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selfcarecap · 2 years

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Never Have I Ever [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

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

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

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

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

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

But he has nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Probably. Do you have your schedule yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But his smile fades when he hears your next words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friendship blooms effortlessly and quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

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

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

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

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

Peter’s heart stops beating for a second.

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

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

“Professor Garfield.”

“Oh. Well, I-I think that‘s illegal.”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’d do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To a.. a sex shop?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I’ll be fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. But stay, you’re warm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, leave it on,” you tell him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With you, Peter feels loved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is what good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to,” you grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It smells heavenly, just like everything else about you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter?” Your voice is quiet.

“Mhm?”

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

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

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

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

“What–”

You lean in and kiss Peter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

“I have some tissues in my bag.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” you try not to laugh, “Sorry.”

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

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

“What?” You ask.

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go on.”

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

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

“R-really? You’re not mad?”

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

“I do want my panties back though.”

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

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

He immediately stops the car and leans over.

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

“I’ll take anything,” Peter pleads.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bro, you okay?

I heard a weird noise

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

Brian: About time, happy for you!

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

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

“Peter?”

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

“Yeah?”

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

“It did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad my charm worked on you.”

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

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

“Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know you will.”

You share a small kiss, Peter intertwining your hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanna see you though.”

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

“Then let’s change it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you wanna eat my pussy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m getting cold,” you say.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love kissing you.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna be my boy—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I use it on you?”

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

“I’d love to do that.”

You grin and start kissing him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say that because I will.”

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

“Wait, you mean with a condom right?”

You laugh and nod, kissing him on the nose.

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

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

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

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

“No, no. Just give me a second.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” he smiles, “You.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t want to drag you into his unnecessary jealousy and insecurity. “No-nothing,” he presses his lips together in a smile and you walk him into a quiet corner.

“What is it?” You sit down and pat the seat next to you for Peter to sit down.

“Well. I don’t know. It’s just, we usually sit together in this class and then we didn’t get to sit together and then you ended up next to a guy you know and I just…” It’s the shortened and less embarrassing version.

You smile, half with pity and half out of amusement, but he knows you’re not trying to make fun of him. “You were jealous? Of Brandon?”

“I don’t know. Kinda. I‘d honestly rather have you look at Andrew’s ass than have you talk to Brandon and giggle at everything he says and–like, I don’t even know him and I just felt insecure because I didn’t feel like I was a part of it,” he looks down, taking a deep breath, “Sorry, of course I don’t mean it like that. Obviously it’s fine if you have male friends. I was just wondering why you haven’t told me about him, because I remember him from the party the first time we met and I realised you never brought him up. And then I got so into my head about being jealous that I felt even worse and now I can’t even tell the jealousy from the being-mad-at-myself apart.”

“Okay, take my hand,” you say, “I love you. And-”

“I love you too,” Peter grins instantly, leaning over to kiss you.

“So, I didn’t tell you about Brandon because I wasn’t thinking about him. If he was important to me I would have introduced you two ages ago. I didn't even realise I was in this class until today. I met him the same night I met you and I was talking to a group of people before we played that game where he told that sex story. But wait.. Peter,” you furrow your eyebrows, “So you remember the story Brandon told?”

“I remember that he told a story, but I was too busy looking at you and being grateful that you helped me out of the situation.”

“Well, his story was about the first time he had sex with his boyfriend. And they’re still together.”

“Oh,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Now I feel even worse. Why was I so jealous about a guy who has a boyfriend?”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve been attached at the hip lately, so of course we're not used to being apart. I’m sure we’ll get used to it in a few days. But you’re jealous for the first time and we’re already talking about it, I’m sure we’ll sort it out. I promise we’ll work it out together.”

He pecks your lips again, “Thank you. I think I was way more surprised about my jealousy than actually being jealous. I trust you and I love you and I do that more and more every day. It’s just that I want you so much that I assume every guy feels the same, because why wouldn’t they? Forgive me if I project that onto them and don’t trust them. But I trust you and that’s what matters and what I’ll try to rely on. I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of something small.”

“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you told me how you feel. You’re already not jealous anymore and you’re talking about it and working it out. That’s what matters. You recognise that it’s unreasonable but jealousy is a normal emotion.”

He gives you a small smile, already understanding himself better thanks to you. You’re right, jealousy is something everyone feels from time to time. He’ll learn how to deal with it, and now that he’s with you, feeling loved and appreciated, he can’t even imagine ever being jealous again. He can tell his love is reciprocated. He trusts you, and that’s all he needs.

You sit together for another while, smiling and saying goodbye when Professor Garfield walks past you. You wait until he’s turned around the corner to say, “Wait, what did you say about his ass earlier?”

Peter chuckles, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the first time we had this lesson you said something about how nice his ass is.”

“Oh, now I remember. But your ass is the only ass I wanna look at now, you know that?”

“Really?”

“Really. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I was interested in anyone else’s ass.”

There’s a comfortable warmth in Peter’s chest at you calling him his boyfriend. He’ll always be happy to be that.

“Well,” he thinks out loud, “There are some guys with nice asses, I can’t deny that. But then we can both admire them, okay? Together.”

You laugh, “You’re so cute. Okay, I’ll let you know when I see a nice ass and we’ll appreciate it together.”

“Good,” Peter smiles, okay with you liking other people’s asses because, after all, those asses don’t have this great connection with you like he does. He’s so much to you than a person with a cute ass.

“But your ass is the nicest,” he adds.

“Thank you," you laugh and kiss his cheek.

You lean back on your hands and tilt your head towards your shoulder. This time Peter feels warmth rushing elsewhere.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about during the whole lesson?”

He nods.

“I was thinking,” you look around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear, “about how I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth.”

Peter’s heart starts beating twice as fast as it usually does, “My-my- my dick? In your- why would— do you want it to be in your mouth?”

“I do. I had a dream about it last night. And I was gonna wait until tonight to do it but maybe we should do it now to relax you.”

“I.. don’t know if relax is the right word,” he says.

“I’ll do it to show you that I only like you then. And because I really need you.”

Peter’s face falls, “No, shit, I have this class now… no, nevermind, let’s go to my room–”

“No, we said our education and college come first, and that we wouldn’t let our academic performance fall off because of each other.”

“Yeah but I didn’t know that that meant saying no to you…” he looks at his lap and back at you again.

“To me sucking your dick?” You’re teasing him on purpose now but despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants he’s enjoying it.

“Y-yeah..”

“Go to your class now and I’ll see you tonight,” you kiss him and get up.

“No wait–”

“Bye, baby,” you call out and walk away.

A class has never lasted as long as Peter’s next class. He leaves his bunched up hoodie on his lap the whole time even though he’s cold in just the shirt he’s wearing.

After class, he runs home, going to his dorm room first but you’re not there so he rushes to your room instead. You open the door as if Peter hasn’t been suffering for the past two hours, giving him a quick kiss and sitting back down to read a book.

He gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, “Please. You can’t be serious right now. I need you.”

You pat the bed next to you and he lies down with a sigh, hoping to get your attention but you keep reading; maybe he can take a nap to make the time pass quicker. You pretend to read for another minute or two and then grin at Peter and straddle him, starting to kiss him.

“Sorry, I thought it would be fun to tease you but I don’t know what I was thinking. I really want you.”

He’s panting into your mouth after a few moments, already feeling relief as you pull at his belt, taking off Peter’s pants and your and his shirt.

“Let me know uh, how I’m doing,” you say as you get down on your knees in front of the bed.

Your words clear Peter’s mind for a second and he leans down to give you a kiss, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, by the way.”

You shake your head, “No, I really want to. I just don’t know what to do, so, be patient with me.”

“Always,” he reaches for your hand to kiss it, “So I guess you just– oh my god.” He moans as your mouth wraps around him, all wet and warm.

He makes the mistake of looking at you, the head of his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips against his skin, eyes big and gorgeous and so innocent. He’s close so quickly and motions for you to stop.

“Everything okay?” You ask, already knowing what’s going on though. Peter’s eyes go to your chest, perfect tits pushed together by a pretty bra. If you take that off he doesn’t want to know how fast he’ll cum.

“Yes, more than okay. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I do, but Peter, this is torture for me,” you say seriously.

“What?” He sits up straighter.

“I wanna make you cum so so bad, please just let me, I don’t care how long you last.” You sound so horny that it makes Peter’s cock just that much harder in the way only happens when he’s with you, never when he’s alone.

“Okay. But try to go slow, I wanna enjoy it as long as I can.”

You smirk and he already knows you’ll give it your all, but while he wants to enjoy it as long as possible, he also really wants to cum.

You wrap a hand around him, slapping his dick against your tongue a few times, putting on a show for him. But once you wrap your lips around him, there’s no stopping you.

Peter’s skin glistens with a mixture of your spit and his precum and you keep taking him deeper and deeper until all of him disappears in your mouth. “Fuuuck,” he groans, huffing with a smile, accepting that he’s about to cum.

You start going faster, your wet mouth making a loud, obscene sound against his skin. Peter lies down on his back, barely able to keep his noises in.

“God– oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” his mouth falls open as he cranes his neck to look at you taking his dick. He puts a hand on your head, feeling your every movement up and down his cock.

He cums right down your throat as soon you start moaning, mouth stuffed full of Peter’s dick. You taste the first few drops and then jerk him off so his cum lands on your cheek and the sight is so dirty yet so beautiful.

You’re both panting when Peter is finished and you’re smiling at each other, in silent agreement that that was one of the hottest things you two have ever experienced. Your smile has something shy to it too, unsure how you look with Peter’s cum on your face.

But he’s looking at you with pure admiration, not believing how lucky he is for a bit before pulling you up to kiss you.

“Wait, Pete, you’ll get cu–”

“I don’t care.”

He kisses your mouth, and tasting himself on you is the sexiest thing in the world. He kisses his cum off your skin, connecting your lips afterwards, his tongue in your mouth until the cum is gone.

He wipes his mouth, asking something he’s been thinking about for a while, and he can’t go a second longer without it. “Do you wanna sit on my face?”

You’re taking off your clothes before the question even fully leaves his mouth and he takes in the sight of the prettiest woman alive getting undressed in front of him, for him.

He licks his lips when you slip out of your panties, the holy place between your legs shiny with arousal that’s started running down your thighs.

“You’re so wet.. from going down on me?” He asks, grabbing your thighs as you come closer, straddling him.

You simply nod and while you’re making your way up Peter’s body there’s a moment where your eyes meet for more than a few seconds. You don’t say anything, there’s just mutual appreciation and adoration for one another.

This is something good. Maybe it’s the best thing in the world. It is the best thing in the world.

“I love you,” he says, feeling so much more than those three simple words.

“I love you,” you say, your eyes holding such intensity that he doesn’t think there’s a single person in the world who has ever been as loved as Peter is by you.

He hopes he’s making you feel like the Goddess he sees you as, he adores every inch of you, all the things you’ve ever said to him and every second he’s spent with you.

The moment feels like it goes on forever, and at some point, you both move your heads towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss.

He grabs your ass, ready to drown in your pussy and to make you cum as many times as you want.

“Can I…?” You ask as you lower yourself.

Peter pulls you towards his face and makes love to you all night.

You spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms, feeling like the luckiest people on earth and you probably are.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #Peter Parker x you #Peter Parker x y/n #Spiderman x reader #Spiderman smut #peter parker fluff #fem!reader #college!Peter Parker #Peter Parker fanfiction #spider man: no way home #peter parker #tom holland #Peter Parker college au #peter parker friends to lovers

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ipegchangbin · 1 year

Text

— smudgeproof

sub!model!felix x dom!makeup artist!reader

There’s a new lipstick that claims to be make-out-proof. You, with your makeup expertise, naturally decide to test it on your model boyfriend, Felix: except he’s the one that gets to wear it.

🏷 gender neutral afab reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics), smut, fluff, some humor, established relationship, porn with barely any plot.

🏷 petnames “mommy” and “baby girl,” unprotected sex, feminization kink, slight oral and hand fixation, marking, butt plug (felix using), thigh riding, fingering (felix receiving), overstimulation, male squirting, lots of teasing, voyeurism mention, no specifics about y/n’s physique.

w/c: 8.8k

a/n: happy (hopefully not late) valentine’s day! to celebrate, i finally present to you the long overdue felix-gets-fucked fic! based on my thought piece, this concept has been on my mind ever since. i kept rewriting this fic but i drew the header art so fast LMAO icb i finished it!! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

On slow days, you would often find yourself bored in the makeup store. Your boyfriend, Lee Felix, would probably be just as bored, sitting in the chair of his set. Your notifications were as empty as the barren shop.

After two aimless scrolls down your Instagram feed, you realized that you hadn’t posted anything recently and hadn’t texted Felix that day.

The afternoon sun brought in waves of humid air throughout the city, setting everyone back from a trip around the shops. You peered over at the conversation with your boyfriend as you thought about ways to kill time.

It wasn’t uncommon to go for a while without contacting each other. It had been years since you two became official, after all, and comfortable silence had become a given that you both simply indulged in. That didn’t take your mind off of the boredom, though, and your fingers itched to do something. They found Felix’s contact on your phone, bedazzled with an embarrassing nickname and profile picture.

It stung to think that if you weren’t looking at his endearing profile, you would instead settle for some sort of creeping guilt of not posting anything on your social media page after a while. Either way, you shot him a message.

you: lix, wya? you: im bored as hell

Considering Felix’s work as a professional model, he would probably reply in less than ten minutes. You thought to turn your phone off and play with the freshly-cleaned makeup brushes on the makeup store’s vanity counter while waiting.

But this is Lee Felix, the sunshine of your days, and you didn’t have to wait any longer than two seconds.

lixie: Am at the shoot I told u about lixie: Bored too tbh LOL

Even if he typed in a silly way, you couldn’t help but love him.

He’d always been your go-to person to unwind and be yourself around. Starting as best friends gave you both a jumpstart to be comfortable around the other. People would say it worked a little too well especially since you two had become the most seriously unserious couple in the creative industry.

That fact made him understand you more than anyone else: you were both creatives. Your heart belonged to the artistic liberties of makeup and beauty, while his heart belonged to the ethereal realm of modeling and fashion. Your two hearts found each other, which was almost perfect for the adjacent businesses. He collaborated with you on makeup challenges. You came to his sets as his “preferred makeup artist.” He understood you whenever you ranted about stupid trends and declining engagement in your channels.

With that, could tell him about your uneventful day and equally uneventful social media pages, but you refrained from complaining more than dropping a passing mention.

you: idrk what to do there are no customers you: and i havent posted anything new you: but its not like theres much to do lixie: Well you’re the genius one here! lixie: Got art block or something?

The prompt response caught you off guard. Almost as if you have forgotten, this was Felix, and he always sensed whenever something was wrong.

As if he had some sort of radar or emotion detector, he always just knew how you were. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had always been in the proximity of your face, observing your concentration as you put eyeliner on him before shooting. Maybe that connection stuck with him after years of being together, and it had remained strong to the point that he could feel it from miles away, staring emptily into the face of some other random MUA.

Alas, you found yourself overthinking again. You would rather overthink about your relationship than your semi-abandoned creative efforts, though.

you: well i guess you can call it that. im just conscious since i havent really posted you: idk what to do next. ive done everything lixie: How about, “Boyfriend does my makeup drunk edition”? :D you: boring ! lixie: “Makeup tut but bf does my voiceover”? :D you: just because it got views doesnt mean its worth doing a fifth time >:(( lixie: I’m kidding LOL

The scowl on your face reflected on the mirror sitting in front of you. You knew that if only Felix saw it right now, he would have lost his mind trying to turn it upside down.

You were right though. You two did everything.

My boyfriend does my makeup? Done, and he did an okay job at it. “The boy beat” makeup tutorial featuring Felix? Damn right he did. Boyfriend does my voiceover? It was so good that you guys did it four times and everyone fell in love with the deep timbre of his voice contrasted with his surprising amount of knowledge. Even if it was easy to collaborate with him, it was hard to create something new and unique. On the contrary, your audience fell in love with you two. It’s nice to watch a model and a stylist practice their art together.

Lost for ideas, you decided just to tease him instead.

lixie: So? No ideas in that pretty head? you: i got one thing in mind lixie: And what might that be? you: having you here you: in my arms you: to kiss up and call pretty :>

It was a thing that you usually did since you loved how he always reacted so pricelessly. He didn’t disappoint with his response, the notifications popping up not even half a minute after your last message.

lixie: HNDNSABNNDJS lixie: Don’t tease me unprompted!! lixie: ;__;

You’re so grateful that he’s always up to play with you.

You thought deeply — too deeply for a situation like this — and scanned the store shelves and storage room for ideas.

You wondered what he would be up to right now.

Felix was stunned.

Done-up in the most expensive face and hairstyle he’s rocked to date, adorned with an unbuttoned suit jacket that one could only dream to wear, he was supposed to look like the stunner. His pecs were only barely hidden and the midsection of his upper body was almost entirely exposed.

Instead, he was the speechless one. He wasn’t shocked by the cold air seeping through his revealing outfit, but his hair raised at your messages.

Your teasing usually should not affect him this much, but today, it was something different. The whole day, all he could think about was you. His mind went to your first meeting. Earlier, he got deja vu as one of the stylists applied lipstick on him. It felt familiar, the feeling of a senior stylist’s hand resting on his face as a brush glided along the perimeter of his mouth. All it lacked was the stunning view of your face in particular. It reminded him of the first time you ever laid eyes on him, and it was to check on his eyeshadow. You stared at each other for too long, exchanged numbers after the shoot, and the rest was history.

He was pissed, to say the least, that you weren’t the assigned stylist for the shoot this time. Nothing could ever compare to the focused look you gave him as you fixed the corners of his mouth with the smooth swipe of your pinky finger.

He craved that touch again.

“Yo,” a dragged-out sigh whisked through the air. “You’ll catch a fly in your mouth if you keep that jaw open.”

Felix looked up from his phone to find Hyunjin, his best friend and one of the junior photographers on set, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He had his bleached blond hair half-up, tied messily to complete his so-called “intern look.” Most of the senior directors and photographers on set confused him for a model.

“Am I interrupting some kinda internal monologue sesh?” Hyunjin smiled, leaning behind Felix’s chair, raising a brow at him through the reflection.

“No, I just—”

“He’s thinking about Y/N again.” Jeongin, their other best friend, popped from behind the vanity, carrying Hyunjin’s abandoned camera.

The two were interns at the studio. Both were very bored art students looking for a job to pass the time by. Jeongin was there to work as a personal assistant and was mistaken for a stylist considering his fashion sense. His behavior around set proved otherwise, though, since he spent the entire day prodding at everyone’s business.

Felix was no exception as a victim.

“Imagine flirting online,” Hyunjin chuckled while reaching for the camera. Jeongin handed it out to him, only to swing his arm back, teasing the older.

Jeongin dismissed the frown on Hyunjin’s face and fiddled with the camera. “Yeah, cut your significant other some slack, they must be busy at the store or something,” he added.

“Nah, they aren’t.”

Hyunjin snagged the camera back. “Editing a Youtube video?”

“That’s exactly why they messaged me. They asked for ideas for a new video.” Felix sat back and redirected his eyes back to the conversation on his phone. The other two slowly turned their heads to each other.

“Wow! Did you hear that, Innie? They messaged him!” Hyunjin yelped.

“Lix didn’t message first? Unheard of!” Jeongin gasped.

“Cut it out, overdramatic cunts.” The accent made the last word roll off Felix’s tongue in a heavy and aggressive accent. “I want to help them this once. Shoo. Leave me be.”

“Oh, why are you getting all worked up, man?” The younger placed his hands on Felix’s shoulders and wiggled them.

Actually — why was he getting all worked up? Everything seemed off: he wasn’t the type to get annoyed easily like that.

He would have defended himself, but he thought it over. Not only had he been unusually sentimental while getting ready, but even as the day started, he was already rolling off to a rough start. He barely got out of bed, reaching out to you from the side and asking for longer morning cuddles specifically from you. He had been so clingy all day that the silence and afternoon heat killed him from looking forward to anything else but you.

A discussion brewed between the menaces as Felix thought about it. “Innie, you know, he couldn’t even hit the poses right. The director felt bad because our bro didn’t seem into it.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed upon hearing that. “No way, Hyune,” the other replied.

Oh god, Felix thought.

He swatted embarrassing thoughts away from his head to not get teased any further by his own friends. His thoughts — and something else — were hindering him from doing anything physically. The poor boy couldn’t even shift in his seat from embarrassment. It’s not that he didn’t want to physically fidget, he just couldn’t. His entire body froze, but he also just could not move by any means. It would be uncomfortable for him, and it wasn’t just because the clothes restricted him.

Something underneath his clothes would shift too and pierce his body with shockwaves. Before that could, though, his phone vibrated before he did.

you: babe! you: had a breakthrough so big i said eureka out loud in the store [you sent a photo]

Felix immediately opened the notifications and observed the sent messages. He opened the photo even before it loaded. When it did, he nearly melted in his seat.

You supposedly sent him a picture of a product that you found. By the looks of it, you probably thought of doing a product review of it, but that wasn’t the first impression he got from the picture. The first thing he saw was your face, winking with a toothy grin, your beautiful hand holding the product up next to your cheek.

God, you were all sorts of stunning to him.

lixie: OMHJYGOD YOUre so pretty you: dont look at me, silly! you: look at this lipstick. its so funny

For a moment, he didn’t listen. His eyes were still fixated on everything from your expression, to your features, to the nails that you just got done holding up the product. As if he had gone stupid, he had to blink and shake his head before formulating a reply that made sense.

lixie: LMFAOOOO THE NAME you: its not the name baby lixie: WHAT SHADE COLOR IS THAT LMAOOO you: the shade looks fine, look at the label! lixie: What’s it say you: the label claims its make-out proof lixie: ??!!! LOL

Of course, he didn’t make any sort of sense whatsoever. His two friends watched him frantically type away, barely being able to process anything from the mere sight of you.

“Bro’s deluded,” Jeongin whispered.

“Bro’s fucking horny,” Hyunjin commented, squinting at his friend.

you: you sound so funny baby you: anyway i was thinking i should review it you: but can you join me? i wanna try something

It felt like something broke inside of him. A shot of excitement ran through his system, hitting down until his core — oh shit that hurt.

He tried to twist his lower half again, fidgeting in his seat, but it grew harder for him to do so. With tears in his eyes, he jolted up, attempting to focus on the conversation.

lixie: Sure, what do you want me to do? lixie: Won’t you just do an application and wear test thing? you: mmm i guess u can say that you: but im making it a lil different lixie: How so?

