues to stare at his phone.

Oh, he’s definitely teasing you.

“Yeah you’re definitely in love with me,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “But next time go with someone you want to date.”

“And if that’s still you?” This time he looks up, brows quirking up as he scans your face.

“You trying to make me throw up or something?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“What do you want then?” You wriggle your brows suggestively but it’s over the top, clearly a joke, so it takes you by surprise when he gets up and walks towards you with a look in his eyes so intense you start to feel a little warm.

Within seconds he’s in front of you. He leans in, his warm breath tickling your skin. You inhale and hold it there.

Waiting.

Why does it feel like he’s about to kiss you?

When he leans in closer, your eyes shut without thinking and your face tilts upwards to meet him. Seconds pass like hours and finally you feel his hand cupping your jaw, a dark, gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine.

“I want my shirt back.”

Jungkook is back in his chair, smirking like the devil before you even realize what he’s said.

And when you do, rage rises in your throat as you fight off the urge to become apoplectic. “Fine,” is all you can manage, ripping his calvin klein t-shirt from your body and slamming the door behind you before he has a chance to stop you. You’re already in the elevator and putting your dress back on when your phone starts blowing up with calls from Jungkook.

You don’t care, though. You’re done being his fake girlfriend.

And you’re done being his friend.

woo you made it! hope you enjoyed 🤍

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #lilo fics #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #bts imagine #honestly don’t know if posting this is a good idea but we’ll see 😭