The intrigue bit his tongue and Felix attempted to swallow it. The staff around him were wrapping up the shoot, pushing equipment back in their places, and some started to leave as soon as the director announced the last “cut.” He, however, was glued to the vanity chair, shaking in anticipation.

you: im gonna put it on you baby <3

Felix’s eyes widened.

It didn’t matter how many times you placed makeup on him, nor did it matter how many times he joined you in your antics. There were too many things going on in his head that toyed with his thought process and everything that came with it. He didn’t exactly know why, but a knot formed in his stomach. He grew nervous and just knew that you were up to something sinister.

lixie: But how are we gonna do the wear test? I already got my face done and half the day has passed, I’m even done w my part of the shoot you: you dont get it ??? lixie: I don’t get it!! you: ill put it on you when you get here. and were not just testing how long it wears regularly, were testing what the label says you: ill be there in 10mins love you baby

He sat back, looked up from his phone, and his gaze zeroed in on his reflection, attempting to focus on the thought. How would you conduct a different kind of wear test? In terms of makeup, a wear test would simply be to spend a full day with the product on and to see if it still holds its place at the end of it. It had already been well past afternoon by that time and it wasn’t like there were many other things to do that could budge the lipstick aside from dinner. He always trusted your genius, but he knew that there was more to this.

Felix blinked, once, twice, and then stared.

Were you…going to test if it was really make-out proof?

The world around him seemed to dim — it did, since the studio lights were turning off and the senior stylists urged Jeongin to wake the model up from his short-circuiting brain to change out of the clothes.

That is if Felix could still respond before the horniness consumed him.

lixie: Wait lixie: Don’t tell me lixie: DON’T TELL ME lixie: You’ll test it by putting it on me lixie: AND THEN MAKE OUT WITH ME?????? [Read 2:50 PM] lixie: Y/N!!! Answer me!!! [Delivered, unread 2:51 PM]

The cogs in his head accelerated before banging to a full stop, clinks and clanks ringing through his ears at his very slow realization.

“Congrats, smartypants, you figured it out.” Hyunjin scoffed from behind him.

“Dude—wait, hey! Have you been watching me the whole time?!”

“You should be more secretive,” Jeongin giggled. “Get those privacy screen protectors or something. Now we know what poor Y/N has to deal with every day.”

“And stop getting your thoughts tangled in horny next time you text,” Hyunjin elbowed the poor model boy, fiddling with his camera as if nothing happened. “Don’t worry. Your secrets and online PDA are safe with us.”

Felix’s face was washed without color. His jaw hung open both at his friends’ antics and your devilish plans.

“I’m looking forward to that review,” Jeongin added before walking away, teasingly pushing Felix’s shoulder on the way out. “Not that I’ll use it or anything.”

The two friends left the set side-eyeing and giggling at Felix.

—

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to the studio to pick your boyfriend up.

“Hi, darling.” Felix’s greeting and nervous smile lit up the quiet air and darkness of your car. He got in the passenger seat and immediately leaned in to kiss your cheek.

He was trembling.

You had to laugh. “Hey, babe. What’s got you shaken up?”

“Long day.”

“That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Long because of you,” he said, scrunching his nose. “Kept teasing me.”

“Aw, don’t sulk, silly.” You cooed at him, “Save the pout for later, baby. We’re going home.”

Maybe it was the combination of inhaling your expensive signature scent and hearing the sound of your voice again that made him tingle all over. Maybe it had to do with the curling corners of your mouth that gave Felix all the information he needed in the world. Maybe it was the fact that you held the back of his seat as the car reversed, and the action looked undeniably sexy.

Felix lifted a leg to cross over the other, but it only ever made him look more uncomfortable throughout the entire car ride home. Though concerned, you didn’t point it out, and instead continued to drive.

His chest was heaving and he internally scolded himself for acting like a bitch in heat.

The both of you arrived home sooner than expected.

The tunes that you played earlier in the car ride home stuck in Felix’s head. He wondered if the song choice of a sultry voice singing about “wants and needs” was deliberate. It was your playlist, and if you intended to include subliminal messaging, then it worked like a charm on him.

He had been worked out to the point he couldn’t face you. The moment he laid eyes on you again in your apartment’s living room, he shied away almost immediately.

You caught his averting gaze, though, and disallowed him from living it down. “Is there something on my face, baby?”

Baby. He could spend a lifetime just listening to you calling him that name. The way it sounded so natural coming from you made him melt.

He also could not stop staring at your lips. You always wore a certain gloss no matter the occasion. Even if it was your signature, Felix couldn’t help but stare, and it didn’t make his situation any better. In fact, it got worse, and it felt like the straining in his pants could explode.

“Mm, ‘s nothing, Y/N.”

“You sure?” You prodded. “Your friends kept waving at me and they looked back at you earlier.”

“Ah, please don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “They were being cheeky cunts.”

“That’s a funny way to put it.”

“Anyway, how are we gonna do th-the…uh, the thing…?” Felix stammered, playing with his fingers instead of looking you in the eye.

“Oh, glad you mentioned it!” You hurriedly grabbed the three tiny boxes in your bag. “I got a bit excited over it. Look at this!”

There was nothing too remarkable about the boxes. They looked like basic products, but the huge bolded font on the product labels caught his eye. “It’s more of a stain or something. The label says it can survive five consecutive make-out sessions before a singular budge.”

“It’s…interesting, yeah.” Felix blinked. You chuckled, nodding at his reasonable reaction. “So…y-you’ll put that on me.”

“Yep.”

“And then we kiss.”

“Make-out,” you corrected. Your voice was clear and slightly stern, but the smile that formed on your face sent him in shivers.

The familiarity in your features contrasted with whatever stunts you were going to pull on him sent his head into a haze.

“Anything wrong with it?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Lix, baby, just be clear with me.” You inched closer to him, bringing your hands to his plump freckle-spotted cheeks. “You don’t mind that I’ll record this and post it?”

“Of course, I don’t mind. I just…” Felix sighed.

“…Just curious, what are you planning to show in the video?”

“I’m gonna show the application, I’ll start by putting it on you.”

The heat rushed to Felix’s face as numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he visualized everything in his mind.

“We’re gonna kiss for a brief moment in the video, probably make out and do…whatever,” you winked shyly. “It’s only gonna be brief. Gotta keep it within community guidelines.”

One of your hands made its way down to his hip. You pulled him closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat from gulping back an otherwise embarrassing sound.

You had to wonder if he was hiding anything causing him discomfort there.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Felix bit his lip. “A hundred percent sure.”

“If you don’t want—”

“I want…it,” he whispered under his breath. “I want you.”

He flashed a weak smile. He was incredibly excited, but he was losing composure and he didn’t exactly know why.

He was about to melt in your hands but you held him up and adjusted your set-up for the video with an equally beautiful smile.

—

Three, two, one, action.

The camera rolled and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through you. Impressively, you thought you would have lost your spark at content creation, but posing in front of the ring light felt refreshing.

“It’s been a long time coming y’all,” you waved, “but I’m back! And guess who I’m with!”

Felix stared at the camera for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you for a split second. It was his cue to wave as well.

“Ah, hi, everyone!”

“Still handsome and meek as always,” you teased. “He still has a bit of makeup on since he came from a shoot.”

Your hand ran down the side of his neck. You felt the goosebumps rise from his skin.

“Anyway, today I’ll be starting a series of videos covering weird products and their weird claims. We’re starting strong with this funky new liquid lipstick from…B.Me Cosmetics.”

Taking the tube out of its package, you examined it and showed it to the phone camera. You swatched a shade on the back of your hand. Differing from a bullet lip, it had a liquid formula that boasted a unique, pseudo-gloss satin finish.

“It claims to be smudge-proof, make-out-proof, everything-proof. Can last five rounds of kissin’ and smoochin’ I assume.” You said many things that Felix didn’t even dare to process.

Felix simply watched your hands delicately hold the product. His gaze was fixated on your nails, fingers, and everything about you that wasn’t the lipstick.

“But oh no no, I’m not testing it on myself. Well, kinda, but Lixie over here is gonna be my test subject.” You swung an arm over Felix, dragging him down to the height of the phone, showing everyone his nervous yet precious face. He eyed up at you with what seemed to be hearts in his pupils.

“Let’s first see how this goes on, hmm?”

You walked a bit away to grab two chairs: one was velvety and comfortable, while the other was taller and had regular cushions. The first was the same chair your clients usually sat on, and the second was your working chair. You urged him to sit down, patting the seat as a signal.

The moment he sat down, Felix started trembling. His knees looked like they were about to give in and his thighs took a moment to settle onto the velvet.

“Everything alright?” You whispered.

He wordlessly nodded back at you. Unknown to you, though, he bit back a noise. He didn’t mind the sharp pulsing pain when he finally got the courage to look up fully, of course with the guidance of your thumb and index finger propping up his chin.

It felt like handling a little kitten in your hands.

“Which shade, which shade…” You took the other bottles out of the bold box packaging and waved them out in front of Felix’s lips. It either would have been a rosy nude color, a deep red, or a bright cherry pinkish-red.

You tapped the tube of the last color against your boyfriend’s bottom lip, watching his cheeks pout slightly at the action. You quietly settled on the cherry color, to Felix’s apparent delight.

“Would you look at that?” You cupped his face with one hand, holding the lipstick on your free one. You faced him towards the camera, relishing in the sight of his cheeks puffing up in your palm. “Call me biased or whatever, but his lips are some of the prettiest I’d ever seen.”

Before he could indulge in the praise though, you urged him to open his mouth. He didn’t prepare for any of this and not your next course of action.

You slotted the bottle in between Felix’s teeth and kept it in place even after unscrewing the applicator off. He bit slightly and carefully to keep the bottle in place without damaging it. If he were a nervous wreck then, he became overly anxious now. You, however, in full focus, took the applicator of the liquid lipstick and slid it along his top lip. The cold sensation of the new foreign product on his mouth made him squirm slightly, though you held him firmly in place with your hand.

“So fitting that his lips are shaped like a heart. He’s so kissable.” You smooched the air while cleaning up the perimeter of his lips, teasing him.

Wished I kissed you right now, huh? Felix could hear that in your voice and he let it echo in his pretty little head. Alas, he couldn’t retaliate nor speak back at all. He couldn’t even dip his head in embarrassment. Your eyes were trained on the brush you flicked, almost dismissive of your own flirting and it mismatched the smirk that adorned your mouth after teasing.

It was the exact kind of look he’s seen many times before. The exact look he fell in love with when you first met.

It’s the look he would get off to almost every night.

You finished off applying the lipstick and it was impressively smooth. You took the bottle from his teeth and sighed. The color made his mouth look irresistibly edible. It would take you three marathons and a trip to the moon to admit that you were starting to feel just as affected as Felix by the sight of his pouty mouth.

“Rub those pretty lips for me, baby.”

Only you could say those words to him the way that you do. Felix felt multiple urges rummaging through his system at once. He could almost cry from wanting to say something, to call out your name, to moan it, to whine and whimper, and melt in your arms as if nobody were watching.

The eyes of the world were on him, though, and all he could do was comply. He rubbed his lips together and pouted them out with a smack.

“Good job, baby.” You rubbed his chin with your thumb. He felt fire surging within his heart.

He knew that you knew what you were doing. It was only you, after all, who knew how to push his buttons in the right places. Unlike Hyunjin nor Jeongin, it took you no effort and no risks to leave him a mentally jumbled mess; not agitated, but certainly needy.

You were still sticking to a mental script, though. “How does it feel? Chalky? Rough? Sticky…?”

“I-It’s smooth. Feels thin.” He felt his tongue almost twist in his mouth from trying to speak when he was physically weakening over you.

“Seems like a good formula,” you giggled.

He watched as you turned your back on him, explaining bits of beauty jargon that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His vision seemed to blur as a need to satisfy the growing discomfort in his pants overwhelmed him. It all snapped away for a second when you switched the angle of your phone and pulled him up by his arms, leading him in front of the couch.

All of a sudden, you rubbed a circle around the base of his wrist. You looked up at him with eyes that demanded something from him. It was dark yet inviting as if he had just eyed down a wolf threatening to eat him whole.

The gesture was your signal that you wanted to fuck him then and there.

Felix finally didn’t have to keep to himself.

“Time to test how good it wears,” you smirked at him.

Felix’s eyes were focused on yours. He didn’t move an inch as your fingers crawled from his jaw to his cheek. You glanced at your phone, propped up on the countertop, to check if it was recording. When you looked back, your eyes met Felix’s red lips.

You were so glad that you picked that shade. The makeup line released a ton of colors and your mind folded into itself when you realized how many there were. It was almost overwhelming to choose a shade for your boyfriend: you wanted to see him with a pinky nude on his lips, but you also thought the dark berry shade looked pretty.

As a trained makeup artist, you had a knack for figuring out which hues elevated which skin tones. Of all people, you knew Felix’s skin would match the slightly muted, pinkish cherry satin stain.

You should know this. You’ve seen his skin flush many times before, that would be more than enough to be familiar with the hues of his delicious skin.

You were the reason why he would constantly blush, after all. His skin would burn under your slightest touch, but it would flare up until his freckles darkened each time you held him down on your hips and called him pretty. His cheeks would turn as red as the tip of his cock every time you squeezed it lightly.

Before you could think of any more, you tapped your boyfriend’s cheek. His face burned into a shade not far from the color of his lipstick.

“Are you sure you want to record this with me?” You asked, eyes scanning his face for second thoughts.

Felix almost forgot that you needed a clip of the both of you briefly kissing. He nodded after a second, confusion snapping into realization as you smiled at him. He seemed to be lost in thought, too: maybe he was nervous, maybe he was thinking of the same things you thought about. Either way, he simply answered with a smirk and the faintest giggle.

“Yeah. I’m game.”

You were on a mission to prove that this lip product could not budge after an intense make-out session. Now, you — and maybe Felix — wanted to see if it could survive intense sex, too.

All it took were two inches forward: you grabbed his hands dangling in front of you and closed in. Your noses touched each other, the skin bumping softly before your lips slotted against his in the smoothest kiss possible. To his surprise, you started gently. He expected you to crash against his mouth. He expected you to rummage through the product sitting on his mouth right away, to test its strength as a long-lasting piece of makeup, but you didn’t.

Maybe he wanted you to be rough. He wanted it.

You could tell by the whimper he choked up behind the kiss. That, and his hands roamed around your arms and sides, pulling you closer.

“Getting a little excited now, are we?” You purred, pulling your face away from his. He hesitated to break the kiss, inching his lips closer to yours even as you talked.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Got a little carried away.”

You wondered what got him to be so clingy and affectionate. You’re well aware of him being loving and tender, but it’s another thing to have him smitten while you’re doing nothing special.

Little did you know that to him, everything involving you is special. Even the texts you sent earlier and the ones you sent before. He couldn’t stop thinking about them; who wouldn’t, especially when you were being such a tease?

He finally pulled his head back. “Smooth,” he whispered.

You thought to tease him. “The lipstick?”

“No,” Felix chuckled, “I meant you.”

Your hands traveled from up to his toned arms until one of them met the nape of his neck — his sensitive spot. You often called him a little kitten for enjoying being petted on that spot a little too much.

“So, did it rub off yet?” Your boyfriend managed to squeak, still affected by your antics.

His face was impossibly close to yours and you could feel the heat in his cheeks growing the more that he smiled at you. You stepped back to observe his face: apart from the blush on his cheeks, the lipstick was seemingly left unscathed. By the look on his face, he observed your lips, and there were no signs of product transferring.

He also just wanted to kiss it again.

You raised an eyebrow at the camera and shrugged. “I guess it survived round one.”

“That was round one?” Felix mirrored the look you gave your phone. “I thought we call that first base.”

Your head whipped back to him. He simply smirked back, feigning an angel’s smile.

You’ve dated him for a long while, and while he had always been silly, he had never been this way in front of the camera. You wondered if the shoot he did — or the staff he was with — earlier had anything to do with a sudden ego boost.

“Now you’re bold, baby.”

The nickname caused Felix’s smirking eyes into wide ones, the excitement writing itself everywhere on his face.

“Just wanna do more with you,” he teased back. “Do more rounds, test how much removes.”

He puckered his lips and pouted. It was a juicy invitation that you couldn’t turn down. Instead, you took it with a kiss — a deep kiss, one that made you inhale and caught him off guard.

It was still gentle and velvety. It felt like you both tasted clouds and nothing was in between. The hand on the nape of his neck ran up to his hair and back down almost instinctively, making Felix shake. Unable to focus on both the sensation of a passionate kiss, an overwhelming urge to breathe and process the suddenness, and the general feeling of being petted, his hands swung to your chest and squeezed.

“Ah! Felix!” You whispered loudly against his mouth, almost moaning at the sensation.

“Sorry! Force of habit,” he said.

“Gotta keep it PG, baby, I’m posting this.” He nodded assuringly at your words but his hands were crucially still on your chest, threatening to squeeze again.

After realizing this, he immediately attempted to pull his hands back, an apology dripping on the tip of his tongue. Instead, you surprisingly threw your hands on his wrists, caging his hands in place.

If that didn’t surprise him enough, you leaned in close to his face and kissed him once more. It was fiery this time; he felt your tongue darting at him while your teeth nipped slightly at his bottom lip before you pulled away. He gasped louder than he should have.

You giggled at his shock and nuzzled your face on his neck. “Sorry. Reflex.”

“But mommy—” Felix froze, realizing what he had just said. He didn’t mean to say that.

All the cockiness he displayed earlier fizzled out into thin air. You could feel the heartbeat in his neck thumping against your lips. From his eyes fluttered shut to wide open ones, you could see the embarrassment wash over him.

Sure, you two were doing something intimate, kissing and groping in front of the camera. He knew and trusted you enough to edit it out, but the idea that footage would have existed of him calling you that nickname…scared him. The camera watched him, the microphone picked up his low voice, and on the off-chance that this moment makes the cut, thousands of people would have seen it.

He’d gotten used to the idea that millions of people could pass by his face and body, but it’s different when he’s exposing a bit of himself that he only reserved for you — his “mommy.”

“Y/N… Shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t—”

“Oh baby, it’s okay.” You gave a reassuring look and a warm smile, shifting your position to hide his face away from the phone camera.

The pet name was his suggestion. The idea that you could hold this title as his dominant partner was something he never thought of telling you at first, but the moment he mentioned it, you indulged immediately. It was something so dear, so sweet, and soft, definitely making you less of an ominous presence to him in bed and more like a warm home he can return to. You loved it even if he didn’t expect you to.

Even while he’s embarrassed and fully vulnerable, he felt so safe, entrusted to the only one in his life that could take the title without judgment.

“Call me that as much as you want. I won’t show it,” you whispered. Felix nodded but you didn’t miss the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

“Mommy…” He inevitably gave up and dipped his head in the crook of your neck. You petted the back of his head again and kissed the side of his head, calming him with hushes and soft hums.

Before he could melt at your warm embrace, you took a few steps back. Felix whined and hoped to hug you for longer, only to watch you press the button on your phone to stop the recording. You shut the phone off, looked back at him, and smiled with your eyes.

He always valued your respect for his boundaries and the fact that you always made his comfort your top priority.

“We’re not done,” you inched closer, “the lipstick’s still on there.”

Because if you two were going to fuck comfortably, you two were still going to fuck.

Taking his arms and pulling them towards you, you prompted him to wrap himself around you as your lips crashed against his. You held him by his waist — it was remarkably small, toned, and muscled but definitely made for your hands to take it.

With force, you hugged his waist and carried him slightly, pushing you both on the couch. You sat on it while he was essentially hovering over your figure, his hips just above your lap.

“Mommy—g-god,” Felix gasped, muffled by another nudge of your mouth.

As if your brain switched off, your hands started going on their own. One was trained on his hip and the other snaked up his side and cupped his face, making him tremble at the sudden yet soft movements.

You were focused on the kiss but you just knew he looked gorgeous.

Of all the clients you put makeup on, your boyfriend always turned out the prettiest. Maybe it’s because his eyes seemed to shine with certain shadows on them. Maybe it’s the way his freckles peek through the base products. In this case, maybe it was the plumpness of his lips that you loved, covered in a flattering shade of red. Maybe that’s what was doing it for you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” you said, pausing the kiss.

Felix pouted. The pigment on his lips accentuated the curves of his mouth. “Not as cute as mommy.”

“Hm, thank you. But you’re my cute baby.”

Sometimes, you wonder how you got this to be so vulnerable, so whipped for you. It didn’t take him that long to warm up to you with this side of him, a side he so dearly hid from the rest of the world. It’s like this doll was made for you.

“Mommy,” Felix dragged out a whimper as he called you by the title. “Making me needy.”

“Don’t get impatient baby boy,” you whispered, a kiss on his temple following your sweet words.

While rolling your hips onto his, you thought about it what you said. You thought back to the last night he fell into this extremely submissive role. He’d always been the one under you and you’ve always been the one in control, but during that one night — similar to this one — he shyly asked you to call him a certain pet name. You loved it, probably more than he did, and you figured he might want to hear you say it again.

“Or are you my baby girl for tonight?”

“Mommy!” Felix scolded. If his cheeks were already flushed, his entire face heated up with a warmth that you simply indulged in. His ears and the corners of his eyes lit up with a blush tone that complimented and accentuated the cherry color that lined his shy smile.

He enjoyed the pet name too much, and he seemed to be threatened with memories of the same night the moment you said it.

“What? Don’t want to be my baby girl? It’s okay if you—”

“I’m mommy’s girl! Yeah, I’m their baby girl!”

Almost all traces of bass in Felix’s voice left the moment he squealed his response to you.

His eyebrows were slanting upwards like a needy puppy, his eyes sparkled as beads of tears sat on his eyelashes, and he wiggled his hips onto yours with a neediness you’ve seen many times before. He briefly whimpered again in a high pitch.

Being called that for the first time was as special to him as it was to you. It still landed him punches to the gut every time you said it. You would wonder why he loved it even if he was incredibly comfortable in his masculinity.

Maybe it made sense like that, considering he was wearing makeup while sitting on your lap.

You kissed him again and praised him until he gave into the burning sensations he felt from your overwhelmingly smooth graces around his body. With fast swipes, you pulled his plain shirt over his head, only to clothe him again with nothing but the warm embrace of your arms.

He moaned, writhed, and whined, adjusting his position on your lap until his legs were slotted against one of your thighs. Once he found his balance, he rutted against your leg, letting out a sound that he couldn’t resist.

“Didn’t even undress you yet, I still have pants on, and you’re already riding me?” You smiled widely at him. Felix huffed, unable to think, inhaling so that he wouldn’t drool on your shirt.

Or your chest, now that you abandoned your top in a flash, leaving it even harder for him to contain himself.

You took his lips into yours again, this time licking and biting his sweet mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. It was messy and sloppy, just the way he needed it. You wondered if he had been craving this for so long and just couldn’t tell you.

Nevertheless, the next step was to take the bottoms off of your lower half and his own, but he paused your hands from reaching onto his crotch.

“W-Want mommy’s off first,” he sighed. It sounded more like a question now that his voice was so high and his tone was so soft. He was far from the boy whose mouth went foul over his own best friends at work.

His head was far gone, you figured.

Felix helped you pull your pants down, careful not to disrupt the current position that you were both in, only slightly lifting yourself off the couch. He sighed once he saw you, bare and beautiful, rid of anything that kept him from being horny the entire day.

He wanted you so bad.

“Baby girl, tell me,” it was your turn to pause his hands from reaching you.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No…not really a-a bother…” He pursed his lips.

He figured to rip the bandaid off and just show you the source of his discomfort—or, as it seems, the source of his pleasure.

“Baby girl, you…”

He revealed a pastel pink lacy fabric covering his private area. He was wearing panties.

“I…I got them from a PR package…from th-that one underwear company…” Felix justified, stuttering from both extreme embarrassment and arousal.

“It was supposed to be yours b-but I…liked it so much…a-and I wanted to…”

You couldn’t help but notice the drool threatening to fall from his tongue, glossing his lips. Distracted, you didn’t kiss him. You licked his mouth and bit his bottom lip again. The blood under his skin rushed to color his lips, emphasizing the pink-colored stain.

As you bit his lip, your fingers found the band of his panties, toying with the pink lace before slipping under it. The flesh — rather, his cock — was hard and pulsing. Felix moaned. His chest heaved from being unable to process everything at once.

“Baby girl’s clit is so hard for me already.” You pecked his cheek and let him whine. “You’ve been needy since earlier?”

“Y-Yeah, but, ‘m…not finished.” He mumbled under his breath. “Got more…to show you.”

He pulled his panties fully down, allowing his cock to bounce up. You couldn’t help but notice something at the base, but your suspicions were confirmed when he led one of your hands to touch his ass.

“You wore a butt plug the whole day?”

Felix’s face flushed into a shade similar, if not deeper than the cherry red he wore on his lips. At your words, he felt like crumpling into himself.

“It’s just for you. Thought y-you’d like it.”

All you could do in response was kiss him deeply and thrust your thigh up, hitting the plug deeper into his ass.

He moaned deliciously into the kiss and almost cried at the contact. It fucked with him — literally — the entire day and you made it all the better. Only that he had so little time to adjust before you gave him a dark look again.

“Mommy, what are you—”

He was shut up by you licking his mouth and your fingers filling up his hole.

“Your cunt’s so fucking wet, baby girl.” Your words left your system through gritted teeth, filtering your animalistic desire to ruin him even more than ever. “This pussy is mine and only mine.”

You bit his lip once more, sucking on the plump flesh before abandoning it. “Bet your toys can’t satisfy you as I do.”

“They d-don’t, mommy!” Felix was on the verge of tears, choking back sobs as your teeth found his jaw, peppering it with love bites lining his natural contour.

You started pumping your fingers up and down his ass, hitting his prostate with your fingertips over and over. “Can only take me inside your cunt.”

“Ah, god—fuck, mommy!” The delirious sounds escaping him as he scrambled to hold onto your body kept you going.

As if he noticed, he started grinding into the air next to your entrance. You took this as his usual sign that he wanted to please you too. Felix valued mutual pleasure and craved it as much as he craved the sloppy crashing of mouths on a couch.

“Take me like a good girl.” Your voice softened as you cooed. “Can you do it? Ride mommy’s fingers while fucking into me?”

He could only nod frantically, allowing the drool in his mouth to drop onto his cock.

The lipstick probably looked so messy by now.

You held his cock, lengthy and hard, and squeezed it in your free hand. “This is mommy’s to play with.”

Shoving it into your entrance, you curled your fingers deep onto Felix’s prostate, eliciting loud moans from either of you. Felix could scream from the sudden warmth enveloping his cock.

“Rub your clit against me,” you demanded, urging him to thrust his cock immediately. He complied only to start whining and crying out from the stimulation.

You leaned your head to the side and exposed your neck. With a subtle nod of your head, you invited him to bite your neck before his next thrust. Lightning bolts entered you when his teeth sunk into your skin for some semblance of comfort.

In turn, you kissed and sucked a spot on Felix’s shoulder. The biting sensation made him squirm away from you, but his noises only amplified when you latched onto a more sensitive spot above his freckled collarbone. It didn’t help that your fingers were practically exiting and entering his hole completely, filling and emptying him at a speed he almost couldn’t take.

The stimulation from all ends of his body caught up to him, release rumbling from his core up to his cock. He begged and pleaded and called your name multiple times as you did too. Felix readied for release but shocked himself when it came suddenly, almost without warning.

He started gushing just outside your entrance, the relief surging through his hips in waves: it had never happened to him before, but the slight amusement on his fucked-out face sent you over the edge too.

You came at the same time, your wetness coating the sides of your thighs and the cushions of the couch, the pool of both your juices mixing right under you.

It had to take you both several minutes to an hour of downtime before you both got up to clean. During that time, Felix held you close, trapping you in a warm cuddle.

“Y/N, I love you,” he whispered, his deep voice returning, calming you from your high.

You pressed one more kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Felix.”

Aftercare had to be a non-negotiable after the scene you guys painted all over the living room.

You made sure to offer Felix the softest bubble bath, massaging and soothing every inch of his skin, scrubbing away at the residue of the new lipstick.

You both found out, just before the bath, that it barely survived at all. It still stained his lips a shade of red, and the stains of love bites that he left on you stuck for a long while, but the actual product budged possibly within the third round of kisses. It barely held on when you started biting him.

The bedroom was full of giggles and the shuffling of your bodies cuddling close to calm yourselves down. Felix shared how he couldn’t believe his horniness that day, and you teased that he was being a hormonal girl.

He whined at that, kissed you good night, and fell asleep while huddled close to your chest. You calmly played with your phone, quickly editing the footage and clipping out the moment that he slipped into submission.

That was for your eyes only.

You posted the video and muted the notifications, kissed his forehead good night, and fell asleep.

—

“Baby, baby girl…” Your voice, although hoarse and deep from the blissful sleep, woke your boyfriend up. The clock on your bedside table flashed 9:00 AM in bright red, but the light from your phone shone brighter. “Look at this!”

“Holy…Y/N, oh my god!” Every trace of sleepiness left Felix as he jumped out of bed. “The video blew up?!”

You sat up next to him, chuckling in disbelief. “Let’s see what people are saying.”

“Why does the suggested search bar have…”

Men marked up. Men with hickeys. Men whining. It was clear that the video affected your audience in more ways than one.

“Silly,” you giggled, sinking into your boyfriend’s embrace. “Wonder how this thing got through community guidelines.”

Felix pointed at a comment. “Help. Someone’s asking about washing the stains off.”

The both of you cuddled closer. As the sunlight shone through your curtains and hit your figures, it highlighted Felix’s honey skin and the cherry stains that failed to wash off in the shower.

You turned your head to his and smirked. “Should we film an update video? What about a part 2?”

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @sstarryoong

+ @imrllytootiredforthis @imsolovelylovely @beefis @sorikkung @lix-ables figured to tag since yall showed interest!

special thanks to @meivida, my ride or die, the big brain that inspired me to write this in the first place! they also took time out of their day to proofread it ^_^

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!felix #sub!yongbok #dom!reader #stray kids smut #felix smut #yongbok smut #💬 z is writimg

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togrowoldinv · 9 months

Text

Concussion

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Tony hires you on at Stark Industries, you meet Natasha. She isn’t sure about you at first, but once she offers to teach you self defense things begin to change

Note: I came up with this idea while I was trying to sleep lol. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

The last few weeks since you moved into the Avenger’s compound have been the most interesting of your life.

You met several of the super powered humans, including Wanda and Steve, and Tony gave you a rundown of what your life would be like here.

He hired you as a consultant for Stark Industries, but as a fresh college graduate you didn’t have anywhere to live, so he offered for you to stay at the compound.

You were in the kitchen waiting for more instruction when Natasha, The Black Widow as you only informally knew her as then, came into the room.

“Who are you?” Natasha asked, her defenses up as she looked you over. You didn’t look like a threat but she couldn’t be sure.

“I’m y/n,” you told her. That didn’t clear anything up for her.

Natasha got closer to you and pushed you into the counter with your hands pinned behind your back.

“Who do you work for?” She asked, pressing you firmly. She could tell you were unarmed from the position.

“Tony hired me,” you squeaked through the pain of her holding you like that. “I’m a new consultant.”

Stark entered the kitchen about that time.

“Woah, Romanoff! Ease up on the new girl,” Tony said in his typical tone.

Natasha let go of you but kept close as Tony explained your role here. She didn’t love the idea of a non-Avenger staying at the compound. But she let it go for now.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you saw Natasha again. This time it was at a party that Stark was throwing. He called it a casual hangout but there must’ve been one hundred people there.

You settled at the bar and had a conversation with Wanda, who you found was also new to the team. She was nice.

But it didn’t take long for your conversation to be interrupted by Natasha.

“So, you’re still around?” The redhead asked you. She looked you over and her eyes did like what she saw. You’d never know it though since she was on spy mode.

“I’m still around,” you answered. “I haven’t seen you around though.”

“Mission,” is all she said. A certain quiet loomed over the conversation before Nat spoke again. “Do you have any intention of becoming an Avenger?”

The question caught you off guard. You were there for business purposes but the idea of running around to help save the world sounded kind of fun too. Still, you were realistic.

“I don’t think so. I’m a businesswoman,” you answered.

“That’s all? No combat training?”

“They don’t teach that in college,” you joked. But Natasha looked despondent.

“Look, y/n, you need some training if you’re going to live here,” she said.

“Why?”

Natasha sighed. “Because you live here with a lot of highly targeted individuals and intel. If someone broke in, you need to be able to defend yourself.”

She made a good point. You wondered why she even cared if you could defend yourself.

But that’s how you find yourself now two days later standing in the training room. Wanda is on one side of the floor and you’re on the other. Natasha is teaching Wanda hand to hand combat and you how to defend yourself.

“Alright, Wanda you’re going to go for y/n. Absolutely no magic. Fight the urge to use it, okay?” Natasha says.

“I’ll try my best,” Wanda replies.

“Are you ready, y/n?” Natasha asks, turning to you. You nod. “Remember what I taught you.”

The fight goes well at first. Wanda doesn’t come at you hard, and you’re able to dodge most of her blows. But eventually she gets more confidence, and you are taking hits from her.

“Block, y/n. Block,” Natasha reminds you.

You block a few punches well. And even land a couple on Wanda. She starts to get frustrated, but you don’t notice.

When you strike her ribcage, her reaction is to send you flying with her magic. You land on the floor with a hard thud.

“I’m so sorry!” You hear Wanda shouting as the ringing in your ears subsides. “I’m so sorry.”

She’s crying. Natasha assures her it was an honest mistake.

“Hey, come on, y/n,” you hear Nat’s voice next. She turns your body over to lay on your back.

The only thing you see is her perfect green eyes with a cape of red hair around them.

“Hi Nat,” you say with a loopy grin. That pretty much confirms you have a concussion.

“Hey y/n,” she replies. She mirrors your smile. “Wanda, she’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” You hear the girl say. You sit up the best you can and look to her.

“I’m perfect, Wanda,” you tell her.

Wanda frowns and looks down at her hands. She’s upset with herself.

“Hey,” you get her attention again. “You’re still learning. It’s okay.”

Your kind words to Wanda make Natasha’s heart melt in a way she didn’t know was possible. She helps you off the ground and it’s then she notices a slight cut on your forehead.

“Let’s go take care of that,” Natasha says, gesturing to your head. She turns back to Wanda one last time before she guides you out. “Wanda, I promise it’s okay. You’ll get better at controlling it. I believe in you.”

The girl nods but retreats her room quickly. You truly hold no anger towards her.

Natasha takes you to the nearest bathroom where she tells you to sit on the counter. You sit as she gets a rag damp.

When she presses it against your cut, you wince in pain.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. She doesn’t stop what she’s doing, but she does touch you more delicately now.

She cleans the wound and puts on some cream to protect from infection before she puts a bandage on.

“Thank you, Natasha,” you say.

“Oh, I thought I was Nat now?” She replies.

You chuckle, mostly because you don’t even remember calling her that just minutes ago.

“I think I have a concussion,” you wonder aloud.

“Yeah, I think so,” Natasha laughs out. “I’ll take you to the medbay. Come on.”

“Wait!” You shout.

“What?” Nat asks.

“You didn’t kiss it,” you say simply.

Natasha raises her brow in question. You point to your cut.

“You want me to kiss your head?” She asks.

“Please, that’s the only way it’ll heal,” you say. She almost laughs, but you seem dead serious.

“Alright,” Nat says.

She takes your face in her hands and kisses your forehead softly. It’s not even where the wound is exactly but somehow it’s perfect.

“I’m telling everyone the Black Widow is soft,” you say when she’s pulled away.

“You won’t even remember any of this tomorrow, y/n,” Nat says, but she secretly hopes you will.

She walks you out of the bathroom and to the medbay where they confirm you have a concussion.

For the next few weeks, Natasha takes care of you. No one, not even you, asked her to. But it just feels right.

The day you’re officially cleared, Natasha kisses you on the lips for the first time. It is everything and more.

When Wanda keeps apologizing to you about the fight, you just smile because you know it was the moment Natasha realized she liked you.

You wouldn’t go back in time and change a thing.

#Natasha Romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff #tony stark

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kooktrash · 1 year

Text

all you want | kim taehyung

summary: in the world of high society finding your future partner took a lot of preparation. kim taehyung is one of the most sought out bachelors and he’s been roped on a blind date with Y/n, a spoiled rich girl not used to being told no. what happens when the two clash?

➣ arranged dating/high society

➣ 13.1k words

➣ rich ceo!kth x rich student!reader [she/her pronouns {female anatomy}]

warnings: smut. very light dom/sub themes. jealousy. lack of communication. make out. heavy petting. oral sėx [f and m]. blowjøb. public oral[bathroom and elevator]. protection sėx. tae is basically a soft dom. reader is kinda a brat. rich kids. missionary. ass slapping lol. light dirty talk. roughish. both experienced. teasing.

song inspo: art deco — lana del rey, i wanna be yours — arctic monkeys,

reupload

He's always considered himself a sensible man, never one to make a fuss over trivial things. He doesn't let a lot of things get to him and he likes to be in control. The only thing that had been in his control today was showing up on time which was something the person he was supposed to meet for lunch today couldn’t do. He’s already been waiting for twenty minutes.

Taehyung was mere seconds away from walking out the door and calling his grandmother to tell her what happened. If she was going to force him to see women for marriage, could they at least be realistic? Not every heiress in their twenties has to be on his radar. His grandmother seems to think he need a list of girls to potentially marry all of which stood in the same economic class as they did.

Kim Taehyung is currently head of a million dollar land development company because of his grandparents. Once they retired they passed it down to him despite being only 26. He graduated early from both high school and college and due to being a nepotism baby, he didn't have to lift much of a finger to be where he's at. Now even though coming from a rich family definitely played into his upbringing and sculpted him into who he was, he never considered himself spoiled—or greedy?

He was fine with the fact that his parents sent him to live with his grandparents since he was young. It was like an assurance that he would be the one to get it all and he did. He was grateful for the life they've given him and all its privileges. That's why when his grandmother asks him to promise that she'll see him married before her day of passing he took it seriously. He asked for her help and boom, he was going on dates with fellow rich people in order to marry.

So no, he could not say he was spoiled. He could say he was grateful and appreciative. He'll do whatever to prove his thankfulness to his family. But you? Now you, the one currently sitting in front of him? Yeah, you’re definitely spoiled.

After making him wait a total of twenty three minutes only to saunter in here in a tight little dress chewing gum without saying a single word to him. You just sat down with your arms crossed over your chest giving him nothing, no apology or explanation for being so late. No introduction, nothing.

Now, his grandparents raised him to be a gentleman so that's what he was. He used benefit of the doubt and stuck it out, he'll give it twenty minutes. He's just not sure if you’ll be doing everything that he had planned and right now you don't have the strongest first impression. Even if he wanted to snap over your rude behavior he didn't.

Instead he finally picked up his menu and began looking over the appetizers. When the waitress came around finally seeing the person he'd been waiting for she rushed over with a polite smile, "Hi! How are you doing today? What can I get you to drink?"

"Water's fine," you told her forcing a smile on your face before turning to look at him, he watched it fall immediately. It made him snicker as he mirrored your stance and crossed his arms over his chest too which told you he can play the waiting game better to see who cracks first.

Your eyes raked down what you could see of him. He wore an all black suit with the shirt buttoned all the way to the top button making him look stiff. Not stiff, but it was something in the way he carried himself that made it almost intimidating. He was attractive, extremely attractive. He was slightly older than you but being a young school girl all you ever heard were rumors about the older Kim grandson heir. And now here you were on a date with him ruining your chances all because you've had a bad day.

When the waitress came back you were both surprisingly ready to order. He didn't mutter a thing to you as he let you give her your order first and then did his. When the waitress left again it went back to complete silence.

Fine. If he wasn't going to talk then you won't either. You waited in silence for about half an hour [longer than Taehyung had wanted to stay] and finally the food got here. He could already tell what kind of person you were and he knew he could handle you so he stayed. You were only a few tiny bites into your lunch when your patience had ran thin. With a roll of your eyes and your fork clanking soft against your plate you caught his attention.

"So are you just not going to say anything at all? Because if that's the case I'll leave," you told him, the silver diamond bracelet you wore glistening under the lights. He continued cutting into his steak ignoring you for a moment before answering, "What would you like me to say?"

That made you huff in annoyance. You shrugged, "I don't know, like say hello, ask me why I was late, just talk to me? All you're doing is sitting there not saying anything like a complete prick."

He smiled a little making the anger inside you rise. He set down his knife and fork leaning forward on the table with his hands folded together, "Oh, so you want me to pay attention to you? Why’s that?”

"What do you mean why?" Your brows furrowed looking at him with irritation written all over your face. With a final roll of your eyes you reached for your handbag, "Whatever. I didn't even want to do this, I don't have to be here."

You didn't make it a step away from the table when his deep voice cut into the thick air like a sharp blade, "Sit down."

"No, I'm leaving," you told him going to take a step. His hand reached out in time to grasp your wrist suddenly making you gasp, "Y/n, sit down."

For some strange reason you did. He picked up his fork and knife again, "Now, we're going to finish our lunch and try and enjoy it, alright? I've given you a chance to talk and now it's my turn. After I say what I have to say you're welcome to leave."

Now, usually you'd throw back some rude comment over how you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to but instead you listened. He let out a deep breath as he went back to eating, chewing thoroughly before swallowing and speaking again, "You arrive twenty minutes late which is fine. I can wait twenty minutes."

"Then when you get here you don't say a single word. No apology, no explanation, not even a hello," Taehyung said as he looked up just in time to catch the roll of your eyes, "This entire time you've sat there in a bad mood refusing to talk to me as well as chewing on your gum not even looking at me. The first thing you say when you finally do decide to talk is complain about my silence? The audacity Y/n, truly."

"Well you know my name and I know yours. I didn't think we needed a formal introduction," you muttered digging into your own plate again. He didn't say anything for a moment waiting to see if you'd finally own up to the bad start of this date that had been entirely your fault but you didn't. He smiled taking his glass and drinking from it, "I'll admit this behavior is expected from someone your age."

Your eyes narrowed, "What's that supposed to mean?" You were 21, only a few years younger than the 27 year old and he was acting like it was a generational gap between you two. Clearly your father chose your current date partner due to his maturity. Your father ran a successful architect company that worked closely with the Kim's line of work so naturally this date was set up but that didn’t mean you liked it.

"It means you are a spoiled brat," he clears his throat going back to eating, "Who's immature and selfish."

"You don't know anything about me," you argued ignoring the waitress as she asked if the food was up to par. He, however, paid his attention to her, "Everything is wonderful if you don't mind bringing us the bill?"

"Let's see..." he pondered for a moment putting his attention back on you, "You're a 21 year old university student living off your parent's money and yet you want to act like you're better than everyone when you haven't worked for a single thing you own? Then you have the nerve to get mad over someone not paying you any attention on a date when you clearly didn't care enough about it to at least show up on time?"

"Wow, are you always this much of an asshole?" You asked raising room your feet, "We're done here."

He didn't say anything letting you leave and that only made you even more mad. Whatever, you rather deal with your dad's fury for walking out on the date than spend another second listening to him think he knows everything about you [news flash though, he was pretty spot on].

You do have to admit that when your parents asked you about lunch and when you told them in all honesty that it was shit they got you in trouble. It's what had you calling his work phone a couple days later despite not wanting to.

"Mr. Kim you have a call from a Y/n L/n on line 1, would you like me to tell her you're not in?" His secretary asked him one Wednesday morning when you called. He could see the surprise evident on her face at the fact that a woman was currently calling him and she looked anything but pleased.

Taehyung isn't a womanizer by any means, to be honest none of his employees have ever heard of him being with a women. Only rumors that have circulated over who his partner might be. He's heard some of course. Some say he's dating a Romanian model, others say he's dating a Japanese socialite. In truth he hasn't been in a serious relationship in a long time and he devotes too much of his time on work to deal with hook ups.

"Go ahead and put her through," Taehyung said adjusting the tightness of his neck tie as she left to connect the call. It took him a second to ready himself to answer the phone, "Hello?"

"Taehyung, hi it's Y/n," you said through the phone. You were currently sunbathing on your balcony poolside wearing a small two piece bathing suit and Chanel sunglasses. Your parents asked you to play nice so that's what you'll do.

"Yes, I know," Taehyung leaned back in his desk chair holding the phone up to his ear as he turned to face the view of Seoul sky scrapers in front of his office. You expected a little more small talk but went on nevertheless, "So listen, I wanted to apologize for how things left off on Sunday. I was wondering if you wanted to try and meet again? Maybe talk things out."

Taehyung smiled hearing you apologize. It looks like the princess does know how to own up to their actions. Though he's pretty sure you're not apologizing out of the kindness of your heart and instead most likely because you were being made to.

Still, part of him was intrigued. The previous women he's gone out with due to his grandmother have been boring. It felt like he was listening to the same story over and over again. They agreed with every little thing he said to impress him and he didn't like that. He liked a challenge. He liked someone who can bring out different sides to him and really tests his limits.

He's not saying you are that someone just yet but for some reason... your awful first impression didn't actually leave a bad taste in his mouth. On the contrary, the fuss you made had him curious. Matched with your looks, he can easily put up with your attitude. You've managed to spark some curiosity in him to pursue you further instead of the other women he's dated.

"Do you have something in mind?" He asked playing with his tie as he stared down at his reflection in the shine of his shoes. He tilted his head back biting his lip waiting to see what you had in mind.

"Well... I mean not exactly but..." you trailed off staring off at the cool water in front of you. You didn't expect him to actually be down to meet again. You listened to your parents and reached out to him with absolutely no hope that he'd still want to talk but here you were. You weren't mad about it at all, he was attractive and if he could put up with your shitty mood last time then you should give it a try.

"How about this then," he cleared his throat swiveling back around to face his desk, "I have this... banquet to go to on Saturday and I can take a plus one. Would you like to accompany me?"

You thought about it for a second. A banquet? Those were so boring. You could list a thousand other things that'd be more fun to do this weekend. Considering he'll be going to this on Saturday no matter what, you knew he wouldn't do something different with you instead. You sighed quietly, "What would the attire be?"

"Formal," Taehyung said sitting up even more, "If this is something you're alright with doing we can meet then. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," you told him turning onto your front to tan your back, "Wouldn't it be better to give me your personal number?"

He agreed repeating the numbers for you to log and you sent a simple text saying who it was. The call ended and you went back to lounging while he went back to working.

You ended up meeting sooner than expected on Saturday, after a long morning of stressing on what to wear you ended up calling Taehyung, "I can't go! I have nothing to wear."

There was no hello, just straight to distress.

"What do you mean?" Taehyung asked when you called having a meltdown at ten in the morning, "Why can't you go? I already RSVP'd."

He was in the middle of brunch when you called making him excuse himself from his friends to answer your call. You whined a little, "I don't have anything formal. I can't go, I have nothing to wear."

He let out a sigh, "I'm sure there's something in your closet or—"

"No! There isn't. I looked in both closets and there's absolutely nothing I can wear. Especially if there will be press there I can't be caught in the same dress I've worn before," you were visibly freaking out standing in your bedroom sized closet staring at all the dresses dresses and skirts. Your shoe collection scattered on the floor, hand bags thrown half hazard across the middle island of jewelry. You wanted to cry.

He bit into his bottom lip in thought. He checked the time on his wrist watch, "Can you be ready in an hour? I'll head over to pick you up and we'll go out and find you a dress. How does that sound?"

"Okay."

Click.

Taehyung ran his hand over his face. You just... you just played him basically. You came to him acting like a brat over not wanting to wear the same outfit twice and he just... he just gave you what you wanted so easily. He mindlessly offered to take you shopping and that satisfied you enough to stop complaining.

He had just been thinking about how spoiled you were and he was quickly enabling it just like everyone else around you. With a huff of air out his cheeks he headed back to his table of friends already struggling at explaining why he'd be leaving so suddenly.

"I, unfortunately, have to get going. Something came up," he cleared his throat hoping he could get away with just saying that. Jimin was the first to interrogate him, a smirk evident on his face, "Something or someone?"

"I'd be curious to know too," Jin piped in, "I saw the article of you and Y/n L/n having lunch together. It wasn't positive."

Taehyung shrugged rummaging through his wallet to get money for his bill. He set it on the table, "It's a work in progress." He left it at that leaving them even more curious than before and left to pick you up.

Once you were in his car he drove to luxury brand stores with high quality formal attire. He was lucky to be able to sit in the private waiting room in the middle of a circle of fitting rooms. He had a glass of champagne in hand waiting for you. You disappeared for a short moment changing into a dress he picked and came back out with a sour expression. His eyes scanned your head to toe. The dress was a soft cream and hugged your curves perfectly. It was taken in at your waist and had puffy sheer sleeves.

"This is so ugly," you said honestly turning to look at him, "I look like a peach."

"Well it's better than some of the stuff you've shown me," he argued making your eyes roll. You hoisted the dress up and left the waiting room to pick out your own dresses. You marched back into the fitting room and chose another one.

Next you sauntered out in a deep red mini silk dress, a slit on the side and a deep V. Immediately shook his head, "No."

"Why?" You asked checking yourself out in the mirror, “I look good.” The end of the dress barely reached your fingertips. Taehyung was looking at you from behind shaking his head, "You do but maybe for a night out, not for a company banquet. Let's find something else."

With a little stomp of your foot you returned to the fitting room to change.

When Taehyung picked you up later on in the evening he could already feel his patience thinning. Thankfully you managed to come to an agreement on a dress earlier but you made it so sultry.

The long black fitted dress with a long slit down your leg, back completely exposed as the dress barely covered your butt. The way it hugged your figure and sparkled of silver embroidery. The black dress looked exquisite on you especially with the way you styled your hair and chose jewelry. Anyone walking by would assume you're on the way to a red carpet instead.

The dress wasn't what made him feel impatient if not the person wearing it. He could already tell you were a handful and he was willingly involving himself with you because he liked it. All eyes had been on you the second you entered the venue and it was obvious why. Heads turned in your direction either in awe or judgement.

In his eyes, you were the most show stopping in the room. You stuck out in the best way possible and he was the one with you. Taehyung knows that he’s worth envying and when paired with you, who people also envied, it was like a perfect match. His hand on your lower bare back lead you to a group of people who all turned to look you up and down.

"Ah! It's the socialite," Jin said with a smirk on his face as you both approached. You were known for being out an any social event that met your standards. You didn't say anything hearing them all introduce themselves and Taehyung's arm wrapped around your waist, "This is Y/n L/n, my date tonight."

A server came around holding a tray of champagne and you happily took a glass as well as Taehyung. You could already tell tonight was going to be boring but Taehyung looked so good in his Givenchy suit that he was all you could focus on. You caught a few girls checking him out too but that didn't come as a surprise. In the inner circle of influential people Kim Taehyung was a well known bachelor. A lot of women had their eyes on him yet here he was with you.

A spoiled girl known to get what you want and currently that's him. They couldn't even compete and yet you still felt annoyed whenever one of them would pass and gawk at your date.

"I'll be back," you whispered to him, "I'm gonna go find a restroom to freshen up." He looked around for an idea of which direction you'd be heading to and nodded. He wasn't expecting you to lean up and plant a soft kiss on his neck but he wasn't against it at all.

Taehyung watched the sway of your hips as you walked away, the glass of champagne brushing against his bottom lip as he went to take a drink. Namjoon cleared his throat, "Y/n definitely knows how to make an entrance."

"Are you sure you'll know what to do with all of that? I heard Y/n's a lot to handle," Hoseok said still looking after you before disappearing among the crowd of people all turning to stare at you, "I mean... if you need any help I'd be happy to."

Taehyung forced a smile on his face, "I got it." Jimin cleared his throat, "She knows how to show off her best assets. How'd you let her come out in that?"

He shrugged. He didn't care for the conversation or the way they talked about you for that matter. He took a small sip before answering, "Y/n can wear what she wants.”

He learned that earlier today. Jin looked at him, "And you're okay with that? Look at all the attention she's getting." Taehyung turned to him, "I'm not worried."

"Taehyung!" He kept himself in place ignoring the call of his name. Only a second later and a hand attached itself to his bicep squeezing slightly, "Oh my, I didn't see you come in."

A woman appeared at his side, smile on her face as she clung to him. He looked down at her, "Mina."

"Oh my god, don't be so serious, haven't seen you in so long," Mina said oblivious to his glare.

Mina had been a fling he had a few years ago. He was younger, not as established, and just looking for some fun. It was never anything serious and as he grew older he learned about how little patience he had with the actress.

You applied the finishing touch of lip gloss fixing your hair in the mirror as you left the wash room. It took you a total of .5 seconds to find Taehyung and his friends again. You hadn't expected to find a woman on his arm though. Your eyes narrowed at the sight zoning in on her and making your way over. Nobody seemed to notice your arrival until you were directly in front of them.

Taehyung's breath of relief at your arrival had gone over your head as you leaned your weight on one hip flicking your hair off your shoulder. He cleared his throat using his hand to push Mina's off his bicep before wrapping his arm around your waist, "Y/n, shall we go find our seats?"

"Hello, I'm Mina," you forced a feigned polite smile even when your eyes showed something else as she introduced herself to you before you could leave to your table, "And you are?"

"Y/n..." you said giving her the same once over she was currently giving you. Mina looked you up and down, "How do you know Taehyung?"

You couldn't bite back the sour tone, "Does it matter to you?" She looked visibly taken back as Taehyung turned away from her hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink. Why did he kind of like how blunt you were? Jin and Hoseok snickered, they all knew how much Mina annoyed Taehyung.

"Oh!" Mina clapped, "I was just curious what dumb bimbo Taehyung sank his teeth into this time, at least now I know who."

Everyone seemed to stop moving, eyes wide at her words. Even if they didn’t know you personally everyone knew you and your family weren’t ones you should talk about negatively. Mina didn’t seem to get that.

Your face brightened at the hint of an insult sent your way. You always did love a good bitch fight. You smiled feeling Taehyung turn ready to tell Mina to fuck off when you spoke, "For a washed up has-been like you, you've got some nerve saying that to me. Just say you're upset he's not into you and run along before I get a little mean, alright?"

"I think it's too late for that," Namjoon whispered even as he fought off the need to laugh. Mina was a has-been who used Taehyung to gain influence and then slept with her yoga instructor. You turned to Taehyung, "I'm hungry."

It took him a second to process what had just happened and then he was nodding his head leading you to your seats to wait for the food to be served. Mina watched him leave with you with her jaw dropped. Taehyung held your chair out for you before pushing you in. He sat in his own seat and turned to you, "Let me apologize for what just happened. She came up to me while you were gone an—"

"I don't care," you brushed your fingers through your hair staring straight ahead. You didn't even bother hiding the bad mood you were in now. Throughout the dinner and speeches he tried getting your attention but you were cold toward him like it had all been his fault. It reminded him of the bad attitude you had on your lunch date and he wasn't going to put up with it for a second time.

By the end of the night you were waiting outside for the valet to bring Taehyung's car over and you stood a few feet away from him, arms crossed over your chest like a child upset they didn't get what they wanted. He scoffed watching you open the door to the back of his car and sit inside. He stopped the door from closing as he glared down at you, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," you told him plainly looking ahead. Without thinking he reached for your hand and pulled you out of the car with little force as he cornered you against the side, "Listen, you're not going to be catching an attitude with me. Either you sit up front next to me like a big girl or you throw your little fit and I leave you here and go home. You decide."

He stood closely, his chest touching your crossed arms as neither one of you looked away, waiting for the other to stand down first. You didn't like this. You wanted to throw a fit and keep up your bad attitude but he won't let you. Or no, he will but he'll leave and you're not interested in finding a cab on your own. So, with a pout on your face and a roll of your eyes you climbed into the front seat slamming the door in his face. Looking around to make sure nobody other than the valet saw your act of defiance he fixed his suit as if to not appear disheveled. He rounded over to his side of the car and got in.

It's bad how much he liked putting you in your place as well as how much he liked seeing you act out and be a brat. Clearing his throat he put his seatbelt on and drove off.

Despite wanting to run out the car and up to your apartment Taehyung didn't let you. He locked the door before you could open and pushed the button repeatedly when you tried unlocking it. Turning to yell at him he gave you a look that read 'try me' so you didn't.

He put the car in park in front of your building, "If you're upset about something, talk to me. Don't just get mad and take it out on me because I won't be putting up with that. What happened earlier was all because of Mina so I understand being upset but I don't care about her, I care about you. If you would've given me the chance I would've told her to fuck off myself."

"I don't need you doing anything for me," you told him. He reached for the hand you had on the arm rest, "I know you don't but I want to. The same way I want to see you again but just know that if you keep giving me attitude over every little thing thing, I'm going to keep putting you in your place. The way you've treated me so far is childish and all you've shown me is how spoiled and immature you are."

He thought back to the first date and the way you acted like he was the one at fault. Or even when you called crying about the dress only to get happy when he offered to buy you a new one. The way you complained to him for five minutes about how ugly the dress he picked out for you originally was and didn't try to cooperate at all. The way you handled your business with Mina and then turned around and took it out on him. And it's a big problem because he's willingly taking it all due to his growing feelings for you. You had a six year age gap and it felt like your maturity levels were on completely different ends of the spectrum.

"If I'm so spoiled and immature then why do you want to see me again?" You scoffed looking away from him. There you go again. The hand that had been on the steering wheel moved to cup your face forcing you to look at him but your eyes still wandered in refusal to obey. He waited until your eyes did meet his, "Because I'm into you and your little attitude doesn't scare me when I know you're into me too. We wouldn't be here right now if you weren't."

For some reason that made your insides turn giddy. The way he was so mature, and his deep voice sent shivers down your spine. The way he told you it how it was from the very beginning ordering you to sit still and look pretty while he let you know you won't be having any attitude with him. You liked it a lot. You liked him a lot.

You hated how reasonable and calm he is though. You wanted to see him snap. So far you've done a lot of things that have granted someone/anyone to yell at you and he has yet to do that. The most he's done is give his reasoning for ignore you and order you to sit up front with him. You wanted him to really show you who you're messing with and you wanted to see how much you could get away with.

He's only seen bits and pieces of how bad your attitude could get—even a hint of your jealous and possessive side—but you knew you could push his buttons even further. Without another word you leaned forward until your lips pressed against his. Completely taken back it took him a moment to get to his senses and kiss you back.

His eyes fell shut as his hand held your face close to his deepening the kiss as needed. Taehyung's tongue swiped along your bottom lip before exploring the inside of your mouth. The soft muscles of your tongue and his fought for dominance as the kiss turned into a heated make out. He released a soft groan when you sucked on his tongue eagerly. You pushed forward moving to straddle his lap but he stopped you before you could.

You whined, "What now?" You tried going back to kiss him but he shook his head loosening his tie as he caught his breath. "No?" You asked feeling annoyed again, "What do you mean no?" Nobody ever tells you no.

"No, as in no, Y/n," Taehyung said sternly, "You've been in a bad mood the whole ride here—practically all night ignoring me, and now you want me to just give in to what you want? No."

"I've wanted you all night," you said honestly making his wall crumble a little bit he kept up his act. He had to put his foot down. He scoffed, "Well you could've fooled me. I'll call you when I get home, how about that?"

"Whatever," you rolled your eyes pulling the lock up and finally getting out. You slammed his car door shut and made your way up the steps to your building hearing the sound of a window rolling down. Taehyung looked through it, "Text me when you get inside, I want to make sure you make it back safely."

"Fuck you," you muttered making him smile, "I heard that."

Throughout the last couple of weeks that Taehyung has had the chance to get to know you he's learned a few things about you and himself.

One, that you love the attention. You love the stares and the whispers. You lived for being in the spotlight and the center of attention.

Two, that you're surprisingly clingy and needy. Alright not that surprising but still clingy. You called each other every day mostly for him to listen to you rant about some injustice done against you ranging from someone taking the pair of Jimmy Choo's you wanted to classes at the University starting up soon. You listened to him tell you about his latest project and boring meetings he had to attend.

Third, he loves giving you the attention. He's learned you're very easy to confide in. You listen and seem genuinely interested in what he says. When you talk to him it doesn't seem rehearsed to cater to him. You're honest saying what's on your mind and he likes that.

Not a lot of people can put up with you, you'll admit that. You've got a very small circle of friends who you genuinely trust and confide in. You never expected Taehyung to quickly insert himself as one of the chosen few.

The only two other people in this tight knit circle were your best friends who were currently interrogating you. Jungkook couldn't hold in his laugh as you retold the events of the last couple of weeks.

Your friend Yoongi shook his head in astonishment as the three of you lounged around Jungkook's million dollar apartment gifted to him by his parents for graduating University. You were sprawled across one of his couches waiting for him to find something the three of you could do for the night telling them of the guy you've been seeing.

"I'm actually genuinely surprised it's going so well for you," Jungkook said stifling a laugh as you flipped him the bird. Yoongi shook his head, "I, for one, expected this when you told us who you'd be going on a date with."

"What do you mean?" You asked flipping for your phone around on your stomach absentmindedly. You remembered telling the two in a group call before your date. You'd just gotten home from a week long trip to Paris when your parents informed you of the date set up.

Tired beyond belief and with nothing to wear you had a meltdown in your closet. You had watched time tick on by closer to the meet up time and you hadn't cared. In that moment you were more focused on your lack of wardrobe ranting to your friends about the man you'd be going on a date with.

You remember saying, in the middle of a tantrum, how you didn't care if you were late and if he bailed. You weren't going to go until you found the perfect outfit just to spite your parents for throwing this on you just as you landed in Seoul.

Yoongi shrugged, "I just knew. I met him once at a grand opening for some art museum and he seemed like the exact type of person you needed."

Your brows furrowed in confusion looking to Jungkook who looked just as equally confused as he cleared his throat, "Feel free to explain because I'm pretty sure neither of us get what you're saying."

"I'm saying that Taehyung seems like a good fit for you," Yoongi told you, "You need someone who matches your energy when you're being bitchy. Someone who'll tell you how it is without you asking for it. Don't say you don't like when someone puts you in your place."

This, unfortunately, was a very normal conversation topic for you three. Being friends for years you'd gotten closer in your prep school years. You experienced a lot of 'first's' right after the other and the subject was easy to discuss. The amount of things you've heard about Jungkook's sex life or Yoongi's bedroom behavior with his girlfriend was unbelievable.

"I mean... it's not boring..." you answered cautiously as you thought on it further. Now that you think about it, you've been more caught up on Taehyung than any of the other guys your parents introduced you to.

He didn't cater to your every request. He didn't even try and take any advances in the car when you kissed him. He was respectful and kind. But at the same time, it was something in the way he reeled you back in. In the midst of an anger fit he is quick to let you know he won't be the one you take it out on. He'll make you own up to your actions [like arriving late on the first date] and he doesn't let you distance yourself during that time.

Before people would easily give you what you want if it meant you'd stopped being a bitch or you'd be left alone until your tantrum wore off. Taehyung was the opposite. He confronted you about your rude behavior toward him when he was at his last straw. He didn't even let you pout in his back seat after the banquet. He let you know he wasn't going to be your punching bag and instead wanted to talk about things to you.

And on the phone he was very gentle. His deep voice was calming every time you tell him about your day or anything that might've upset you. He made you laugh when you wanted to be mad. Maybe he was what you needed and Yoongi was right.

Before you could add on to your previous statement you were cut off by your phone's ringtone. The three of you shared a knowing look before you answered, "Hello?"

"I want to see you," Taehyung said softly as he paced his office staring at the sunset outside his 100th floor window view. You let out a dramatic sigh, "I don't even get a hello back?"

Your two friends scooted closer in curiosity making you try and wave them off. They stuck to you like glue. Taehyung smiled a little on his end, "Hello sweetheart, how's your day going?"

"Oh," you couldn't help to smile as your friend silently gagged at the sweetness, "Pretty boring, nothing to do."

Taehyung bit his lip in thought, "Well I can change that, how does dinner at my place sound?"

"What time?" You asked looking to your friends whose faces lit up at the proposition. They were well rounded gossips.

Taehyung checked the time, "I'll be off in about an hour or so... I'm not sure let's say 7:00?"

You groaned, feeling bored being at Jungkook's with nothing to do, dressed to impress, you needed to do something now, "But I want to see you now."

At that Yoongi rolled his eyes at your impatience but without missing a beat Taehyung offered up, "Well if you want you can come down to my office and wait with me here. We'll go back to mine and have dinner together."

"Okay," you began sitting up, "Then I'll see you in a bit?"

You said your goodbyes and Yoongi laughed. He pointed his pinky up as he mocked you with Jungkook, "Oh you both are so whipped for each other."

"Whatever, someone take me to Taehyung's office," you said already gathering your things expecting someone to drive you without saying please or asking nicely. With a huff Yoongi stood, "I'll drop you off on my way to Jina's. Let's go."

"Wait so you're both leaving me?" Jungkook asked looking back at the two as they rounded toward the door. You waved goodbye and you left with Yoongi.

To say the front desk receptionists were complete taken aback as you stormed into the lobby would be an understatement. From your kitten heels to the mini tennis skirt and fitted cropped knit sweater and the dangle gold earrings. Your hair was pinned back by a hair clip and your lips shined with gloss, you stuck out like a sore thumb in the gray lobby.

You displayed a perfect smile as you approached the front desk, "Hi I'm here to see Kim Taehyung if you don't mind letting him know Y/n L/n is here."

The woman nodded giving you one more look before dialing a number. You heard her talk on the phone, look back at you, nod her head and hang up. She forced a smile on her face, "I'm sorry but his secretary has informed me he's extremely busy today, maybe if you set an appointment you can come back."

You mimicked her smile, "Is that so? Alright, give me one moment." The woman's fake smile didn't falter as you took your phone out and called someone.

"Hey, are you almost here?" Taehyung asked staring down the empty hall where his secretary typed away on her computer.

"I'm downstairs actually," you told him looking back at the receptionist, "But apparently you're extremely busy so I should schedule an appointment to see you another day. Is this how I’m going to be treated every time I come?”

Her smile faltered. There's no way you, dressed the way you were, would be on the phone with her big bad boss who never had any women visit him in the office aside from family. Taehyung's brows furrowed, "Give me a moment I'll come down and get you."

You hung up with an innocent smile on your face as you and the receptionist had a staring contest. Only a couple minutes later did Taehyung reach the lobby and walked over to the front desk.

He pulled you into a hug as he kissed your cheek in greeting. Taehyung looked at the receptionist who looked completely taken back as he wrapped an arm around your waist, "If you don't mind putting her name down just so Y/n won't have to wait down here again."

"Yes of course sir, my apologies," the reception fumbled for a second as she rushed to do as told. Taehyung led you to the elevator and you turned sending the two front desk clerks a perfect wink before disappearing around the corner.

Once in the privacy of the elevator Taehyung pulled you into him. His mouth found yours giving you the second kiss you've had since you met. You were caught off guard but welcomed the action with arms around his neck pulling him closer. He pressed you into the mirrored wall cupping your face in both hands as his brows scrunched together in bliss.

The only thing to pull you away is the final ding of the elevator and you quickly rushed to wipe off your lip gloss from the corners of his mouth. Straight at the end of the wide hall was his office, his secretary posted just outside his door.

She looked over to you two as Taehyung led you down to his office. An idea sparking in your head as you stopped directly in front of her desk, "So, what were you so busy with that I wouldn’t even be able to see you unless I set an appointment?”

Immediately the secretary shrunk behind her computer. Taehyung stood in confusion as he tried to think about it. Turning to his secretary, "Miss Yoona, did the lobby call you a few minutes ago?”

She stood up, "Yes sir, my apologies I'd seen you on your desktop and thought you were in a video conference." You could see her lying through her teeth.

In truth everyone had been confused. You, the way you looked, did not make sense for someone to have business with Kim Taehyung. You don't even seem like his type to them. Taehyung didn't say anything for a moment before taking your hand in his, "Well next time, even if I'm in a meeting let Y/n through. She can always just wait in my office. Don't make the same mistake twice, alright?"

"Yes sir."

You smiled being dragged into his office and immediately threw your arms around him. He lifted you up a little kissing you harder than before. Your relationship had evolved since the last time you saw each other but he wasn't going to forget everything else. He set you back down, "I've just got a few emails to send and then we can head out."

It took about forty minutes for Taehyung to finish up and then the two of you were leaving for the day.

This was the first time you stepped into his apartment looking around and taking everything in. Taehyung was already in the kitchen taking out pots and pans. He rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up and was glancing up at you now and then as you wandered around, "You gonna help me cook tonight?"

"No," you said simply, "I don't know how to."

"You can always learn," Taehyung shrugged as he rinsed some vegetables, "Come here."

You whined, "Tae I'll burn your kitchen down."

"You'll just dice," Taehyung told you sliding a cutting board and nice across the island toward you, "Come on Y/n, we're doing this together."

"Then let's go out to eat, I don't want to dice."

He sent you a look as he waited patiently. Sensing his sudden authoritative behavior you crossed your arms in front of your chest, "You're the one who wanted to cook, not me."

"Yes honey, you're right, but I figured it's something we can do together and you can learn something too," he told you softly. You rolled your eyes, "I don't want to learn anything. I'm fine not knowing how to cook. And if you're going to be like this then I'll just leave."

There you go again. He's learned another thing about you though he really only notices it when you're in a room together. It was that you took the easy way out. Any sign of work or difficulty made you want to give up and he didn't appreciate that. All because he's asking you to spend some quality time cooking together [something you don't want to do] now you want to leave. Sensing his change in demeanor you tried a new tactic.

You wrapped your arms around his waist as he began to cut some steak, "Come on Taehyungie, I'm no good in the kitchen anyway."

"Well you don't even try," he said but he's not sure if he's talking in regards to the cooking or to your unlabeled relationship. You planted a soft kiss on his neck, "Then let's skip dinner and you can see me try and make it up to you in other ways."

He let out a sigh, "Not tonight."

"I hate him."

"Sure you do," Jungkook chuckled as he dug into his lunch, "Why do you hate him this time?"

"I've never met a man who doesn't want to have sex," you said honestly. You sat with your two best friends in a private section for lunch. The restaurant sat you in a secluded booth hidden behind an aquarium wall.

You sounded desperate but you didn't care. You've never met a guy who turns down your advances and you hated that. If he could just give you what you want, that'd be great. Yoongi shrugged as he said, "Maybe he's trying to actually connect with you before having sex."

"Why?" You asked, "I'm already into him, he's into me, I don't get it. I'm not asking him to prove he likes me."

"Yes but maybe he's just not the type of guy to sleep with someone until he's sure of them," Yoongi added watching both you and Jungkook stare at him in confusion.

"Think about it, you say you had a rough start with each other because of the first date and all. Maybe he wants to prove he's genuinely interested in going out with you but he wants to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into with him too," Yoongi told you, "He's making you work for it by making you wait. I told you he's right for you, the only guy to never give in to you right away."

"He's a better man than me," Jungkook joked as he stuffed his mouth with food, "The second Y/n complains I do whatever it takes to shut her up." You hit his arm and he laughed.

You shook your head at what Yoongi was telling you, "Well I don't like it."

"When do you see him again?" Jungkook asked you.

"Tonight, we're going out for drinks with a couple of his friends but it's weird. He hasn't even asked me to be his girlfriend yet but treats me like one. I don't get him at all."

"You should make him jealous," Jungkook told you with a shrug of his shoulders as Yoongi shook his head in disapproval, "I bet that'll make him move quicker."

So, despite knowing you should listen to what Yoongi had said over lunch, you went with Jungkook's idea.

You and Taehyung were currently at the lounge bar he was meeting his friends at. You sat in a booth with his arm around you as he talked with his friends.

You were bored of their conversation about stocks. You couldn't stop thinking about what Jungkook had said. Taehyung's being super unfair to you. He makes you think he has feelings for you then does things like refuse to sleep with you all because you told him you weren't going to help him cook.

You didn't care if it made you sound desperate or easy. You knew what you wanted and that was him so what gives him the right to make you work for it?

Taehyung watched you stand up abruptly, his arm falling away from you, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get myself a drink," you told him not waiting for him to respond before you left.

"So how's it going in La La Land with the princess?" Jimin asked Taehyung as he watched you disappear through the crowd to the bar. Taehyung turned back to face his friends, "Can you refrain from making comments like that? We're fine."

"You know, I've always heard she's difficult," Jin added making Taehyung glare at him.

"Y/n's not difficult," he told them all, "She's just young and has some maturing to do. She's actually very sweet and easy to talk to when you get to know her."

It's true, he genuinely believes it but he also knows how hard it could be to deal with you when you're on your high horse. That's the only reason he hasn't put into words how badly he wants to make it official with you. He doesn't think you're ready for the sort of commitment he's willing to give. If he's with you he's not going to just give you whatever you want because you're acting out. He's not going to let you take the easy way out. He's going to make you communicate your needs and wants to him and help you separate them.

You might want everything in the world [and he'll give it to you] but not if you snap at him anytime he does something you don't like. The way you got irritated when he refused to skip dinner and have fun with you instead had been comical. He'd been two seconds away from ditching it all together till you snapped at him and stormed out of his apartment. When he called you later that night all you said in regards to dinner and storming off was, 'Well nobody can make me do something I don't want to do.'

"I'm gonna go check on Y/n," Taehyung muttered after checking the time. You'd been gone for a while now and he went straight to the bar to find you.

When he couldn't see you he had to walk around a bit wondering if you'd gotten lost in the thick crowd of people. He hadn't expected to find you with someone else.

Taehyung stood back watching feeling a slight tinge of something in his chest. His jaw clenched at the sight of your hand on the guy's arm. His mind did not stray elsewhere as he stormed over to where you were, not uttering out a single word.

The guy you were talking to glares up at him at the sudden change in air with his arrival. He chuckled, "Mind backing off man? I'm talking here."

You didn't say anything staring at Taehyung as he stood directly in front of the stranger you’ve been chatting with. He had stopped you on your way back to the table with your drink and he fell as your perfect victim. You were going to listen to what Jungkook said and make him jealous. Taehyung's eyes bored into the guy's, "It'd be better if you walk away."

"Oh come on Tae," you smiled feigning innocence, "We were just talking."

"Whoa are you two together?" The guy asked looking back to you. At the same time both you and Taehyung answered him.

"Yes."

"No."

The guy chuckled, "Alright so you're not?"

"Not that I know of," you shrugged knowing that Taehyung was staring at you now. You were getting under his skin and you liked it, maybe then he'll stop being so nonchalant and give you a reaction.

Taehyung smiled, "Fine Y/n, if you want to stand here and talk to him then I'll give you exactly what you want and leave you to it."

He walked away.

It took you a total of .03 seconds to chase after him in regret, "Tae wait—"

"No, you want to act like a little girl fine by me but I won't keep taking it," he didn't stop, "You want to talk to other guys and say we aren't together, whatever I won't keep trying since you clearly aren't."

"You haven't asked me to be your girlfriend."

"Because I don't have to!" Taehyung snapped at you over the loud music, "We're adults Y/n. We go on dates, we kiss and hug and talk on the phone all fucking day. We're very public too, everyone knows we're together but you."

"You want me to give in to everything you want but when I ask you for something you can't do it," Taehyung scoffed. He was annoyed now and he needed some space. He was making his way over to the empty hall where the restrooms would be, you still hot on his trail. This was the first time you’ve ever heard him snap.

"I ask you to go to an event with me and you complain you don't have the right dress so we go out and get you one," he started to list off his reasons, "I want to enjoy the night with you but because you're in a bad mood we don't talk at all through that night."

"I call and tell you I'd like to have dinner together and you say you don't cook. You say you don't want to have quality time with me," Taehyung said, "Then you storm off and tell me over the phone that nobody is going to make you do what you don't want to do."

"You're the one who's not trying to be in a relationship with me," Taehyung said, "From the very beginning. So just give me some space right now."

You didn't listen following him into the men's washroom not caring if anyone was in there. Thankfully for you, there wasn't. It was a fancy bathroom with cement walls separating each stall and when he turned to glare at you, you pushed him into one. He looked taken back as he hit the wall. You stood in front of him, "I want to be with you."

He didn't say anything. You let out a sigh before continuing, "I want to be with you Taehyung but you just make me so mad when you don't give me what I want."

"So what is that you want?" Taehyung asked slightly turned on by way you just pushed him up against the wall despite your smaller stature. The fact you were going to express to him your needs instead of just getting mad at him for not giving in right away. He liked that. He wanted to communicate.

You stomped your heeled foot softly, "I want you. I want to be with you but you're so mean."

"How?" Taehyung asked, "Because I don't let you walk all over me? Because I don't give you everything you want right away? Because I genuinely want us to work? Tell me what you want and I'll do it right now... but only if you tell me with words instead of just expecting me to know."

"I want you..." you repeated in a whisper making him sigh. Without another word, you watched him drop to his knees on the surprisingly clean floor.

"You want me?" Taehyung asked double checking, "Fine, I'll give you what you want but I don't want to hear you whine that it's too much.

His fingers ran over the waist of your dress and you nodded in excitement. Finally, finally, he was going to just give you what you've wanted since the first time you saw him even if you would never admit it. Taehyung was sliding his hand under your fitted mini dress groaning already, "Are you serious?"

"What?" You asked biting your lip as he glared up at you. He shook his head, his hand feeling your bare pussy, "You're not wearing any underwear and you wanted to talk to other guys tonight? Seriously?"

"I wanted to make you jealous," you said honestly, a gasp leaving your lips when his hand swiped between your folds, "So that you could g—give me what I wanted."

"And this is what you wanted?" He pulled your dress up scooting closer so that his face was only centimeters away from your parted legs. One of his hands held your waist while the other worked to separate your legs. He collected wetness from your entrance and used it to rub your clit, your knees twitched with the wave of warmth that came over you, "Yes, please."

You leaned back against the stall's wall and placed your hand on his head to brace yourself so you could guide him to where you needed him most. All those times he's been stern with you have done nothing but get under your skin and leave you turned on. He laughed, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder.

He laughed, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. "You're a needy little thing, aren't you?" He chuckled, "that's fine. I'll give you what you want but don't get used to it." Your head fell back against the wall as his lips met your centre, he started off with small kitten licks keeping a tight grip on your thigh as it rested on his shoulders. He was teasing in the way he barely licked at your entrance and before you could tell at him that you wanted more he pulled your clit into his mouth. Your lips drew apart in a quiet moan as he toyed with your clit using his tongue to swirl it around. His lips sucked around it, the tip of his tongue hitting the tip of your clit as he made you grind against his face.

Your hands pushed his head closer to you, Taehyung eagerly sucking on your clit as his free hand began to swiped along your folds. He pushed the tip of his middle finger into your entrance while his mouth worked your sensitive spot. He looked up at you, his mouth never giving up, as he watched your body ripple in waves of pleasure that only he could give you. His mouth went back to your clit and his middle finger crooked upwards to rub your G-spot. A second finger quickly joined the first as you moaned, "Tae, please, I want more."

Neither one of you seemed to care about the fact that you were in the men's washroom. He let out another chuckle at your whine as he lifted his head, "you gotta be quiet baby or else I stop."

You grunted in frustration, "Then give me more." He shook his head and pulled away again, "What did I say? You aren't going to boss me around Y/n, now take what I give you and bring your voice down."

He smiled when you shied back into his touch, "Good girl," he said smacking your clit lightly in praise. He went back to his task in earnest, paying careful attention to your body as he went on. He felt you fluttered around him and it only made him work quicker. He was now fully kneeled between your legs, his mouth gliding over to your wet cunt leaving open mouth kisses against your heat. His fingers working overtime feeling you shudder and his tongue lapped up whatever slick his fingers pushed out of you.

Feeling your walls begin to crumble you pulled on his hair, "So close." And just like that, just those two words and he is pulling away despite your cries.

He stood up on his feet pulling your dress down for you as you fought against his hold, "Stop Y/n, look at me."

"Why? I was so close!" You whined kicking your foot in a fit. Taehyung opened the door looking out to make sure nobody was there. He's sure people heard you two but as long as they didn't see your faces he didn't care. He pulled you out, "Because of your little stunt you did to make me jealous. If you want me to give you what you want then I gotta know I'm getting something too."

"This isn't going to be a one sided relationship," he told you leading you out the restroom, "And I want you to be my girlfriend but I need you to know that you won't always get what you want. I want to give you the world Y/n, I really do, but only if you show me that you're willing to make sacrifices for me too."

"I will!" You said as he cut through the crowds of people making a beeline to the door, "But I was so close!"

"You think you deserved it? You think you can flirt with other guys in my face and it'll get you what you want with no consequences?" He asked turning to you for a quick moment, "I'm sorry baby but that's not how it works."

"Are we leaning?" You asked, the wetness between your legs getting uncomfortable as your orgasm had been taken from you just moments ago, "What about your friends?"

namjoon: u ditched us but I'm sure u got a good reason ;)

So evidently, he's reminded yet again of two things.

The first? That you were a huge brat who threw a big fit in the car for being left mid orgasm in the bathroom and dragged out.

Second, that you did in fact always get what you want.

"Y/N, you can't be serious..." He wanted to say but he couldn't. Not with you playfully nipping the erection through his clothes and making a whimper escape his lips in the process. "Y/N...fuck, can't you just wait? You're always so... needy."

You pulled down his pants and boxershorts, his hard cock springing upwards - only inches away from your face. You didn't care if the two of you were currently in the elevator on the way up to your floor. Luckily, you lived in a penthouse which meant there was a lot of time waiting in the elevator. Instantly, you placed your lips around his tip when he made no physical effort to stop you, making him close his eyes and breathe deeply. He didn't actually want you to stop, he liked that you took what you wanted especially if it was him.

"Baby, please..." Taehyung began to softly pet your head, before he couldn't stand the pressure anymore - he'd ball a fist in your hair, pulling your mouth closer to thrust into it. Your tongue circled around his head licking down the vein on the underside of his hard length. His head was thrown back, taking it all in, or well, having you take it all in. He can't imagine being in this situation with someone else. He can't imagine [doesn't want to] you doing this with someone else. He was the one for you the same as you were the one for him.

"Fuck..." he whispered as he heared you try to surpress your gag reflex, his cock being way too big for being shoved your throat. Looking up at the floor number making sure there was still time and also praying nobody came in. You didn't care,you'd keep on going, head moving up and down fast until he was satisfied.

You looked up as you clenched your fingers around his member, while still enthusiastically sucking him as if you wanted to milk him dry. The way you looked at him made him want to cover that pretty face of yours into his cum and let you know exactly who's in charge in the bedroom—or elevator?

That none of those other guys that have been able to handle your attitude know what to do with you. That only he will be the one to give you what you want and need.

"Wait!" he panted. "God, Y/N... wait!"

Ding.

You were on your floor. Before the doors opened you were helping him tuck himself back into his jeans and he was urging you out of the elevator. His hand on your lower back as his body walked closely behind yours. "Oh, you're such a brat," was his firm response to the whole fiasco, as he watched you swipe your key card. He began to fondle your breasts turning you in his arms to face him as you entered your apartment. He pushed you against the wall and you could feel his hard on against your stomach as he wrapped your legs around his waist hoisting you up.

"Where?" He asked pressing his lips against yours. You pointed toward your bedroom and he was taking off in that direction. The kiss was needy, hungry and full of want from the both of you. Taehyung set you down on the bed never once taking his mouth off you as he crawled over you. He was tugging on your dress at the ends until a clear tearing sound was heard. You bit your lip helping him shake you from the confines of fabric while pulling on the buttons of his shirt until it split open.

"You couldn't wait the two minutes it took to get here?" He asks groping at your exposed chest. You'd gone without a bra or underwear so when he tore into the dress it was like opening a present. His pants are uncomfortably tight with need as he buried his face into your breasts.

"Such a fucking brat," he exhales, tugging a nipple roughly between his teeth as his hand squeezed the soft flesh, "You know it too. Always know how to get what you want."

"I know," you said, grinning in anticipation as your hands traveled along his back, "But you like it."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, his fingers find your little clit between your legs still sensitive from his earlier ministrations where he left you high and dry—or wet in this case.

"I do," he groaned loving the way your face contorts with the pleasure he's giving you, "I love it so fucking much baby. Makes me wanna out you in your place."

"Then do it... Daddy," you bit your lip as the words left your mouth. He froze for a second, the word sending a ripple of arousal down his body. You were his baby and now you were calling him that. His little brat. But you've just made a huge mistake addressing him as such. His thumb speeds up. Your hands tighten around his shoulder, your head pressed against your pillows as your mouth drew open in a moan as he draws you closer and closer to the edge. His lips pressed against yours in a hungry kiss that had you so close to the edge.

And then again, he stops. You whine out in outrage, eyes flying open as you stomped around on your bed, "Oh my god! Taehyung!"

"Nuh uh," he tsks. "Let's try it again, what's my name?"

You turned away from him in disobedience. His free hand cupped your chin forcing you to look at him, "Be a good girl and tell me what's my name."

You bit into your tongue to keep you from calling him as such since he'd just ruined your orgasm for a second time. Instead, you snuck your hand between your bodies and went to your own core only for the hand that had been playing with your pussy to stop you. He's going to fuck you, no question about it, but do you deserve it after everything you've put him through?

"I'm gonna tell you this," he gripped your wrist watching you squirm, "If you don't behave, you don't get to cum. So listen to daddy, alright?"

"No," you said defiantly and it made your cunt leak as you continued to disobey. His dark expression didn't falter, "Listen here you little brat. If you want me to give you what you want then you're going to cooperate. This isn't going to be one way."

You still refused. It wasn't until you felt him begin to retract did you claw at him, "Wait Taehyung, plea—"

"Nuh uh. Don't call me Taehyung," he warned, "Don't get shy on me now. What did you call me earlier?"

Finally giving up on the attitude you let out a sigh. "... Please, daddy. I promise I'll be good."

That makes his insides melt, tugging down his jeans and briefs he kicks them off freeing the hardened cock you'd been teasing in the elevator. He grasps your chin softly this time and leans in, kissing your nose affectionately. "Good girl."

He lines himself up with your entrance and gently, he pushed in. You both should have probably checked for protection but in the heat of the moment it slipped from your minds. You'd both been only talking to each other for weeks and you were loyal to it and so was he. He waits a moment for your walks to stop tightening around him attempting to push him back out. Once your body is used to his girth, with a hold on your hips he drags himself out and in one go thrusts forward.

"Mmm," he groans into your neck, his body pressed against roughly against his as his hips began a steady pace thrusting into you, "So tight baby, am I making you feel good?"

"S-so good daddy," you moaned hiding your face in his neck as well letting your tongue lick along his skin, "But I wanna cum. 'M gonna cu—"

It wasn't your fault. You'd been worked up since the club and considering you haven't been with anyone else and he's refused to fuck you till now you're beyond frustrated. It made you turn sweet. "I'm sorry," you huff. "For being a brat and mouthing off and being bad... Or whatever but I wanna cum, please!"

"Not yet baby," he growled knowing that if you came now he'd have to get out and he was having too much fun fucking you right now. But the second he told you no it's like your switch flipped again. You had been sweet so he gives you what you want and he's still keeping it from you.

"You can't tell me when I can and can't cum," you said rolling your eyes and bucking your hips quicker, "I can do whatever I want."

With a deep grunt he snuck his hand under your arched back forcing you off the bed. Your legs hugged his waist as he sat you down on his thighs sitting on his haunches for support. Like that his hands gripped the roundness of your ass and lifted you up, "Oh you can? Let me hear it then. Say it again."

You tried to sink onto his cock again but his hold was tight keeping you from doing so. You were whining now as you wiggled, "Tae!"

Smack.

You jumped as he slapped your ass making sure you don't get more than just his tip, "Come on say it. Say you can do whatever you want and let's see if that's true."

"Ta—" Smack.

You groaned now close to tears as he kept you from cumming until finally, you listened.

"Please daddy," you cupped his face making him look at your rounded eyes, "Please I need you."

Mmm. He was crumbling, his cock twitched at the softness of your touch. So sweet and caring, you really were. His sweet girl.

"You need me?" He grunts, letting you slide down his length slowly. "Thought I couldn't tell you when you can and can't cum?"

"Please, please, please," you whimper, "Please, daddy, I need you." He liked that. He liked that it wasn't you wanting him like you want other things. It was you needing him.

"God, I love you," he confesses breathlessly, bouncing you on his cock letting you take control of the speed and force. He hasn't meant to say it but it slipped out and he would never take back something that was true. Especially not when it had you screaming as he held you down taking his entire length rutting into you back and forth hitting every nerve in your pussy making you see stars. You didn't even give a warning as you came undone impaled on his cock.

His eyes squeezed shut urging every muscle in his body to hold back from cumming in your tight walls feeling you tremble in his bare hug. And just when he thought you were finished, you pried his hands off you scooting out of his grip and falling into the bed. He had no time to process it as you made your way over and swallowed his hard dick in your mouth.

He grunts, low and animalistic in when he cums. A hand in your hair as you swallowed load after load of thick, creamy release in your mouth.

"Holy shit," he gasped out releasing your hair carefully as he swallowed back heaves of air panting. His hair was stuck to his face from sweating and he looked down at you breathing through his mouth. You were sliding your lips off his softening cock as his hand combed your hair back affectionately. You licked at the corners of your mouth where a little bit of cum has dribbled out and stared up at him.

Without thinking he leaned forward for a kiss dropping you back down onto your back. He fell on to your side caressing your face as his eyes locked with yours, "Do you know what this means?"

"What?" You asked looking back at him. Your eyes fluttered shut when he placed soft kisses on your neck.

"This means, I'm your boyfriend," he muttered hugging your stomach, "If you'll have me that is. If you don't think I'm too mean."

"I do think you're too mean," you told him honestly wrapping a hand around the arm thrown over your stomach, "But I like it and I like you. Does this mean we're dating?"

"We have been dating," he tells you snuggling further into you, "But this is me trying to make it official honey."

By morning you woke up a little earlier than him. You shook him until he was rolling off you with a grunt and it took more effort to wake him.

"Baby," he whined rolling back onto you, "Sleep just a little longer."

"I'm not tired," you said sitting up shaking him, "Come on wake up."

He could hear the attitude in your voice but he refused. You leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Please daddy?"

His eyes shot open looking back to you as you feigned innocence through your eyes. You smiled, "Let's get showered and then have breakfast."

"I don't want to go out for breakfast, I just want to stay in," he sighed finally trying to wake up a little.

"Please?" You asked again, "I want you to teach me how to make pancakes."

"You want to cook?" He looked visibly taken back. This is not how your last conversation on cooking went. You nodded your head laughing a little at how clearly confused he seemed.

You see. You weren't always a brat. You were sweet and gentle after you got what you wanted. And he'll always give it to you even if he makes you work for it. He smirked pointing at his cheek, "Give me a kiss here and I'll be up."

Doing one better, you kissed him softly on the lips making his heart race. Oh god you were hot and cute at the same time. He can already tell his future with you would be exciting, and now he has someone to introduce his grandparents to.

"Okay let's go shower."

::.

this is 100% Tae in the first car scene after the banquet when he told Y/n no

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sapphicmsmarvel · 11 days

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Modern!Azriel: "too much"

lol i’m projecting in this one. this is how my extended family has always made me feel so 🤷🏻‍♀️

tw: not eating due to anxiety.

-You kept Azriel hidden from your extended family for three years.

-You truly did not have much association with them. They were kind but not loving towards you.

-Your parents knew of him as well as the two cousins you were closest with that actually loved you.

-About a year in, you and Azriel had the talk about your extended family.

At first, Azriel was kind of hurt by it. He brought you around his family. His chosen and blood when he had to.

-Your first major argument was about you keeping him away from your family.

“Are you embarrassed by me?” His voice cracked.

“What? No! This isn’t about you, Azriel.” You sighed.

“Then what is it? Are you freaking out about commitment to something?”

“I just don’t want to bring you around them!” You cried.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You crossed your arms.

“Yes it does! Clearly something is bothering you. I cannot rest until I know what it is, Y/N.” He sighed. “I feel like I’m back in high school and my girlfriend is embarrassed to be seen with me.”

That’s when your tears broke. You didn’t cry often. It took a while before you felt safe enough to do so in front of him.

“I just…” You wiped your eyes and sniffed. “I’m really scared to bring you around them because I don’t want one of the few good things in my life to be tainted by them.”

His silence spurred you on. “I don’t want you to be chased away.”

“Baby,” He sighed. He walked to where you were in the dining room and leaned against the table in front of you. His legs spread, he put his hands on that plush waist he loves so much, and pulled you towards him. “I don’t want to push you, I’m sorry my insecurity got the better of me. But, you do see where I'm coming from, yes?”

You sniffed and nodded, “I’d feel the same. I’m sorry I didn’t communicate properly.”

“You were scared.” He justified it for you.

“So were you a few minutes ago.” You nudged his shoulder. “If you’re going to validate me, I'm going to validate you.”

“Two people pleasers in a relationship huh?” He chuckled.

“That’s why we’re working on communication.” You brought your hands up to his broad shoulders. “Can we talk about this tonight? I just need to organize my thoughts a bit before….” You struggled to find the right words. “Ugh let me start over.” You sighed.

He couldn’t help his smile, his girl was trying so hard. “I want to be able to eloquently tell you what's going on. It’s not you, it’s not even me, well kind of since I’m not letting you around them. But, they are a big issue.”

“Okay, I’ll order our favorite takeout and we can talk about it when we’re eating. Is 20 minutes enough to help you get your thoughts together?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, he wasn’t judging you. He was accepting you. Your neurodivergency and the way your mind worked. He kissed your forehead and went off to order the food. He knew your order by heart.

-So when you guys got your food, you began to tell the story. How you were never “one of them” despite growing up with them. You were always left out and kids were mean. Then you came out as queer, which didn’t help being left out. Everyone looked at you weird.

He knew better than anyone how it felt to be left out and hurt by your blood relatives. Granted, completely different situations however both are valid situations.

He assured you he wasn’t upset at you, he was upset for you. He then told you how he would wait patiently. A couple of times, you almost got enough courage to do it. But then chickened out and just stayed home with him. You never went to those gatherings without someone. To be frank, you preferred Azriel’s company.

-So when you finally took the plunge it was terrifying.

-It was your aunt's birthday, a week before thanksgiving. You told them about him, they were all shocked to say the least that you had a partner and had had one for three years.

-Then you got the normal guilt trip of “why didn’t you say something sooner?” or “why didn’t you bring him”

-Not “what’d i do to make you feel unsafe telling me this?” But that’s besides the point.

-So the next week, you brought him to thanksgiving.

-Your family was shocked to say the least.

-That the loudest, vulgar, weird person in their family got the quietest, kindest man.

-Azriel knew how you felt about this part of the family. You had always felt left out, like you weren’t good enough. You were ostracized as a child from them because you were different.

-You were the only cousin that wasn’t baptized. Which made you different enough. But you’d rather think for yourself and your parents raised you without religion so you could choose your own path.

-You cussed, you had tattoos, piercings. You wore clothes you were comfortable in which meant yeah, sometimes you wore a tank top that showed a bit of boobs. You wore all black as well. Also you were the plus size family member and you were queer. So that didn’t help the “fitting in” aspect.

-He wore a nice black henley and black jeans. As well as his boots. He wanted to make a nice impression even though you told him that he could show up naked and you wouldn’t care.

-He would. He wasn’t modest but he’d rather not have his future in-laws seeing his ‘monster cock’ as you called it.

-God, he genuinely loved your vulgarity.

-He knew how nervous you were, he knew you’d barely eat anything just because of sheer anxiety. His goal was to make sure you ate some appetizers or something.

-When you walked in, you could tell your family was just floored by him. He greeted everyone with the proper “Mr.” and “Mrs/Ms/Miss.” He shook everyone's hands, smiled at your baby cousins who knew nothing of the strange man but were comfortable enough to wave at him.

The entire time, he had a hand on your waist. Showing he’s on your side.

-You warned him that your family was going to eventually get him alone to talk to him about you to which he responded with “let them.”

They weren’t pissing him off too much. He didn’t like the way some of them were around you. Like you were someone to avoid. When he knew that you were the safest person in the room to any stranger, let alone him.

”I’m sure sometimes she can be overwhelming.” Your aunt said as if it was a fun little tidbit. But he knew it was a jab.

If smiles could kill, Azriel’s could’ve maimed her. “Actually she’s perfect.” He let his guard down enough to look at you across the room with your cousins, a lovestruck look on his face. “If she’d let me, I’d marry her tomorrow.”

Your family was clearly surprised. You had never brought anyone around and now you bring this guy for the first time and he’s ready to marry you?

-Throughout the day, he kept trying to get you to come out of your shell a bit.

-When he made you snort in laughter, he let out his first real smile all day. Let these assholes see how happy you make him.

-Then he noticed your elderly family member glaring at your tattoos. She was caught by Azriel and had the decency to have a look on her face like “can you blame me?” To which he smiled and rolled up his sleeves to show off his ink.

She had the decency to look embarrassed.

-Your family quickly began to see a real side of you. One that’s comfortable in her space enough to lean on someone. That someone was Azriel.

-Shortly after the meal, you two left. Claiming you had to go to Azriel’s mothers. They didn’t need to know that you had thanksgiving with her and the whole chosen family the day before.

-You were finally able to relax when the door shut to the car. You two began the drive back home to the city.

-You snuggled into him over the center console. Your arm wrapped around his bicep as he drove. You sighed, completely content and he kissed your temple while keeping his eyes on the road.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“What for?”

“Just…loving me as I am.”

“You should not feel the need to thank me for that.” He said.

“Well I am. So deal with it.” You huffed, but you kissed his arm through his shirt. “You’re never embarrassed of me, you take me in stride and love me as if I’m…” You trailed off. “Irreplaceable.”

“You are.” He said so earnestly that you almost weeped. You squeezed him tighter. “You make me feel so happy, so….loved. I’ve never felt so loved. Those people are fools for not seeing how incredible you are.”

You felt your eyes getting misty. “You’re so getting head tonight.” You whispered.

He let out a loud, sharp laugh of surprise. Yeah, he was in it forever.

#acotar x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader fluff

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 3 months

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DRABBLE: THEY’RE YOUR BLIND V-DAY DATE ❤️🍷💕 (CROSSOVER ANIME) (18+) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: Got another something for V-Day for y’all. I decided to do one for multiple anime characters cuz I’m a slut for all them 2D characters & couldn’t decide on one specific show lol. Plus it sounded fun! And important disclaimers I’ll just make a note of before the actual Drabble. I hope y’all enjoy! ☺️🥰 -Jazz

********

LEVI ACKERMAN (AOT)

The first night, you’re nervous, to say the least, especially when Hange warns you about his appearance.

“Why?” you had asked over margaritas and tacos, already perplexed and slightly unnerved by her warning. “Is he really ugly or something?”

Hange, sitting across from you in her glasses with her locks of long, chestnut brown hair cascading down her shoulders, shook her head. “No, no, my dear!” she immediately protested. “He’s actually quite handsome despite the broody thing. But he does have some scars from a mission gone wrong at his job and he’s blind in one eye.” She took a sip of her margarita as if to soften the next blow. “And he’s missing a leg,” she finished.

You were taken aback to say the least, but you didn’t let that stop you. You aren’t prejudice and you refused to let that stop you from at least giving Hange’s friend a chance. Apparently, Levi has been a firefighter for a couple of years and has recently broken up with a longtime girlfriend, so Hange figured he could get back into the dating pool and realize that there are great girls out there starting with you!

So the weekend of Valentine’s Day, Hange texts you the name of the restaurant and you take an Uber there after spending the entire day doing your hair, picking out an outfit, and giving yourself a makeover. You decided on a soft glam look as this is the first time you’re meeting the guy and a pretty, red dress that hugs your frame and zips in the back.

When you get of the Uber in front of the quaint and low-key yet romantic restaurant, you take a table near the doo so it’ll be easier to see Levi walk in and flag him down. You still have no idea what he looks like, only that he’ll be wearing a black trench coat, he’s tall, and he has a large scar going over his eye. “His team calls him Scar, apparently,” Hange laughed. “It helps that he has a smooth, deep voice too!”

You admit that you were curious to see him and hear that “smooth, deep” voice she told you about. So you sit and order a glass of wine, waiting for his arrival as you stare out at the passing cars and people…only he never comes. You wait and you wait and you wait, but he never shows his face. You call Hange, thinking maybe you have the wrong restaurant or time or day, but all is correct. You think that maybe he’s in traffic or something came up, but Hange never calls to tell you either.

When your appetizer comes and the candle sitting in the middle of the table begins to melt, you feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You’ve been stood up. The realization hits you like a brick to the face. Quickly, you order the check and a box for your food pay the waiter before running out of the restaurant in tears. You feel stupid. Wasteful. Foolish in your pretty dress and heels.

Hange comes over to see you with the quickness when you tell her that night, ice cream and face masks in tow. “I can’t believe him!” she says, enraged, with a sheet mask on her face. “He told me he’d be there and then he doesn’t show up? Who does he think he is? Why, I’m gonna give that man a piece of my–“

“Don’t Hange,” you sigh, shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. “Just leave it be. He probably just changed his mind or wasn’t ready.” You are ready to move on and forget it, but the universe doesn’t let you. A week later while at work of all places, you get an unknown call. Thinking it’s one of those scammers, you give a sharp “hello”.

“Uh…hi,” a smooth, deep, velvety voice replies. “This is Levi, Hange’s friend. This is Y/N, correct?” You heart drops into your ass and it takes a moment for you to reply. “Uh, y-yeah,” you answer. “Yeah, this is her. You’re Hange’s friend? Did you get my number from her?”

“I had to,” Levi replies, his voice making your stomach do flips. “I’m sorry if that’s weird, but I just…” He pauses, sighing. “I had to talk to you,” he finishes, sounding completely beaten. “I’m so sorry for not coming last week. I was so afraid for you to see me because of my appearance. I was so sure you'd find me unattractive and not like what you see. I’m very insecure in that and I let it get the best of me, but that doesn’t mean you deserved that. Hange already went up my ass about it.”

You softly giggle, knowing she would. "So, if you don’t despise me too much and you’re willing, can we meet up for dinner this Friday night if you’re free?” He sounds hopeful and slightly afraid. You don’t know why you say yes, but you do and you make plans to meet for ramen on Friday. When the day comes, you wear a more casual outfit–-a pretty cashmere sweater, jeans, and some boots––but still style your hair and makeup to look presentable. ‘Second time’s a charm, I guess,’ you think.

It’s a dry, cool night so you wait outside the restaurant for Levi to arrive, texting him that you’re there prior to your arrival. Ten minutes into waiting, you think he isn’t going to show and that he duped you again, but then your phone rings. Your heart leaps at the sight of his caller ID and you answer. “Hello?” you answer, noticing how breathless you sound.

“Look up,” Levi says and you do, seeing him standing before you across the street under a streetlight. The soft light illuminates his features: a sharp jawline and cheekbones, soft, pale skin, one eye the color of a gray ocean, and the other milky where a long scar runs from his eyebrow to his cheek. He walks towards you slowly, his hand on his left leg where his prosthetic is, and finally makes it over to you. He is extremely attractive and smells like toasted vanilla. “You’re Y/N, I take it?” he asks, a small smile on his face.

“And you’re Levi,” you reply, your heart battering against your ribcage. He gives a slight nod, his one eye roaming over your frame. “My God, you’re stunning,” he chuckles as if he can hardly believe it. “Even more than that the first night. I had come, but I never went into the restaurant. I was so intimidated by the way you looked that I just–“

“Stop,” you interrupt, not liking the thought of him standing outside looking into the restaurant window at you, feeling so horrible about his looks. “That was then and this is now. And you’re wrong, by the way.” One of Levi’s eyebrow raises in confusion. “I do like what I see,” you say, your voice soft and shy. “Fo the record, you’re one of the sexiest guys I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

The laugh Levi lets out just about fills you with joy and you just about melt before he holds the door for you to enter the restaurant, not so discreetly staring at your ass as he does.

NANAMI KENTO (JJK)

He’s a professor and he’s a blonde is what you’re told by Gojo…but that’s about all he tells you, the asshole.

“You’re asking me to go on a date with a dude I don’t even know and you won’t even tell me what he looks like?” You’re sitting with him at brunch with bottomless mimosas when he runs it by you. You get the feeling he just invited you out with the promise of mimosas, good omelettes, and paying just to toss this at you.

Gojo gives you his big, gigawatt smile as he sits across from you wearing his usual shades. “Trust me, babe! He’s a good and attractive guy! If I wasn’t taken, I’d fuck him myself.” He snorts to himself, shoveling some eggs into his mouth. “But I don’t even think I’m his type.”

From what you gathered at the start of brunch, Kento Nanami is Gojo’s very stoic, very introverted, very lonely friend who is need of a date this upcoming Valentine’s Day. Though intelligent and handsome, Nanami isn’t too good with women and hasn’t been in a romantic relationship is quite some time. “I swear, he’s not an incel,” Gojo swears, one hand on his heart and the other held high. “He loves women! He’s just…awkward.”

You aren’t sure if you like that answer. “What if I meet him and I don’t like him?” you ask, taking a break for you mimosa. “I mean, I’m only agreeing to this because you said you’d pay me.” And Gojo did. He figures you’re the perfect girl––smart, pretty, and funny––to bring Nanami out of his shell. “$50,” he sing-songs. “And if you hate his guts, you'll get another $50, I promise. But give him a chance, Y/N! He needs it!”

To not hear him whine and beg, you roll your eyes and agree. Gojo arranges for you to meet with Nanami at a winter light show in the park that is done every year. It’s the perfect place to meet since it’s romantic and very populated. You dress in your warmest and cutest coat before hurrying to meet Nanami, your boots crunching in the snow. The park is decorated in twinkling lights that line the trees, walkways, and fountains.

You’re so enchanted by the lights that you barely see the slick of ice lining the sidewalk. You misstep and your left foot goes skidding. “Oh, shit!” you gasp as you fall, but you don't feel the ground or the cold snow. You don’t feel anything at all except two warm, strong arms wrapped around you. You look up into the warm eyes of an older man. An older, extremely attractive man with a blonde undercut and wearing a tan wool coat. “Are you alright, miss?” he worriedly asks. His voice is deep yet warm and sweet like honey. You’re so taken by the stranger than you barely notice that he has set you upright. “Um…yeah,” you answer albeit softly.

You blink at him, noticing how tall and well-built he is behind his coat. His hands are strong and capable and you find yourself staring at them even when he shoves them into his pocket. “Nanami?” you hesitantly question. You watch his darker blonde brows furrow in confusion then rise in realization. “You’re Y/N,” he realizes. “Forgive me. Gojo didn’t tell me what you’d look up or what you’d be wearing.”

You think you see his eyes trailing over you, but you can’t focus on it for too long. “That’s okay,” you laugh. “That’s Gojo, for you. How do you know him?” Nanami begins to walk with you to the line at the entrance gate to enter the event, keeping the same slow pace as you. “We went to the same high school and remained friends ever since. How did you meet him?”

“We met through a mutual friend and just clicked,” you explain. “Her name is Shoko.” Recognition crosses Nanami’s face at the name. “Shoko?” he asks, a light flickering in his eyes. “I know her as well. We all went to the same school.”

“What a coincidence!” you giggle, glad to have something to break the ice (other than your fall). “Thank you again for helping me. I know I’m dumb for wearing these things in the snow.” You nod down at your heeled boots to which Nanami only stares at, never smiling. His expression is unreadable and slightly intimidating. But you can tell it’s just awkwardness. Now you see what Gojo meant.

But rather than be unnerved by it, you find yourself wanting to break through it. You want to get to the warm core of this man. “Um…should we walk?” you ask, nodding at the entrance gate. Nanami nods, but looks slightly worried. “Will you be alright?” he asks, still staring at your feet. “You may want to hold onto me.” He offers you his arm, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks that one could pass off for the cold. Your heart leaps at the chance to touch him, even be near him.

“What a gentleman,” you chuckle. “I didn't think chivalry still existed.” You take his coat sleeve and let him lead you through the entrance into the park’s first trail. A chuckle that makes your stomach flip and your pussy leap leaves Nanami’s mouth. “I wouldn’t say all of that, but thank you. I would just think I’m being a good human being. So Gojo told me about your job. What is that like?”

The park is truly beautiful, decorated head to toe with lights that twinkle and dance. But you’re not focusing on the lights; just Nanami and his conversation. For such a stoic guy, he can really hold a conversation. He tells you all about his job as a professor and his students; what subjects he likes; his life outside of work. He asks you about you and all of your habits, hobbies, and joys. He listens intently, putting them all in his brain’s filing cabinet. You find similarities about each other, including favorite books, movies, and your love for the beach.

The date lasts for an hour and you enjoy every minute of it. You like being around Nanami, enjoying his stale humor and shy smile. More than anything, you like his presence. You like how soft his wool coat feels under your finger. You like how he keeps his arm at reach, even when you release him at times. You like how he keeps the same pace as you, never walking too fast and always straying at your side, his black leather shoes tapping against the concrete. You’re feeling him and you want to let him know that when you finally reach the end of the park where the last attraction, an ice sculptor decorated in lights, stands.

“Wow,” you sigh. “So pretty.”

Nanami stands next to you as you stare up in awe at the attraction. “Yes,” he agrees, though he isn’t looking at the lights. His attention is solely on you. He likes the way the lights illuminate your skin that contrasts with his. He likes the brown of your eyes, so warm and tempting like chocolate. He likes your humor and sweet laugh. He likes you and he isn’t too shy to show it. You can see it when you turn and find him already staring at you, bold and heated.

He is sexy. He is alluring. And you want him. “Nanami?” you shyly ask. His eyebrows raise, acknowledging your question. You turn to him fully and stare up at him through you lashes. “I don’t usually do this, but…would you want to come home with me?” He is silent, staring at you wordlessly, and your stomach flip with discomfort. “For coffee, maybe?” you add.

Nanami doesn’t have to be asked again. To end such a perfect date, you find yourself on your back with Nanami on top of you, looking so handsome above you as he pounds your pussy into the mattress. His big hands pin your thighs apart and up to his broad shoulders, your painted toes and skin contrasting deliciously with his lighter skin. “So pretty,” he groans. “You were the prettiest thing there tonight. Fuck, darling, you’re so tight!”

He thrusts into you harder, faster, making the bed squeak and you lose your voice from how loud you moan. You can feel yourself about to cum after so much foreplay and stimulation (Nanami is a gentle lover). “Kento!” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “I’m gonna cum! Please…please cum with me!”

And he does. At the sound of you begging, he bursts inside of you with a ragged groan as you cum all over his big cock, your pussy walls squeezing around him and stroking his shaft. As you do, his lips find yours, giving you a passionate kiss that could melt the ice with how hot it is.

NICO ROBIN (One Piece)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized!

Nami swore up and down that you needed to go on a date for Valentine’s Day to forget about your short-term “situationship”.

“Just give a chance, Y/N,” she said to you over ramen. She treated you to lunch at the best ramen place in town while you were on your work break. “It’s just for one night and I can’t stand the thought of my best friend alone on Valentine’s Day! And she’s a great girl, seriously!”

You looked down at your bowl of ramen, feeling hot under your sweater dress that clung to your plump body. The idea of a blind date didn’t appeal to you much, especially being such a big girl. Usually, when people got a look at you, they either ghosted you after the first date or didn’t give you the time of day. Why did she think this was a good idea?

“Just be careful,” Zoro said, shoveling spicy miso ramen into his mouth. “She’ll charm the pants off of you…or skirt…whatever you’ll be wearing.” Nami smacked him on the the arm hard, making the green-haired hunk hiss in pain. “Don’t listen to him, honey. Robin is just a sweet-talker. You have nothing to worry about!”

But when you finally get a look at your date, you don’t think that’s true. Nami set the date up at a high-scale bar where the working class and hotshot businessmen come for happy hour. When you walk in, you immediately feel self-conscious despite looking oh-so yummy in your waistband coat that flares around your waist and pink dress that makes your skin and brown eyes pop. But the dress also sticks to your body, accentuating each curve, ripple, and roll. Though your stomach ripples with nerves, you also feel slightly confident catching eyes under the warm lights above.

You sit at the sleek bar and order yourself a cocktail to loosen up a bit more while you search for your date at the door. Nami only told you that she’s “tall with long black hair and might be wearing purple”. You’re curious as to what this girl is like and if she likes what she sees. You sip on your cocktail and scroll through your phone for a couple of minutes, completely unaware of the eyes you have captured from down at the bar.

When you turn around in your stool to place your glass down, you find another cocktail sitting behind you. Confused, you flag down the bartender. “I didn’t order this,” you tell him, pushing the glass towards him. “It was sent to you,” he explains. “From down at the bar.” You look in that direction, but find no one paying any attention to you. “But I have a date,” you protest. “I can't accept this.”

“That’s correct,” a sweet yet smooth and sultry voice purrs behind you, “and it’s usually rude to deny a drink from her.” The voice causes your body to react instantly: the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; your heart pounds in your chest; your stomach flips. You turn and see your blind date standing behind you in the flesh.

Beautiful isn’t a word to use for Robin. She is absolutely stunning. A straight vixen oozing confidence and poise as she stands behind you in a purple cocktail dress that illuminates her soft, pale skin and blue eyes that steal the air from your lungs. She tall and slender with piano fingers painted in a dark rouge that you want to feel wrapped around your body, but has a rack that can stop traffic and is definitely catching eyes. Her long, shiny, black locks of hair cascade down her slender shoulders, catching the light above. You are in awe of her and her beauty as are the others in the bar.

“Y/N?” she asks in her alluring voice. Wordlessly, you nod and close your mouth to avoid looking like an idiot. “I’m Nico Robin, Nami’s friend. She’s told me so much about you.” She puts a slender hand out to shake yours, giving you a whiff of her luxurious-smelling perfume and a peek of golden Tiffany bracelet.

You put your hand in hers, feeling warm from her touch. “N-Nice to meet you,” you stutter. “Please, have a seat. Do you want a drink?” Robin raises her brows questionably as she settles onto a stool next to you. You flush under the lights, thanking God that he made you Black. “It’s only right since you ordered me one.”

Robin smiles, her pearly whites and dimples making you damn near melt. “How sweet of you,” she giggles. She orders herself a dirty Martini with extra olives and thanks you again when it comes. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I got caught up in some work.” She slowly crosses her soft, long, milky legs over one another. You do your best not to stare.

You give her a smile, pretending that you’re not turned the fuck on by her, and lean your elbow against your chin. “So you’re an archaeologist, right? That’s such an interesting job.” She smiles at the compliment and at the mention of her career as you sip your cocktail. “Well, I’ve always been attracted to history since I was young. I’m attracted to intelligence too, which you seem to have a lot of.” Her smile turns flirty and now you know what Zoro was talking about. You’re already charmed by her. “Tell me: what’s your job like?” she asks.

Your conversations last for hours and flow perfectly, especially after you get your second drinks in you. You tell her about your job and quietly gush over her curiosity and awe, realizing how much she loves learning. You talk about everything, from city life to books to anime, learning that you both love magical girl anime, especially Sailor Moon. You didn't expect that from Robin because of how poised she is and her love for dark colors, but as soon as you mention Sailor Moon, her eyes widen in excitement. “I love Sailor Moon!” She laughs. “I cosplayed as Sailor Mars two Halloweens ago. I bet you’d look so pretty as a Sailor Scout, especially with the skirt.”

That’s another thing you learn about Robin: she’s a flirt. She sneaks in little sly compliments to obviously make you flustered…and it’s working. You try to do the same, complimenting her on her outfit and her smile. “I can see why everyone is so fond of you in here,” you say, nodding at the group of businessmen playing pool that are not so discreetly staring at you both from across the room. Robin giggles, turning back to you with a hooded gaze. “Too bad,” she sighs, not at all sounding disappointed. “I’m here with you.”

As the night goes on, it gets looser as you both become more comfortable with each other. You talk about everything and anything, telling each other funny stories and showing pictures of your pets. “You’re a dog mom too?” you coo, gushing over her wallpaper of her and a fluffy, brown animal dressed as Santa Claus though he has pointed ears and horns. “Reindeer mom,” she corrects you and titters at your confusion. “It’s a long story, but that’s my perfect little boy. His name is Chopper.”

Other than Robin being a sweet-talker as Nami said, you also find out many other things about this alluring, attractive woman. Like how much she loves plays and Disney movies, becoming so excited when you ask her about her favorite films. “I love musicals,” she shyly says, an endearing blush on her face. “Can you tell I’m a secret theatre kid?” Or how she tends to ramble about information she’s obtained from books and documentaries about tribes long gone and age-old urban legends. You could listen to her talk for hours. Unbeknownst to you, she feels the same about you whenever you speak about yourself and your interests.

As the alcohol takes its affect on you both, she also tells you that she’s a devil fruit user, a term you’ve heard before since many in the world are, including your mutual friend Luffy. When you ask her about her ability, she just winks behind her third martini glass. “A woman never draws all of her cards…not all at once, anyway.”

As the night draws on, so do the drinks and soon, you’re feeling loose and bold. You decide to show her your hidden talent which is rolling your eyes to the right and the left. “I can wiggle my ears too,” you say, showing her much to her amusement. She applauds you, giggling at your talent. “My, you’re full of surprises,” she giggles. “And so am I.”

You suddenly feel something tickling your sides and look down to see two disembodied hands tickling you. Robin’s hands. You look at her in shock as she retracts her extra arms, using them to grab her third martini and take a sip. “The perks of being a devil fruit user,” she chuckles. At the sight of your expression, she grows concerned. “Do they frighten you?”

“No,” you answer honestly. “They’re…” You stare at her extra hands, wondering how many more she has and how they would feel on your body. “Pretty,” you decide to answer with. That is enough for Robin to decide what she wants from you tonight.

So when you’re both still sitting there when the bar is emptying out, she makes it known. “Oh, dear,” she sighs, exhaling in disappointment as the bartenders clean and the drunk crowd empties out. “It appears that our date has become to an end.” She turns to you, placing a warm hand on yours. “I really enjoyed meeting you, Y/N,” she says, a smile on her face that makes you ache.

You don’t want tonight to end. You don’t want her to go. You need more of her touch. She seems to understand and see the mutual disappointment in your eyes because she doesn’t release your hand. “Unless you want this night to continue,” she adds, her voice like honey in your ears. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very attracted to you too, unless I’m mistaking the chemistry.” You can’t speak, so you shake your head and her eyes twinkle. She leans in toward you, engulfing you in her scent. “Just say the words and I’ll go with you,” she whispers into your ear.

Desire overwhelms you and you squeeze her hand, interlacing your fingers. “I’ll call a Lyft,” you exhale. Robin smiles, keeping her hand in yours.

She doesn’t let go even hours later when your fingers are interlaced with each others’ while your legs are pined open by her extra hands on the bed. Your moans and whimpers fill the darkness of your bedroom as she moves her tongue against your clit, moaning eagerly and sloppily into your pussy as she eats you like there is no tomorrow. “Now I can really show you how good I am with my hands,” she giggles, looking up at you between your thighs. “You’re so cute like this, pretty girl.”

You can feel that knot in your core tightening the more she moves her jaw, going faster and faster until you have no choice. “Robin,” you whine. “I'm gonna…gonna…!” Your back arches and your legs shake around Robin’s face.

Her hold on you tightens, her hands gripping your thighs.“Cum for me, gorgeous,” she hums. “I’ve got you. Cum all over my face like a good girl.” One thing is for sure while you gush around Robin’s face, loving how she eagerly laps up everything you give her: another date is definitely in the future for you and her.

PRO!KATSUKI BAKUGOU & KIRISHIMA EJIROU (BHNA)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized & a bimbo!

*Disclaimer: Bakugou & Kiri are both aged-up (over the age of 18) in this drabble!

You don’t know why you agreed to do this blind date thing, but your friend put you up to it after she reminded you of your NY resolution to try new things to help yourself.

“You need to put yourself out there more, girl!” she argued over the phone with you. “Do you see how hot you are?! You deserve to have someone on your arm!” You pouted as you painted your toe nails a pretty bubblegum pink, your feet hanging over you bathtub smelling like vanilla bubblebath.

Though she is right about you deserving a nice guy to tell you how pretty you are, most of the guys you dated either used you as arm candy, hit in then quit it, or just stopped talking to you because of your, uh…bimbo-ness. You know you have no filter and sometimes you do come off as dumb, but you’re trying your best! And you’re kind and the sweetest person anyone will ever meet! Isn’t that enough?

“Yeah, but a blind date though?” you complained into the phone sitting on your sink. “How am I gonna go on a date if I can’t see, girl?” You gasped, even more mortified. “Or will my date be blind?! How will be able to see me and my cute outfit?!”

Your friend just laughed. She knows you’re not the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re just too cute and sweet. “Honey, no! A blind date is when you meet someone you’ve never seen or met before. Someone else sets the date up for you.” Your heart resumed its normal pattern and you relaxed into the water. “Ohhh,” you realized with a giggle. “Well, if you’re setting it up, can you tell me anything about him?”

Your friend refused, much to your dismay. “Nope, but you’ll meet him later this week. Saturday night at 7 PM, don’t be late. I’ll give you all the details before then.” You hung up, a bit nervous but excited, already picturing your outfit for the day.

The Saturday of Valentine’s Day weekend, you go to the cafe your friend tells you to go to which is only a few blocks from your apartment. You dress in a pink sweater that does nothing to hide your voluptuous bosom and a pretty, cherry red skit that hugs your tummy and voluptuous ass, the damn thing so short that the ruffles stop mid-thigh, a sliver of your asscheeks seen whenever you bend over. You pair your V-Day outfit with some warm stockings and high black boots before putting on your favorite fluffy, pink coat.

An hour later after putting on some vanilla-scented body spray and giving your lips a slick of your favorite Fenty Gloss in a sparkly pink, you stand in line to order your food, hoping that will ease your nerves over today. Because your friend loves you so much, she set you up for two dates today: one at the cafe and the other later tonight at your favorite bar.

Your first date is a redheaded hunk, according to your friend. “He’s got red hair and he’s a fucking giant,” she giggles. “And he’s SUPER fine. You’ll know him when see him.” You melted at the details. “I do like big guys,” you sigh dreamily. Your second date is just as fine, but a hothead. “My friend works with him at his agency and apparently, he’s got a mouth.” Your friend rolled her eyes. "The dude is like a pit bull, but he's so fucking sexy.”

“I’m a little nervous though,” you mumbled, starting to feel insecure. “You think he’ll like me?” Your friend looked at you like you were insane, making you laugh. “Who wouldn’t? You’re adorable!”

And you feel adorable when you go next to the counter and the cashier’s eyes shoots straight to your tits. You don’t notice, too busy feening for some sweet, sugar coffee. “Hi, can I please get a peppermint mocha latte with two pumps of caramel, please?” You are so damn cute that the guy blushes and quickly rings you up. You pay and thank him when you get your drink before walking off, but stop when something captures you.

There, hidden behind a glass container behind the counter, are a bunch of seasonal-flavored doughnuts lined up in a row. Your eyes immediately go for the one coated in pink frosting, powdered sugar, and red and pink sprinkles. “Oooh,” you coo to yourself. “So pretty.”

“Agreed,” says a raspy, sexy voice from behind you. You turn a little too quickly and a bit of coffee sloshes over the top of your drink and onto the crotch of the guy standing behind you. “Oops, I’m so sorry!” you gasp. “I didn’t even see you! Oh, it’s gonna stain! Here, quick!” You quickly reach for a wad of napkins and begin to dab at the man’s crotch, not even realizing how it looks.

Still not even bothering to look up, the blonde furiously blushes while the redhead behind him stifles a laugh. “That’s quite okay,” he chuckles. “At least now he smells like peppermint down there.” The blonde growls like he wants to commit murder. “Plus, Katsuki was standing way too close to you in line, weren’t you, ‘Suki?”

You hand the napkins over to the blonde, hyper focused on the nickname. “‘Suki,” you giggle. “That’s such a cute…” Your words die in you that when you finally, finally, look up into the eyes of the two finest, sexiest men you’ve ever seen in your life. One of them has long, red hair cascading down his broad shoulders, fanged teeth that flash at you as he smiles, friendly, crimson eyes, and piercings––dangling from his ears, embedded in his eyebrow, and snakebites in his bottom lip. The other sports a platinum blonde undercut and a scowl that slightly softens at the sight of you. He, too, has crimson eyes that widen at your pretty face and outfit and one piercing in his plump bottom lip. The only things similar about the duo are how tall, buff, and sexy they both are. “Name,” you weakly finish. “I-I’m Y/N.”

The redhead grins, putting his big ass hand out for a shake. “Ejirou,” he says, “but my friends call me Kiri.” You do so, noticing how calloused his palm is and how much his sweater stretches against his pecs. The blonde has the same issue, his V-neck shirt way too tight for his toned body. “Bakugou,” he grumbles, giving you an intense stare that makes you melt on the inside.

Those gears in your head start turning and you gape at the duo. “Wait…I know you two!” you gasp. “You guys are those superheroes, right? Dynamight and Red Riot!” Kiri tosses his head back and laughs while Bakugou glares daggers at you. “Damn, could you be any louder?” he growls. You cover your mouth, flushing with embossment. “Sorry!” you whisper. "I’m just a big fan of you two! I almost didn’t recognize you in normal clothes. I have your posters and all of your merch!”

Kiri gives Bakugou a look that he would seeing a cat do something cute. And that is what you are: a cute little kitty. Something adorable and sweet yet you have a sexiness to you that both men are coming to find. “Well, it's always a pleasure to meet a fan. Especially such a cute one.” He grins at the way you giggle bashfully. “I’m guessing you’re a fan of sweets? Me too. I was actually planning on getting one of those for my boyfriend, my date, and I.”

You notice Kiri gaze at Bakugou when he says “my boyfriend” and you quietly gush to yourself. “Oh, you two are dating?” you coo, much to Bakugou’s dismay. He’s so cute when he blushes! “That’s so sweet! Here, I’ll treat you guys to ‘em to make up for that nasty spill.”

Kiri is just about ready to scoop you up and take you home with them when you dig into your bag for your Hello Kitty wallet. “Well, isn’t that sweet? You up for somethin’ sweet, Katsuki?”

Though Bakugou feels the same way, he still wants to feel you out and see if this “bimbo-esque” personality you’ve got going on is a fake. “It’s whatever,” he grumbles. “But you’d better get me the chocolate one. I don’t want the one with all of those sprinkles and shit on it.” You vigorously nod, taking out some cash. “You got it!” you giggle and hand them the cash. After getting back in line, Kiri orders one chocolate and two strawberry donuts and his and Bakugou’s drinks.

You thank the cashier when she hands you each pastry individually wrapped in a paper bag, nice, warm, and toasty from the oven. You turn to the pros and hand them the treats. “Here you guys go,” you sweetly say. Bakugou grumbles as he takes his while Kiri gives you a big gigawatt grin. “Thanks, cutie,” he chuckles. You expect them to start eating them, but you’re shocked when Bakugou hands one of the strawberry ones to you.

You freeze, confused. “But…this is for your date,” you say, completely clueless. “Aren’t you gonna give it to them?” Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose like a dad with a dumbass child. “Oh, my God,” he groans. Kiri thinks it’s endearingly hilarious, holding his stomach as he laughs. “You are our date, silly girl!” he giggles. “Well, mine, technically. Your friend set us up to have dates with you at different times today, but we both just came together since we’re dating. I hope that’s cool.”

You gape at them, wondering if they’re serious. Two of the hottest pros on a date with you? At the same time?! You just about squeal with excitement. “Sure!” you giggle, your heart leaping for joy. “The more, the better! Let’s go sit down so we can get to know each other more.”

The two are happy to oblige. Kiri picks out a table in the back that is more secluded and near the window for the sights. Before you sit, you turn to Katsuki with an apologetic pout. “I’m sorry again about the spill, Bakugou.”

The blonde cuts his eyes at you and you can't tell what he’s thinking due to how permanent his scowl is. But that changes when he pulls your chair out for you. “Katsuki,” he replies. “And stop mentionin’ it. Besides, I know some other way you can make up for it later…maybe with your number.” He gives you a lopsided smirk that makes you tingle between your thighs.

“Chill,” Kiri cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Sorry about him. We don’t usually flirt too hard on the first date…but you’re just too cute to resist.” He boldly looks you up and down, tugging lightly on his bottom lip. You wonder what else he can do with his mouth as the cafe’s atmosphere becomes more tense between the three of you. “Well, I could say the same about you two,” you purr, a shy giggle leaving your lips.

That’s what the duo want to hear. Bakugou’s smirk widens, a twinkle in his vermillion eyes. “Glad the feelin’ is mutual, mama,” he whispers. “So you sittin’ or what? My fuckin’ coffee’s gettin’ cold.” You do so and you never want the date to end…unless it’s to spend more time with them in private.

NICHOLAS "NICO" BROWN (GANGSTA!)

You stand outside of a jazz club one chilly night, watching the passersby and wondering which one may be your blind date.

Worick told you all about his friend, Nico, but you’ve never met him before. You only know that the two work together and have known each other since childhood. You’ve only known Worick for two years after he helped you out of a messy financial situation with your asshole ex-boyfriend who, according to Worick, nearly shat himself when Worick threatened to bring Nico in to handle things. Apparently, Nico is well known throughout the town for being an extremely threatening and intimidating figure.

Why in the fuck would Worick want to set you up with someone like that? “He’s a cool dude, really!” he assured you over coffee. “Just…quiet. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s deaf. He’s just a quiet guy; a little awkward; introverted…”

‘Not to mention threatening and intimidating,’ you thought to yourself. “And you thought I was just perfect for this guy?” you scoffed. “What will we even talk about? How can I talk to him if he’s so quiet?”

“If you ask him something, he’ll answer you,” the handsome blonde replied. “And don’t worry too much about signing. He can read lips, but just make sure you slow down with your words.” Though Worick knows you know sign language due to your father being deaf since you were an infant. He can tell you’re still hesitant to say yes and folds his hands into a prayer.

“C’mon, sweetie,” he begs. “The guy has NEVER been on a Valentine’s Day date before and his last girlfriend was a fucking bitch who dumped him because he was deaf. All she wanted was his massive dick…sorry.”

He apologized when he saw your reaction. You didn’t need to know that his childhood friend has a big dick! ….Though you are curious to know just how big. “He needs someone kind, considerate, and sweet. You fit the bill! Just give him a chance, please?”

Before you agreed, Worick told you all about Nico’s ex, happy to do so when you asked. Apparently, she was the daughter of a rich family that he and Worick were in charge of guarding for a couple of months. She and Nico grew closer, had a sexual relationship, and Nico caught feelings while she didn’t, claiming it was because she didn’t want to date someone deaf due to it being “too much work”. You felt bad for Nico, especially when hearing how much it hurt him.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you sighed at Worick’s pleading stare. He clapped his big, calloused hands and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Love you too, sweetie,” he chuckled. “I’ll fill you in on the details later this week.”

He instructed you to meet Nico at an underground jazz club that Nico particularly likes for its seclusion and because no one bothers him too much in there. You dressed in a simple cocktail dress, flats and a cardigan to keep warm in the chill. Combined with your styled hair and soft makeup, you think you look pretty. You hope this “Nico" person thinks so too. When you look down the street among the other stores and taverns, you see a man walking up the road and you immediately know that your date has arrived.

He is big. Huge! The man is nothing but bulky muscle hidden beneath his black tee, baggy jeans, and leather jacket standing at six-foot something. He towers over you as he gets closer, so much so that you have to look up at him to actually look at his face. You can see why he's so intimidating. Other than the height and build, Nico carries himself with a roughness and a confidence that is unshakeable and undeniable. It’s scary…yet also thrilling. Kinda sexy too.

Under the soft glow of the street lamps, you get a good look at his features: he has a soft tan to his skin, thick, soft-looking lips, and eyes a deep, dark chocolate that you can get lost in forever. Silver dog tags hang from his thick neck that has your blood going hot and slight scars and bruises that you can see on his knuckles. You wonder, briefly, how he got them. He’s very, very handsome. Realizing he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you clear your throat. “Uh….hi!” you greet, giving him a wave. He nods, barely cracking a smile. “You’re Nico?” you sign with your hands and verbally ask. “I’m Y/N, Worick’s friend.”

Nico shakes your hand and you notice how big, warm, and calloused his palm is. It makes your pussy tingle embarrassingly so. “The teacher, right?” he signs with those thick fingers. “He told me you teach little kids.” You nod, smiling proudly at your occupation. “Yes, pre-K,” you giggle. “They’re adorable, but a handful.”

There is an awkwardness between you, mostly because Nico is such a silent guy. He also keeps that stoic scowl on his face, so you don’t really know what he’s thinking. “So what do you do?” you curiously ask. “Worick never filled me in on that. He just said you do ‘business’ together as Handymen.” At this, Nico cracks a crooked smirk. “Something like that,” he signs. That intrigues you a bit.

“Do you wanna go inside?” you ask, nodding at the door. “We’ll freeze before we get a chance to get to know each other more.” You give a small laugh to which he only nods, making you feel like a fish out of water. He opens the door for you, surprising you, and nods you into the warm club.

“Thank you,” you whisper, catching his intoxicating scent of cologne and lavender soap as you walk in. A bit of cigarette smoke clings to his clothes too, but it doesn't bother you much. The club is small yet cozy and dimly lit for a more intimate feel. Many people are at the bar or on the dance floor near the small stage where a band plays, the sounds of piano and cello mingling in the air.

After getting your drinks from the bar (you get a cocktail while Nico picks a beer), you pick a table near the window and Nico pulls out a chair for you. You flush bashfully at his actions, not taking him for such a sweet guy. “Such a gentleman,” you laugh as he pushes you in and takes a seat across from you. “Worick didn’t tell me that. He said you’re very quiet though.” He shrugs his broad shoulders in his jacket. “Just don’t got much to say,” he signs.

You nod as you shed your coat, revealing your naked shoulders and dress to him. You try not to be intimidated by his unwavering gaze. “That’s okay,” you sign and say. “We can talk about whatever you want.” The corners of his mouth quirk upward. “You sign really well,” he praises you. You smile proudly and bashfully, glad to have impressed him. “My dad is deaf and taught me how to sign since I was young.”

His smirk turns more dry and almost forced as he signs to you: “So me being deaf doesn’t turn you off?” he jokes. You immediately remember his ex and feel your stomach fall. “Not at all,” you sweetly answer. “Though I don’t like beer drinkers.” You wrinkle your nose at Nico’s drink. He raises an eyebrow, confused at your distaste. “It makes kisses taste like beer.” You lean forward a bit, giving him a secretive, flirtatious smile. “I like my kisses sweet.”

Your eyes tick down to his lips and he notices. But he barely reacts. If anything, he looks disinterested and your heart sinks. “Was that too much?” you ask worriedly. Did you go too far? Are you misreading this?

Before you can babble an apology, he stops you. “You asked what I do for work with Worick,” he signs. You nod, your heart thumping madly in your chest. He takes a deep breath before signing again. “We do almost everything, but I do dirty work,” he tells you. “I used to be a mercenary, but…I’ve still got human blood on my hands.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. That explains the marks on his fists. ”Does that bother you?” he asks, apprehension in his brown eyes. Before you can respond, someone knocks into the table, nearly toppling it over.

You squeak, grabbing your drink before it can topple over while Nico straightens the table. “Oh, my God, are you alright?” you gasp, immediately helping the guy onto his feet. He turns to you, all crooked teeth and bloodshot eyes. “Now I am,” he drunkenly chortles at the sight of you. “Damn, darlin’, you’ve got a body on you! You wanna dance?” You immediately step back, warning bells going off in your head. “U-Uh, no, sorry. I’m here with–“

The man turns to Nico who has been staring daggers at the drunk the whole time. “Him?” he cackles. “That fuckin’ cockhead? You can get someone better than that, darlin’. Someone who can take care of this bo–“

The drunk cuts himself off with a whine of pain as Nico grips his hand so hard that he cracks the drunk’s knuckle bones. Unbeknownst to you, the drunk tried to touch your behind and Nico wasn’t having that. Doesn’t he know who he’s fucking with? You gape at your date as he steps between you and the drunk, a hulking mountain, and gets deep in the drunk’s grill.

And then he opens his mouth: “Back up,” he warns, his voice deeper and raspier than you pictured it though loud due to his hearing. “Unless you want your head in this table, I suggest you leave her alone. She’s with me.”

He then releases the drunk who scampers away, clutching his hand to his chest. Nico composes himself and turns to you, an apologetic look in his eyes. “Sorry,” he signs. You don’t say anything and he is so sure that he fucked this up. Now you see who he is. Now you see that he’s just a Twilight. A mercenary. A no good–

“Nico?” you softly ask. His hurtful thoughts take the back burner when you step to him, looking up at him with those precious, brown eyes. “Do you want to dance?” you ask, signing the words to him.

He blinks at you, so sure that you were scared of him. When in reality, you were just trying to push the nasty thoughts of him kissing you silly and fucking you up against the table with that big, sexy body and massive dick out of your mind. Him defending you but still being a complete, gentle giant to you is getting you going completely, but it’s still the first date. You want him to open up and maybe a slow dance can do that for you. “Not much of a dancer,” he signs, looking sheepish.

You smile and offer your hands to which he takes. “I’ll show you how,” you giggle, pulling him along onto the dance floor filled with slow-dancing pairs. A soft, slow tune with a seductive saxophone and piano plays as you stand eye to eye. You place one hand on his shoulder as you interact your fingers with his with the other. Slowly, you begin to sway to the music, beginning to melt within the music and each other.

And when lean your head onto his shoulder, finally feeling at peace, Nico comes to feel that this is where you belong: with him, in his arms.

KEISUKE BAJI (TOKYO REVENGERS)

*Disclaimer: Baji is aged up (over the age of 18) in this drabble!

“You’re the worst blind date I’ve ever had,” you very boldly and irritatingly tell the annoyingly sexy man sitting across from you.

The attractive man with the long, wavy black hair, sharp eyes the color of milk chocolate, and a sharp, canine smile looks across from you at the table littered with remnants of your Italian dinner. Baji is his name apparently, a close friend of Mikey’s and one of his gang members. You never understood that gang shit, but they never give you problems.

If anything, Mikey’s gang ‘Toman’, protects you and makes sure you go about your days without any bother. “I’m guessin’ you’ve been on many blind dates before me?” Baji suggests as he chews on his pasta. “Huh. That’s a shocker.”

You sharply squint at him, catching onto that shade. “Why is that so shocking?” you ask, digging your nails into the table with how irked you are. You can’t believe Mikey set you up with him. It’s been twenty-five minutes into the date and so far, each conversation was an argument and shot after shot. Your personalities clash horribly, not to mention every woman in the place has their eyes on him. And he knows it! Not to mention that he’s an extreme messy eater (which led your mind to other places), he is way too into himself, and he has no idea how to act in a classy setting like an Italian restaurant.

He’s a wild. He’s argumentative and hot-headed. He’s a rugged, tough-as-nails, roughneck dude…and he’s turning you on.

Baji leans back against his chair, widening his legs in a way that makes you want to scream. Why the fuck does he have to be so goddamn fine but such an asshole? Is God punishing you? “Well, bein’ the fact that you’re the very definition of ‘a stick in the mud’,” he explains, “and a tighter than a drum, I can hardly believe how any guy sat across from you at a table. At least you’re pretty.” He goes back to eating his pasta like he didn’t just insult you.

“Excuse me?” you hiss, feeling your blood boil. Thank God for your dress or else, you’re sure you’d boil over from the anger you feel. “And I can’t imagine how any self-respecting woman can sit with a lowlife, cocky, smart ass narc like you. And unlike me, your looks do nothing to take away any of that.” Baji’s thick, black eyebrows raise at the shot you took. “And you’re snarky,” he chuckles. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a thing for snarky girls.”

He uses his sinful tongue to lick a bit of sauce from his bottom lip. You catch a glint of metal on his tongue as he does and you realize that he has a tongue piercing. ‘Fuck,’ you think, clenching your thighs beneath the table and gripping the hem of your dress. You lean your hand against the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on. “I can’t believe I said yes to this shit,” you sigh into your hand. “Fuck the $50. I’m gonna have to tell Mikey that–“

“Mikey?” Baji cut in, pausing from eating. “Mikey put you up to this?” His brown eyes widen in shock and you feel a spark of joy at shutting him up. “Yes,” you proudly say, venom in your tone, “he did. And you know why? It’s because no other girl wants to date you. You’re unromantic, you’re a slob, you’re always looking for an argument, and you seem to push every single guy’s buttons in here.”

He stares at you for a moment, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and then he begins to laugh so loud that the others in the restaurant look at him. You hide behind your hand, embarrassed. “Oh, shit!” he cackles. “I swear, that motherfucker is desperate to find me somebody.” You nod, pushing your dinner to the side. “Agreed. Why he ever thought I would be a perfect match for you is beyond me.”

Baji looks at you now, an unreadable expression on his face as his smile fades. “Maybe it’s because you’re such a fuckin’ brat,” he replies though his tone is different. You stare at him in disbelief, scowling. Did he really just say that? Deadass?

Baji smirks at your reaction. “You heard me: B-R-A-T. You’re a brat and fortunately for you, baby girl, I’m just the guy to handle a chick like you.” He leans in toward you, folding his ringed knuckles beneath his chin. “Someone who doesn’t shut the fuck up or know her place.”

“Know her place?!” you snap, earning the attention of the restaurant. He barely reacts, though his smile grows and a strange twinkle appear in his eyes. “You know what? Fuck this and fuck you. Why you even have an ex-girlfriend is beyond me if this is how you talk to them.” You stand up in your pretty, body-hugging dress and grab your coat. “I’m leaving,” you huff, snatching the coat on. “Have a good Valentine’s Day, dickhead.”

Without another word or waiting for him to respond or even stop you, you leave the restaurant and step out into the cold February night. You barely get down the street before you hear your name being called. You turn, seeing Baji jogging towards you, those black locks flowing in the wind. “Y/N!” he calls in his deep ass voice. “Hold up, wait!” You don’t know why you stop, but you do, putting a hand on your hip. You glare at him and pout those plump lips when he finally stops in front of you. “You left your dessert.”

He presents a small brown box to you and opens it to reveal a small chocolate fudge cake with chocolate mousse on the inside and Godiva flakes coating the top. “I didn’t order any dessert,” you say in a tight voice. He smirks down at you, standing several heads taller than you. “I know; that’s why I ordered ya one. C’mon, you don’t like chocolate cake?” You look back down at the cake and close it before he hands it to you. “What, is this an apology?” you snort. “Sorry, man, but you’re gonna have to try much harder than–“

“You’re wonderin’ why I have an ex, right?” he interrupts you. You pause, confused, but he just smiles mischievously at you. “I have an ex, and many of them, because I’m an asshole, unfortunately. Force of habit.” He shrugs, but actually looks guilty for it. “But I’ve had many girlfriends because I know how to tame them.”

His smile is flirtier now, creating more of that sexual tension that you felt at dinner. You still stare at him, speechless, and he figures that you’re clueless about what he means. “I put it down,” he explains. "Give good dick. Knock their boots. Am I makin’ any sense here?” You roll your eyes, ignoring the thoughts running in your head of just how good he is in the bedroom. “I know what you mean,” you snap. “So why the fuck are you tellin’ me this?”

Baji smiles at you, his canines glowing at you as if they are illuminated by a light within them. They thrill you; bring a ferocious and needy part out of you that you didn’t know was even there. He takes a step toward you, getting closer, until you can reach up and kiss him if you want to. “Because I know you’re attracted to me,” he murmurs matter-o-factly. “What, you think I can’t see it? The way you squeezed your thighs tight together at the table. The way you kept starin’ dead at my hands. The way you’d get so lost in thought, as if daydreaming about somethin’ else way more exciting.”

You flush embarrassingly, more at your behavior than the fact that Baji noticed it. You can’t help how attracted you are to him. But Baji doesn’t want you to be embarrassed or ashamed. He wants you to want him the same he wants you. “Lucky for you, mama,” he purrs, the pet name making your pussy jump, especially with his voice, "I’m just as whipped for you, especially in that dress.” His fingers lightly glide down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m sorry about tonight, but I can show how sorry I am in other ways if you want me to.”

You can tell he genuinely means it and isn’t just trying to get in your pants, but even so, you still scowl up at him, your jaw set and eyes narrow. “And why do you think I’ll say yes?” you question. He just chuckles, still flashing you that sharp, sexy smile. “Because you know I’m the only one who can handle that bratty ass of yours.”

He then turns and waves a hand. You don’t know what for until a taxi suddenly glides over to the curb and stops. Baji walks to the backdoor and opens it before looking back at you expectantly, his eyes molten with lust. “Now get in the fuckin’ car, Y/N.” You know you shouldn’t get in the car and go anywhere with him, but you can’t deny how much he makes your pussy throb. So against your better judgement, you crawl into the backseat of the cab and tell the driver your address.

Hours later after being stripped out of your dress, shown extensive foreplay, and having your pussy eaten like Baji hasn’t had anything to eat in decades, you find yourself being fucked against the wall with your arms and legs wrapped tight around the long-haired, tattooed man who holds you against him as he pummels his thick, hard cock into your tight, wet pussy again and again. The bedroom is filled with the sound of your mixed moans and skin slapping against skin as he pistons his hips into you, making you see stars.

It doesn’t take long for your pussy to start quivering around his cock, squelching and dripping the more he fucks it. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life and you’re able to hold back anymore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Baji!” you practically scream. “Can’t…can’t take it! I’m gonna cum!”

Baji shakes his head, gripping your hair with one hand while he hikes you up onto his waist with the other, showing you how lightweight you are to him. “Uh-uh, bratty girl,” he huffs. “Not yet, mama. I need to feel more of this pretty pussy flutterin’ around me.” He thrusts harder, faster, drawing whines and sobs out of you. You begin to claw at his back where a large tattoo dedicated to Toman is inked into his back muscles. “You cum when I say, understand?” he growls into your ear.

You weakly nod, willing to do anything he says if that means you can cum. “Now shut the fuck up, and take this dick.” You do so, stopping your protests as he fucks you stupid until you cream all over his cock while he fills you up to the brim…but of course, you only do it when he says so. You find that you love doing what he tells you to.

When everything is said and done, you both crumble to your bedroom floor and Baji pecks your cheek. “Best blind date ever, right?” he chuckles.

BENIMARU SHINON (FIRE FORCE)

*Note: Reader is Goth!

“God, kill me,” you sigh, standing in front of the theater doors. “Why did I agree to do this? He could be a serial killer or something!”

You contemplate leaving, but you already promised your best friend that you’d go through with this stupid blind date on this stupid ass holiday. “Please just try and go along with it for tonight, Y/N!” she practically begged. “I promise he’s a nice guy! And I already told him you agreed! Just give it a chance and I promise you that I’ll never bother you about dating again.”

You groaned, sitting across from her at a bar. “Fuck,” you sighed. “Fine. Can I least pick the movie?” Your friend eagerly nodded, so you purposely picked a romance/horror movie marathon showing that the theatre does every year for Valentine’s Day. The kind with blood n guts, gothic vampires, and slashers. Surprisingly, the guy still agreed to come much to your dismay and you had no choice but to come out.

You know that your friend did this as a way to get you to start dating. You swear she thinks that one of these days that you’ll hang yourself from the shower rod with how lonely you are…and this has zero to do with you being goth. Though you love the color black, but you’re not depressed. You love dark makeup and rock music, but that’s what you love. You’ve always adored gothic fashion and the aesthetic, so that’s what you live.

However, some people think it’s weird. Though Tokyo is full of eccentric and different type of fashion, goth isn’t particularly “popular” in your Black family or side of the city. And it certainly isn’t popular with the guys. You don’t care. You love yourself and you’re not about to change for anyone. So you dress in your finest black attire with a mini leather skirt, thigh-high stockings, and boots that make you feel powerful and sexy. Your makeup is dark, your mascara is sharp, your nails are as long and sharp as claws, and chains drip from your leather jacket.

You wonder what your date will be like. Apparently, he’s a well-regarded and respected officer in the Special Fire Force, among the strongest there is. But you don’t recognize him when he comes up the road from his side of the city. He is tall and has a lean build that is hidden behind a black sweater and baggy jeans. His locks of black hair hang in his face, but not enough to hide his different set of eyes: his right pupil is a red circle with one black dot in the middle while his iris is black; his left is red with a white X in the middle, reminding you of a game of tic, tac, toe.

“Hey,” he greets easily. “You waitin’ for someone?” You scowl at him, crossing your ams over you chest. “Why are you asking?” you ask sharply. The stranger raises his big hands in defense, taking a step back. “I’m not trying you, I promise. I’m just wondering if you’re this Y/N that’s supposed to be waiting here for me.”

You squint at him, cocking your head to the side to see him at a different angle. “Benimaru?” you question. “Huh. You don’t look how I thought at all.” He is handsome but not enough to knock you off your game. He quirks a small smirk and you have a feeling that this dude don’t smile often. “I hope that’s a good thing,” he wryly chuckles. “For the record, you’re not bad on the eyes either…if that’s what you meant.”

You don’t acknowledge his compliment or react even though your stomach flips. You’re not used to anyone complimenting you on the account of your black lipstick and mascara. “So should we go in or stay out here to freeze to death?” you sarcastically ask. You huff and turn on your heel before Benimaru can even answer or follow you.

He easily beats you to the door on his long legs and opens it for you, towering over you as he does. “Is sarcasm just natural for you?” he asks, dry humor in his voice as you step into the theater. You feel a pang of guilt at your behavior. It’s not his fault your friend orchestrated this.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I’ll admit, I’m not too hype about being here. Dating isn’t really my thing, but my friend insisted I come on this stupid blind date…no offense.” Benimaru barely blinks at you walk to the ticket counter. “None taken. My friend, Konro, swore I needed a Valentine’s Day date when the whole holiday isn’t even a holiday. It’s pure BS.”

“Ugh, agreed,” you scoff, rolling your pretty, brown eyes ringed in mascara “It’s just a way for companies to continue to capitalize off of hopeless romantics and couples. Not to mention all of that pink.”

Benimaru nearly misses that, too busy thinking about how pretty your eyes are. “I’m takin’ you don’t like pink?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Not that your clothes are a dead giveaway or anything.” His interestingly alluring eyes tick up and down your outfit, making you feel hot under all of the leather. “I just like black,” you laugh. “But don’t get me wrong; I wear other colors sometimes, but only on a minuscule level.”

“Your friend said you were a gothic chick,” he chuckles, giving you a mischievous smirk. You send it right back as you take out the two tickets your friend sent you for the movie. “As gothic as they come,” you retort. Benimaru just hums in response, particularly liking you in that mini skirt and the way it swishes around your thighs.

After buying the tickets, you two wander into the small waiting area where a bar, a cafe, and an arcade occupy the space. “So the movie starts in about fifteen minutes. Should we head in now?” Benimaru doesn’t answer at first, too busy staring at the arcade games. “Nah,” he replies, nodding at the flashing, noisy games. “We can kill some time in here.” He begins to walk over, expecting you to follow. “Your friend also said you’re shit at racing games,” he says with a smirk shot your way.

“Not true!” you scoff, crossing your arms. He shrugs pausing in the threshold of the arcade to wait for you. You finally give in, taking off your jacket to reveal your black crop top. “Fine, but only if we got time for the shooting games too. I wanna kill some zombies.” Benimaru nods, secretly laughing to himself as you follow him into the arcade.

You spend way more than fifteen minutes in that bitch, playing all the games you can. Benimaru is good at almost everything, playing each game with skill and precision. He lets you win most of the time, just liking to see you smile and laugh in pride when you win a racing game or beat him at ping pong. During the zombie game, you get overrun by the undead while holding your plastic machine gun and you feel him lightly touch your elbow to point the gun straight. His touch sends shivers all over you. You win the first half until you run out of time and Benimaru smirks at you. “I totally helped you with that,” he sniggers.

You also play basketball, shooting them repeatedly through hoops. He always gets the farthest hoop and the highest points, winning every round. “You only won ‘cause you’re taller,” you huff, bumping your hip with his as you walk by. It gives him the perfect opportunity to watch your ass sway in that damn skirt, making him hard as a rock for you.

As walk to get something to drink, you stop at one game in particular: the crane game. It holds dozens of little plushies that you’re obsessed with, including the little black plague doctor with its big eyes and fluffy beak. Benimaru smirks at you staring at the game, walking up beside you. “I saw you looking at this thing the whole time,” he says. "You couldn't have been any less discreet.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, still staring at the plushie. He notices and pulls out his last arcade coin. “What, you want it?” You quickly shake your head, turning to leave. “We’re gonna miss the movie anyways, so–“

“Fuck it,” he carelessly interrupts, shocking you. “You obviously want that penguin, so I’ll get it for you.”

You roll your eyes, sighing. “It’s not even a penguin; it’s a plague doctor Squishable. It ain’t a big deal for me to have it, Benimaru.” But your date just glares at you as he bends down to put the coin in the slot. “And it ain’t a big deal for me to get it for you,” he argues. “If we miss the movie, we’ll just go for food.”

You are floored by his stubbornness and refusal to give up until he’s made you happy. How can that be? You only just met and yet here he is, using his last coin to try to get you a stupid plushie! You watch with bated breath as he plays the game, moving the crane slowly as he fixes his eyes on the plushie. Once he’s moved the crane right over the plushie, he hits a button, causing the crane to sink down into the sea of stuffed animals. The crane’s hooks latch onto the peak of the plushie and, slowly, he moves it over to the opening in the corner to release it.

The crane plays music and lights up in victory as the plushie rolls down the chute into Benimaru’s hand. He turns to you, an unreadable look on his face. “Here,” he says passively. “I figured goth girls didn’t like cute shit like this…but he is kinda creepy.”

You take the plushie, just staring at it for a moment. All of the sudden, you feel weird. You feel tingly and butterflies flutter around in your stomach. That never happens, but it’s happening for this guy! “Thanks,” you softly, and very shyly, say. Benimaru shrugs like it isn’t anything to him, but it is to you. “Y’know, the movie marathon is gonna be showing another night too…” You trail off, looking down at your shoes to avoid seeing his eyes.

“So you want another night with me?” he asks. Quickly, you turn on your heel and stomp out of the arcade, leaving him utterly confused. “What?” he calls after you, sounding genuinely baffled. “It was just a question!”

A second night with him does happen two weeks later and you do see the midnight marathon, but neither of you pay any attention to the first move that plays. You’re too busy bouncing on your date’s thick, veiny cock in the darkness of the theater to watch the film, biting back your moans despite the seats being empty. Benimaru softly grunts and moans into your ear as your walls flex around him, his eyes transfixed on the way your ass jiggles as he lifts up your skirt.

“Fuck, Beni!” you moan. “Y-You’re s-so fuckin’ big!” You grip his thighs with your long nails as his dick stretches you out in the best way, a delicious ache coming in your calves with the effort it takes to bounce on him. Benimaru stands up and bends you over the seat in front of you, beginning to fuck you from behind. He is fast and nails that single spot every time that makes you have to cover your mouth because you’re so loud.

“Shh, shh, baby,” he coos into your ear as he continues to pound into you from behind. “You don’t want security comin’ to find us, do you? Or maybe you do, you little slut, fuckin’ your date in the movie theatre.” He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls, much to your enjoyment of being slutted out in the dark. Anyone could walk in and see you fucking right now. It’s so naughty. So sexy.

The thrill of it must be getting to Benimaru too because he speeds up his thrusts, his balls slapping against your clit as his hand smacks against your ass, gripping it tight. “Shit, baby, you’re gonna make cum!” he groans, tossing his head back at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around him. “Cum with me! Make that pretty fuckin’ pussy cum around my cock!”

You quickly begin to rub you swollen clit in time with his thrusts and soon enough, you’re cumming all over his cock. “Fuck!” you scream into your hand as your orgasm tears through you. Benimaru cums too, filling you up with a long groan that he bites back as best as he can among the movie playing. He lets you come down from cloud nine before pulling out, letting his cum leak down your thighs. He turns you around, pumping his cock soaked in your juices. “Not yet,” he growls. “Put it back in your mouth and taste yourself.”

You get on your knees, panties at your ankles and leather skirt hiked up. Benimaru wastes no time thrusting into your mouth, using it as his very own fucktoy, as he watches your brown eyes ringed in mascara stare up at him eagerly. When he pulls away to cum again, your black lipstick stains his cock, marking him as yours. “Fuck!” he gasps as he cums all over your pretty face, ruining your eye makeup. It is now but black smears down your cheeks as his nut drips all over your face and cheeks.

“Poor baby,” he chuckles. “Your mascara’s runnin’. I bet you worked so hard on it.” He takes a napkin from your movie snacks and dabs away the cum. “So cute,” he sighs, marveling at how utterly adorable you look. You giggle, feeling deliriously good and cute, just as he says.

Yeah. A third date is most definitely in the future for you now.

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